“That means a lot. I was worried how this conversation would play out. I should have known that Tate Masters wouldn’t let me down. Later, babe.” The woman knows how to sink her talons into me, even if it is on the beating thing in my chest. The one who says, ‘play it cool, keep things nice and easy, that’s what she wants and so do I’. But this right here, it means something big.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
emily
Here I am, caving like the woman I swore I would never, ever be. This person who is inside of me right now, dictating my every move, it’s like I’m a completely different person, and I’m totally blaming it on Kelsey. The second Tate’s name was mentioned along with the fact he’s in Nashville, wanting me to come visit since he was stuck there for the time being. Well, she practically pushed me out of our makeshift office in the warehouse, telling me to get the hell out of town.
I was pretty sure it had a lot to do with the raging bitch I’ve been. Who knew that renovating would bring the worst out of both of us? Because while I was a raging bitch, Kels wasn’t an angel. The sister who doesn’t usually lose her cool became a snapping turtle when I had to be the bearer of bad news. The last time, we were just getting started, not losing revenue while the boutique was closed. You can’t miss what you don’t have. It’s had both of us in a tizzy. Nat was ready to walk out. Thankfully, Deke waded in, picked up Kelsey to grab a drink, and I went home and poured myself my own, sat down, and promised myself I’d hire every single thing out the next time, then book us all a vacation.
It chapped my ass that Tate’s voice calmed my tits, even now admitting it makes me annoyed with myself. Especially after the whole no using condoms talk; it took a few days, but I got my test. My period finally went away, and now it’s Friday and I’m currently walking through the airport, only bringing a carry-on suitcase as well as a bag.
I texted Tate when I landed, letting him know I’d meet him outside of the airport, not wanting him to get stuck paying for parking since it’ll be faster if I just walk to him. So, that’s what I do. a small rolling suitcase along with a bag is probably a little overkill. Three days, that’s how long I’ll be here with Tate. Am I nervous? Yes. Will it be worth it? God, I hope so. I’ll practically be living with him for my short stay. This could totally make or break this non-relationship thing we’ve got going on.
“Em, babe.” My name is called. I’d know that voice anywhere, plus there’s only one person who puts those two names together, and that’s Tate. The only problem is that voice, it’s coming from the complete opposite direction. I spin around, bumping into people. “Excuse me, sorry, excuse me,” I say until I make it out of the throng of people clearly heading for the automated glass doors. Some people are nice about me making a break for it, some not so much. It takes some quick maneuvering and cat-like reflexes to move me and my rolling suitcase along without it getting lost in the fray.
“Em, Jesus, babe.” Tate’s voice is low yet still grumbling. I’m unsure why he’s annoyed when I was doing just fine walking with the herd of people until he called my name.
“What, why are you here?” He doesn’t respond. Instead, his lip twitches, and I continue on, “I thought we were meeting out front.” The words barely leave me before his hand goes to my lower back, pressing on it until I get the memo and get reacquainted with Tate.
“Deke texted and told me you didn’t do directions well. You were heading to the south side of the building when I’m on the north side. It’s not a big deal to pay ten dollars to park if it means you aren’t lost and left wandering.” Damn, I mean, he’s not wrong, but my brother-in-law is a blabbermouth.
“Oh.” It takes me a second to recover. That could be because Tate’s presence always seems to stop me in my tracks. Today is no different except instead of the jeans and cotton shirts he usually favors, he’s in a black long-sleeved button-down shirt, black slacks, and black shoes. You’d have thought he was stepping out of a photo shoot or taking over billion-dollar companies. Tate has the first two buttons undone, showing off his tanned skin, not too low to make it look like a mafia-type style from the eighties. Though, something tells me he could even pull that look off. The man is sex on a stick.