Page 55 of Tate
Glo needed someone willing to stand on the sidelines and watch her shine.
The bunk room, for the guys who worked full time and didn’t have digs in town, hosted a weight room, sauna, pool table, darts, a kitchenette, laundry, and a communications room that rivaled NASA.
He’d spent more than a few hours doing homework on the Bryant League. Had a call—or few—in to his sister, who seemed to be ignoring him.
The sooner he caught the sniper and the guys who bombed the arena, the sooner he knew the immediate threat had been neutralized, the sooner he could ditch his agreement with the senator, turn his attention on Glo, and make this a fair fight.
The couple stopped in the cool shade of the pavilion, and Glo leaned against one of the corner poles, turning to Sloan. She touched his chest, a playful gesture as she laughed.
The flirting slipped under Tate’s skin, buzzed. He gritted his jaw as he stopped and stood at a distance, his body turned away, searching for threats, although honestly, the unscheduled stop was probably one of the safest moves.
Still, they couldn’t completely shut down the garden without prior notice, so it was on him to keep a heads-up.
His scan brushed over Glo and just as it did, she looked up.
She had the most amazing hazel-green eyes, with glints of gold in the sunshine, darkening as twilight dipped into them, and now they held on to him, just a moment.
Testing?
He didn’t know what to think. And of course, Sloan picked right then to lean in, to cup her cheek and go in for a kiss.
She turned her head, laughing, but Tate couldn’t move, caught in the horror of watching the woman he loved—okay, maybe not loved, but—well, he didn’t know what else it might be called when it felt like his freakin’ heart was being ripped through his ribs, his breath serrated in his chest. He held in the nearly uncontrollable urge to close the gap and yank Sloan away from her?—
And right then Kelsey’s voice ripped through him. Steeling him.You may be who Glo wants, but make sure you’re who she needs too.
He may not be who Glo wanted anymore, but yes, he was who she needed.
Which meant he stood there, a stone falling through his chest as he watched Sloan pull away and kiss her forehead. So far, she’d dodged him, but it would only be a matter of time before Sloan actually landed one on Glo and then Tate’s head just might pop off.
Tate swallowed, anything to loosen his dry throat, and turned away.
Shoot, all the moisture in his throat had gone to his eyes.
This was stupid. Maybe even fatal.
“You okay, Rango? You were making some funny sounds through the comms.”
“I’m fine.” Movement out of his periphery had him looking back at Glo. She’d taken Sloan’s hand again and now they were headed back up the path.
Hopefully home.
Please.
He followed her out and met Swamp’s gaze when he spotted him standing next to the car. The man wore his blond hair longer than most, had a surfer vibe, despite his suit and tie. He opened the door for Sloan and Glo, tucked them inside, and Tate went around to the passenger side, front seat.
The partition was up, and he turned the AC on full blast.
Swamp said nothing as he slid into the driver’s seat and headed back to the Jackson estate. Except, when they pulled up, Glo slid down the partition. “Tate can get out here. Then we’d like to continue on to Sloan’s place. Baker, you can take over from there.”
Tate closed his eyes in pain, argument broaching his lips just as Glo slid the partition closed.
Swamp glanced at him. “I got this. Get outta here.”
Yeah. And maybe Baker was right on the nose.
He should leave. At the very least, Tate needed fresh air.
He got out, and Swamp pulled away, leaving Tate standing in the driveway as the night dipped around him, his hands in fists.
