Skirting Fate by Salem Cross

Skirting Fate by Salem Cross

Author:Salem Cross [Cross, Salem]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-07-08T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Nineteen

Gemma

I’m exhausted.

When I slip downstairs to make myself a cup of coffee and toast the following morning, Tate is there waiting for me. When he tells me that his plans for the day include following my every move, I’m not in the mood nor do I have the energy to object.

I hardly notice the trees and suburban houses flying by as Tate drives me to work. The handsome ex-soldier with his shaved head, wide shoulders, and deep blue eyes hasn’t taken his eyes off the road since we got in the car. Occasionally when I look over, I catch him scanning the area in front of us for danger. We’ve hardly spoken a word to one another since breakfast, but I’m okay with that. I don’t need his cantankerous attitude right now.

Mentally, I start making a list of things I need to get done today. I have my laptop on my lap. I itch to open it and get to work. I’m so far behind, and while I managed to get done what I set out to do on Saturday, that only puts me on schedule, not ahead of it. I check my emails on my phone. Two of the three designers that work for me emailed me this morning that they won’t be in due to either a family emergency or the cold. Great, more work for me. I have to make sure their clients are happy, too.

Luckily, the stress of work manages to keep my attention off the two men who have been bound to me. Darion had to go to court to file some paperwork this morning. He was getting dressed in his own room when Tate and I left. Christopher was in the shower. Part of me wonders if I should have kissed them both before leaving for work.

No, I need some space from them both. This is too much too fast, and I just can’t handle it.

When Tate pulls up to my building, he holds a hand up, indicating that I should wait. I huff in annoyance but nod. Then, he simply disappears. My mouth drops open while the rest of my body freezes. Christopher warned me about Tate, but seeing it with my own eyes… No one can prepare for that. Quickly, I compose myself, remembering Christopher’s warning about how touchy Tate is to people’s reactions.

It’s silent for about five minutes. The parking lot fills with businessmen and women who work in the surrounding buildings as I wait. I tap my foot impatiently. How long am I supposed to wait? Is he going to give me a sign that everything is okay? I don’t see any sign of the mysterious Tate Ganger; then, suddenly he is there opening my door.

“All clear,” he says softly.

I step out of the car with my purse and laptop in tow. Tate follows me to the door and stands close as I punch in the code. I want to mock him and throw his words back in his face about staying out of each other’s space, but I hold my tongue.



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