“You know why it’s me.”
Since we’ve had this conversation twice already this month, and since she does know why I have to go, she doesn’t argue with me. Instead, she exhales a long, frustrated breath and grumbles, “King’s fucking with me.”
My lip twitches. “You gonna tell him that the next time you see him?” I don’t doubt it; these two have had some stand-up arguments over the last decade thanks to Tatum’s refusal to take what he dishes out if she doesn’t agree with it.
She arches her brows at my amusement. “You know I will. I’ll also send him the bill for the new vibrator I’ll be buying.”
I move back up her body and kiss her, long and deep, before saying, “You already own four vibrators.”
Her brows arch higher, challenging me to argue with whatever she’s about to say. “And soon, I’ll own five.”
I want to continue arguing with her just to get her really worked up, but our conversation is interrupted by a text that comes in for her from my niece. Tatum has six different text tones set on her phone to differentiate between me, Renee, Dustin, Marilyn, Monroe and everyone else. This particular tone is Renee’s.
When she leans across to reach for her phone, I say, “Leave it.”
“Renee never calls this early. It must be important.”
She’s right, so I don’t argue even though the last thing I want is for anyone to cut in on my time with her.
A moment later, she frowns as she reads the text.
“What is it?” I ask.
She shows me the message. “Something is very wrong.”
I read the text.
Renee
Tell me you’re awake. I’m in the middle of something and need you.
Now, it’s my turn to frown. Tatum’s right again. Out of all my family members, Renee is the least likely to send a message like that. She’s the calm, logical, ordered one. The word she uses to describe herself istidy. A tidy mind, a tidy home, a tidy person. Not once in her twenty-seven years has she used the words “I’m in the middle of something and need you.”
I jab at Tatum’s phone to call Renee, at which point Tatum pulls the phone out of my hand.
“No,” she says to me while putting the phone to her ear. “You’re not handling this.” At my furrowed brow, she elaborates, “Something tells me a degree of softness is going to be required for this, and while you’re capable of many things, softness isn’t one of those things.”
“I give you soft all the fucking time.”
“You tone yourself down for me, which is a hell of a long way from what I think Renee might need today. I—” She stops talking abruptly when Renee answers the call.
I can’t make out what my niece says because she’s talking faster than I’ve ever heard her talk and sounds hysterical. Tatum has a short conversation with her trying to calm her down. They don’t get into what’s going on with Renee because Tatum isn’t successful in quieting her panic. When she tells Renee she’s coming over, Renee turns silent immediately and then I hear clearly her ragged “Thank you.”
“Fuck,” Tatum says to me, eyes wide while she sits in the bed for a minute after the call. “I swear I will draw blood if someone has fucked with her.”
My chest tightens at the thought. “You and me both,” I say darkly.
My wife sits quietly for another few seconds staring at me. She knows the lengths I will go to if anyone hurts any family member of mine.
She breathes out a long breath before sitting forward up onto her knees, curling her hand around my neck, and pressing her lips to mine for one last kiss before saying, “Tell me you’re not working today.”
After a decade with her, I can read Tatum’s mind. “If you’re planning on coming home to fuck me after you’ve seen Renee, then I’m not working today.”
“That was the right answer. And if King should call and ask you to do anything for him, I hope you know the right answer would beno.”
I watch her dress in her favoured jeans and black tank top, tracking her ass every step of the way as she moves towards the bedroom door to leave. “Vegas.”
She slows and turns back to me, waiting for whatever I’m about to say. Ten years with me and she has a fair idea of what that will be. The heat in her eyes gives that away.
