Tackle (K19 Security Solutions) Read online

  “But you won’t?”

  The playfulness was gone from her expression. “I don’t want you to be with me just because of the baby.”

  I caressed her cheek with the tip of one finger. “I’m sorry I made you think that was the case.”

  “Tackle, I…um…”

  “Whatever you’re struggling to say, just say it.”

  “I want this baby.”

  I had no idea what point she was trying to make, since I wouldn’t have expected anything else.

  “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to make any commitments right now.”

  Rather than respond, I scooted down the bed. I put my hands on either side of her belly, leaned forward, and kissed the slight protrusion. “Hey, little peanut, put in a good word with your mom for me, okay?”

  Sloane rested her hand on one of mine.

  I stayed where I was but looked up at her. “I want to be a part of both your lives. A big, permanent part. I understand, though, why you’d question my level of commitment or even why you think I’m only here because of this little one.” I splayed the fingers of my hand. “But it’s more than that, Sloane.”

  She nodded, but her look remained skeptical. “There’s something I need to ask you.”

  “Anything.”

  Sloane smirked. “I can ask, right? That doesn’t mean you can answer.”

  “Your security clearance is probably higher than mine.”

  “About that. I’ve requested to be moved to a different division.”

  I felt my shoulders tense. “Where?”

  “Still here. And by here, I mean working from home.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Cyber. Data analysis primarily. It isn’t much different than what I do now, except I won’t have any fieldwork.”

  “I like the sound of that.” I kissed her belly again. “She’s already such a good mom to you.”

  “What about you, Tackle?”

  “I have a job with my dad. Eventually, the business will be mine.” She didn’t look happy. “What?”

  “And be miserable.” She rolled away and sat up. “I’m pregnant, so you not only give up your bachelor lifestyle, but you work a job you never intended to be a career. Don’t do this, Tackle.” Sloane grabbed a robe and walked out of the room. I followed—without a robe.

  “You can switch careers, but I can’t?”

  “I’m not switching careers; I’m changing divisions.” Her eyes trailed down my naked body, immediately bringing my cock back to full attention. I had to focus on our conversation, though, not on how much I desperately wanted her.

  “And yet, if I said I was going to take a permanent job with K19, you’d kick me to the curb even faster.” I sounded irritated because I was.

  “Is that what you want to do?”

  “Does any of this really need to be decided tonight?”

  “You’re the one who wanted to talk.”

  My eyes scrunched. “I did?”

  “You didn’t want to do anything else.”

  “There’s a difference between not wanting to and trying to do the right thing.”

  “Stop trying to do the right thing, Tackle.”

  “What about the baby?”

  Sloane walked over to the sofa’s end table and opened the drawer. She pulled out a book and flipped to a page that had been dog-eared. “According to this, it’s perfectly okay to have sex while pregnant.” She thrust it at me, but I didn’t take it.

  “I trust your word,” I said with a wink.

  “Is it because you don’t find me attractive anymore?”

  “I’m not sure what would make you say that, but”—I made a sweeping motion across the lower half of my body—“clearly, that is not the case.” Her brow was furrowed, and I swear her lower lip was protruding. I held out my hand and, when she took it, led her back to the bedroom.

  I moved the covers for the second time and motioned for her to lie down.

  “I don’t want to do anything to hurt you or the baby. That was the only reason I hesitated.”

  I waited for her to say something, but all she did was turn her back to me.

  “Sloane? What’s going on?”

  “What happened to ‘When we’re together like this, naked, whatever I tell you to do, you do’?”

  “Ah, I see.” I put my arm around her waist and pulled her body flush with mine. “Did you like that, Sloane?”

  She nodded.

  “I need to hear the words.” I rubbed the cheeks of her bare bottom in warning.

  “I liked it.”

  “Liked what?”

  “When you told me what to do.”

  I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of her. Was there a more perfect woman for me? I doubted one could possibly exist.

  “Roll over and face me, Sloane.” When she did without hesitation, my already steel-hard cock throbbed with desire. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  “Have you?”

  She nodded.

  “You kept me away for so long.”

  Her eyes studied mine.

  “Don’t ever do that again.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Promise me.”

  When she remained silent, I swatted her bottom.

  “Promise me, Sloane.”

  Her eyes filled with tears, but not from my hand on her flesh; I’d barely tapped her.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking, peanut.”

  “I can’t make that promise,” she whispered.

  “Why not?”

  She shook her head.

  “Because you don’t trust me.”

  She didn’t need to answer; I hadn’t phrased it as a question.

  “Let’s sleep.”

  “You’re angry.”

  “Not at all. You were honest with me, and that is another rule I insisted on between us.”

  “But you don’t want to have sex?”

  “There are so many things we need to talk through, figure out, decide about. I don’t want to confuse the issues with sex. That’s different than not wanting to.”

  23

  Sloane

  While I’d never admit it now, I knew Tackle was right. We’d gone from pseudo-friends to lovers with little communication between us. Perhaps if we’d talked more things through, I wouldn’t have spent the last three months in turmoil over what to do about the baby. Instead of having my brother with me for my doctor’s appointments, the father could have been there. The idea that I’d denied him that opportunity made me sad.

  The first time I heard the baby’s heartbeat, I cried. When I saw his or her shape on the screen as the tech pressed the cold, hard ultrasound wand against my abdomen, I cried too. In fact, I’d cried more in the last three months than I had at any other time of my life, except for maybe when I was an infant.

  Knox had comforted me, of course, but even then, I regretted Tackle not being with me.

  I cupped his cheek like he’d done so many times with me. “I’m sorry.”

  “What for?”

  “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

  Tackle laughed and pulled me closer to him, if that was possible. If only we could be like this all the time, it would be heaven for me. I’d loved him for so long, never believing there was a chance he’d ever love me.

  I still doubted it was possible. I even questioned whether he really, truly wanted our baby. How did someone go from “no way in hell do I want one at this point in my life” to “promise me you’ll never keep me away” in the span of a couple of hours?

  Based on my own experience, he’d change his mind daily, if not more often, about how he felt about being a parent.

  There were times I thought it was the greatest blessing I could’ve been given. Others, I wondered what in the world I thought I was doing. Now that Tackle knew, maybe I could tell my mom like he’d told his. Being able to talk to her, and to my dad, about it, would be such a relief. Knox, ho
wever, was an entirely different matter.

  He’d been so patient with me, putting me first above all else, being there whenever I needed him. How could he not feel betrayed by the fact that I hadn’t told him the father was his own best friend?

  “You’re not sleeping,” he murmured.

  “Neither are you.”

  “There’s an appendage between my legs that is in complete disagreement about sleep being necessary.”

  “There’s something between my legs that agrees with your appendage.”

  “If we make them both happy, maybe they’ll let us sleep.”

  I wanted him so much that if I were standing, I’d hurl my body at his.

  When I felt Tackle’s fingers between my legs, all thought stopped. I only allowed myself to feel. I’d craved this.

  “Sloane?” he whispered.

  I looked into his eyes.

  “I don’t want to use a condom, but I have to know you’re okay with that.”

  “I trust you, Tackle.”

  When I felt his skin against mine as his hardness went deeper and deeper into me, I lost track of everything but pleasure. I writhed, I groaned, I pleaded, and I orgasmed. Again and again throughout the night.

  “This is a dream come true,” said Tackle when he woke and my hand was on his penis.

  “I thought maybe I’d worn you out.”

  “If I had more energy, you’d get a swat for saying that.”

  “How did you know you, ya know, liked that?”

  “Swatting your perfect ass?” He gave me two slaps to prove his point, I suppose.

  “Ouch and yes.”

  “Instinct. The same way you know it excites you when I put my hands on your breasts or my fingers in your hot, wet pussy. Speaking of which…” He stroked through my folds and pushed inside me.

  “Did the other, uh, other people you’ve been with, like it too?”

  “Are you sure you want to talk about this?”

  “I absolutely don’t, but it’ll drive me crazy until we do.”

  “Some liked it. Some didn’t.”

  “I see.”

  “I warned you.” He squeezed one of my cheeks and pressed his fingers deeper. “Now, you tell me, do you like it, Sloane?”

  “You know I do,” I groaned when he curled his fingers and touched that elusive spot I hadn’t believed existed.

  “Good thing you didn’t try to lie.”

  “Oh my God,” I cried when he brought his mouth to my pussy and licked me.

  We spent another hour in bed, and when Tackle got up, I knew he’d be leaving soon. I checked my phone for a message from my brother, but there weren’t any. Who knew when he might be back in Boston? We couldn’t risk him driving by and seeing Tackle’s car in the driveway.

  “We need to tell him,” said Tackle after he’d gotten dressed. “I don’t want to hide.”

  “I don’t either.” I hadn’t been hiding from Knox, at least not completely. It was Tackle and everyone else that I’d kept as far away from as possible, and it was exhausting.

  “Do you think I should tell my parents first or my brother?”

  He sat back down on the bed. “I think we should tell them.”

  “You told your mom on your own.”

  “Only because I was worried I’d fucked things up with you forever.” He leaned over and kissed me. “I’ll call you in a couple of hours, and we’ll figure out our day.”

  Figure out our day? What did that mean?

  Tackle laughed. “You are so transparent.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I totally just freaked you out.” I could hear him laughing all the way out the front door.

  He hadn’t been gone more than twenty minutes when my cell phone rang with a call from my brother.

  “Hey, peanut,” he said when I answered.

  “Hi. Where are you?”

  “Still in New York City.”

  “Does that mean it went well with Tara?”

  “I told her I loved her.”

  “And?”

  “She said it back.”

  I wiped at the tears already running down my cheeks. “Oh, Knox. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Listen, Sloane, I want to stay down here a couple more days.”

  “Do it.”

  “Are you going to be okay on your own?”

  “I will be. I promise.”

  “Will you call me if you’re the least bit uncomfortable?”

  I laughed. “And what? You’ll come rub my feet?”

  “If that’s what you need.”

  “Tell you what, rub Tara’s feet instead.”

  “I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

  I heard another voice in the background. “You better go. Just keep me posted on when you think you’ll be coming back.”

  “I need to check in with work and see if I can get Monday off.”

  I laughed. “Do you really think Tackle would make you come back?”

  “You know something I don’t, peanut? Did Tackle get a promotion in the last twenty-four hours? The last I checked, his dad still ran the company.”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it, Knox.”

  “Right. Okay, gotta go. Again, if you need me, I’m a little over an hour away.”

  Less than an hour later, Tackle showed back up at my place.

  “Did you talk to my brother?” I asked when I opened the door.

  He answered by walking over the threshold and wrapping me up in his arms. “He won’t be back until Wednesday at the earliest.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t expected he’d be gone five days. I hadn’t been away from my brother for that long since February.

  “You okay?”

  “Of course.”

  “There’s something I want to show you.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked when Tackle drove down one of the area’s most historic streets.

  “A house I want to show you.”

  “In this neighborhood?”

  Tackle reached over and took my hand. “Keep an open mind.”

  “Houses in Chestnut Hill go for millions of dollars.”

  He laughed. “Not all of them.” He slowed the car. “Close your eyes.”

  “No.”

  “Pretend you’re naked, Sloane.”

  “What?”

  “Just do it.”

  “Oh my God. Okay, I’m naked.”

  “Now, close your eyes.”

  As much as it had been a joke a few seconds ago, when Tackle used his growly, gravelly voice, his wish was my command.

  The car kept moving, but slowly, then stopped. “Eyes still closed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do not open them.”

  “Yes, sir,” I joked.

  His door closed, and seconds later, mine opened.

  “Closed,” he whispered as something soft covered my eyes. Whatever it was, felt like silk, and he tied it at the back of my head. “Give me your hand.”

  Tackle helped me from the car and, with one arm around my back and the other holding my hand, led me a few feet from it. “We’ll be going up ten steps. Ready?”

  I nodded.

  “A few feet more.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  “Trust me, Sloane.”

  We stopped, and he removed the silk covering my eyes. “Okay, open.”

  I gasped. “You remembered,” I said so quietly I almost couldn’t hear myself speak.

  “When my dad asked me to meet him here a few weeks ago, I couldn’t believe it.”

  Back when our family first moved to Newton, Tackle and my brother used to come to the park on the other side of the street and play football. It was where Knox broke his neck.

  One day, they brought me with them; I couldn’t remember why. My parents had probably asked my brother to babysit.

  Instead of watching whatever they were doing, I sat on a bench and stared across the street at the house I now stood under the portico of.


  It was dilapidated then, and now it was worse, but when I looked at it, all I could see was its former grandeur.

  I turned around to look at the park and wondered why Tackle had brought me here. “Is it for sale?”

  He shook his head. “Not anymore.”

  “Oh.”

  “Come on, let’s go in.”

  “We can’t.”

  “Sure, we can.” He kept a tight grasp on my hand with one of his while he opened the front door with the other.

  “They just left it open?”

  “Not quite.” He closed the door behind us. “How about a tour?”

  “Tackle—”

  He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. “Trust me,” he repeated.

  “Okay.”

  We walked into the foyer. On the left was a formal dining room, and on the right, a parlor. Both had big windows that looked out over the expanse of the front lawn and the park across the street.

  “There used to be a piano that sat in this front window,” I said, surprising myself at the memory.

  “This is one of four fireplaces,” Tackle said, pointing to it as we walked out of that room, down the hallway to the door that led to the kitchen.

  It was twice as large as my parents’, and while I’d never considered a kitchen beautiful, this one was. It had high ceilings and more cupboards than I’d ever seen in a person’s home. “Is someone renovating the place?” I asked, running my hand over the brand-new chef’s cooktop.

  “Someone is.” Tackle went back through the swinging door. “This is where the second fireplace is,” he said, motioning to a sitting room smaller than the front parlor. Windows with a view of the backyard lined two of the outer walls. “The house sits on two acres—almost unheard of in this part of the state.”

  He led me over to the staircase; I followed him up and to the front of the house.

  “This is the master bedroom. The bathrooms need more work than other parts of the house, other than the kitchen.”

  There was a window seat that stretched out across three-quarters of the room. I remembered that too and the daydreams I’d had about sitting on it and reading. I couldn’t help but wonder why Tackle was talking about the place so intimately. “Is this one of your dad’s projects?” I asked.

  “Sort of.” He walked through another doorway. “There is plenty of room for a large bathroom as well as a walk-in closet. Two, actually.”