Page 58 of Tell Me No Lies

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Page 58 of Tell Me No Lies

I glance behind me as Anna comes in with her daughters. I watch to make sure they aren't traumatized by what they're seeing, but their expressions are open and curious. The smallest one points a little finger at the stretched wings of an owl posed to look like it’s flying above the enormous fireplace.

Alma continues chatting and gesturing, leading us straight to the long table at the back of the room. The space is so large, I'm halfway across it before I finally smell the savory scent of food. My stomach growls like it’s going to eat itself if I don't put something in it soon and I start to salivate as I take a seat.

Tate settles into the chair beside me, hooking an arm over the back of my seat as he leans in, breath warm against my ear. “How are you feeling, Sugar?”

“Hungry.” I lean closer to him, relaxing a little as the heat of his body sinks into mine. I know I've been with him for nearly four days straight, but there was an entire console between us, and three strangers in the seat behind us—two of them way too young for my colorful language—so we didn't do much talking or touching on the drive, and I miss him.

It's weird because I've never missed a man. Never liked one enough to miss him. But here I am. Missing a man because being in the same car with him wasn’t close enough. I’m an embarrassment to myself. And the worst part is, I don’t give a shit. Especially not now that he’s right next to me, pulling my chair closer like he missed me too.

Tate’s arm stays around me as the sister’s stuff us full of roasted caribou and some of the best mashed potatoes I've ever tasted. His arm stays around me as Alma leads us to the room we’ll be staying in overnight, letting us know they’ll be serving us breakfast in the morning before we head out.

It's not until we’re closed into our rustic-chic bedroom that Tate’s arm leaves my shoulders. But even then, it's only so his hands can start to peel away my clothes.

I lift both arms over my head as he lifts away the hoodie, but the second it clears my face, I give him as much of a scowl as I can manage. “I can undress myself.”

“I'm pretty sure you've done enough over the past few days. The least I can do is get you scrubbed and tucked into bed.”

I laugh as he tugs my shirt up and off. “I'm not the only one who put in a shit ton of effort.” I shiver a little as my shirt hits the floor and Tate moves me into the beautifully appointed bathroom, leaving me to stand on the sealed stone floor as he starts the shower. “If I remember correctly, you wouldn't let me drive more than a few hours the whole way here.” I lift my brows as he turns back to me. “That means I actually got a little sleep, but you've been awake for over two days straight.” I step toward him, reaching for the waistband of his jeans. “By your logic, I get to make sure you're scrubbed and tucked in too.”

“I'm fine.” He sweeps my hands away before working the fly of my jeans open.

He’s so focused on the task, he doesn't notice I'm genuinely glaring at him now. I lock my legs together, ensuring he won't be able to get anything more off my body, and wait.

Tate tugs a few times at the jeans before realizing what's happening. He lifts his eyes to mine. “Seriously?”

I scoff. “Seriously, me?” I poke him in the middle of his chest. “Seriously, you.” I cross one leg over the other, because simply clenching is starting to get exhausting. “Do you know I have never touched your dick? Not with my hand. Not with my mouth. The only thing I've grabbed it with is my vagina, and even that hasn’t gotten a hold of it in forever.” I stare him down. “So unless you're going to let me touch you the same way you touch me, you can get out and I’ll shower myself.”

Tate’s head bobs back like I hit him. “I just want to take care of you, Piper.” He sounds genuinely confused over why I'm not thrilled to lay my ass back and be a doted-on pillow princess.

I get some people might like that, but I've seen what happens in an unbalanced relationship. When one person makes the other their entire reason for existing. I’ve spent my entire adult life making sure I never ended up like that, but never once did I guess I might be on the other side of the equation.

“And you can take care of me.” I gentle my tone because there's a panic in his eyes that makes my chest tight. “I like when you take care of me.” I reach out, resting one hand over his sternum. “But I want to take care of you too. I won't be in a one-sided relationship, Tate. Not ever.”

His breathing speeds up as he rakes one hand through his hair. “It's not about being one-sided. It's about me making sure you know how much I appreciate you. That you're enough for me.”

I swallow hard, my throat aching at how much fear I see in his face. I understand it.

Hell, I've had it.

But somewhere along the way, I accidentally stepped past it, and I'm pretty sure it's because of the man in front of me. Because he fights for me. He changes his life to make room for me. He thinks of me. Pays attention to what I say. How I feel.

And if he thinks for one fucking second I don’t plan to give just as good as I get, then he hasn’t been watching as closely as I thought.

23

SOME OFFERS ARE MADE TO BE REFUSED

TATE

“IF YOU REALLY appreciate me, then you want me to be happy, right?”

Piper’s trying to trick me. She’s not being very sneaky about it, but that’s not really her style. “I know where you’re going with this, Sugar, and your argument isn’t going to fly.”

I move closer, knowing how easy it is to distract her. It’s one of my favorite things about her. “I think you’re just tired and a little grumpy and you’ll feel so much better if you let me wash your hair and paint your toenails and eat that sweet pussy of yours until you fall asleep.”

Her skin flushes, but she doesn’t melt the way she normally would at the suggestion. “If I fall asleep while you’re doing that, you’re doing it wrong.” She lifts her chin. “What if we make a deal instead?”

I shake my head. “No dice. This isn’t something you can negotiate.”




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