CHAPTER
Three
LAUREN
I stand under the water longer than I probably should, but damn, it feels so good. It’s mortifying that it took Ty coming to my door to remind me that I haven’t showered, or eaten really, in days.
It happens all the time when the words are flowing. I lose all sense of time as I fall into the rhythm of the story. Not to mention, it was a welcome reprieve this week, after the Jack mess on Monday.
And now Ty is in my house, looking all sexy in his Metallica T-shirt and faded blue jeans, making me dinner.
I have no idea the last time someone made me dinner.
After rinsing my hair for the third time, I step out of the shower and dry my body quickly, then pull on clean clothes and quickly dry my hair, brushing it briskly. Finally, I brush on a coat of mascara and smooth some clear gloss on my lips, then briefly stop before the mirror to check out the results.
Yep, major improvement.
At least I’m clean.
I cringe as I think of what I must have looked like when I answered the door, and I descend the stairs, finding Ty in the kitchen.
“I believe I smell better,” I announce, catching his attention. He smiles at me and my feet pause as hot need sets up residence in my belly. Ty saunters to me, his eyes pinned to my own, and without breaking his stride, he pulls me easily into his arms for a big hug, rocking me back and forth. He buries his nose in my hair and takes a long, deep breath as his big hands glide over my back, from my shoulders to my hips. My nipples instantly pucker against him, and I thank the Lord above that I changed into a looser-fitting shirt.
“Mmm, you smell fantastic,” he murmurs. “Are you hungry?”
“I might be dying of starvation,” I mutter into his chest, earning a chuckle from him, and I calm. He makes me nervous, but in a good way. I’m happy he’s here.
“It’s a good thing we have provisions then. Come on, the table is set.” He pulls away, but keeps my hand in his, linking our fingers, and leads me to the dining room.
The man seems to like to touch me.
I’m not complaining.
I can’t help but admire the tattoos on his arm, the colors and lines that decorate his skin. I’d love to trace them with my tongue.
Seriously? He’s just being nice!
He guides me into the dining room and I gasp. “Did I take a two-hour shower?”
“No.” He chuckles and holds a chair out for me.
“How did you do all of this?” I gaze about the room. The long, black table seats ten. The large chandelier over the center of the table is lit, but on low. Ty found my candles and lit three of them at one end of the table. He set two places, and each is filled with delicious-looking pasta, salad, and bread.
But what shocks the hell out of me is the large bouquet of orange calla lilies in the center of the table.
I look at him in wonder. He chuckles again and kisses the top of my head before taking his own seat.
“The Italian restaurant delivers now?” I ask, recognizing my favorite bread.
“No.” He winces. “I wanted to cook, but your cupboards are bare and I didn’t have time to shop. I called in the order and Jill delivered.”
“Jill knows you’re here?” I ask, wide-eyed.
“Is that a problem?” he asks with a raised brow.
“No.” I shake my head and take a bite of penne with red sauce. “I’m just . . . surprised.”
“She dropped it off and tried to grill me with questions, but I cut her off at the pass.” He winks at me and takes a bite of bread and then lifts a bottle of pinot noir. “Wine?”
“I shouldn’t.” I wrinkle my nose. “I have to go back to work later.”
“One glass?” He grins, holding the bottle over my glass, and I cave.
“One glass.”
“So, how long have you been writing?”
“My whole life.” I sip my wine. “But I’ve been published for about eighteen months.”
“That’s fast.”
“That’s an understatement.” I laugh and stab a tomato with my fork. “I feel like I’m caught in a hurricane. But it’s been fantastic too.”
“Why didn’t you publish sooner?”
“I needed something after Mom and Dad passed and Jack left. So I absorbed myself in writing. It occupied my brain so I wasn’t always so sad and lonely.” I scowl.
“What?”
“That sounded pathetic.”
“No, it didn’t. I get it.” He lays his hand over mine and squeezes reassuringly before returning to his food. “You’ve clearly found your calling. You’re in high demand.”
“It still doesn’t seem real.” He raises an eyebrow. “If you’d have asked me two years ago if I ever thought I’d sell tens of millions of books and have those books optioned for a blockbuster movie, I’d have had the guys with the straitjackets come get you.”
He throws his head back and laughs, then pushes his empty plate away and leans his elbows on the table as he sips his wine, watching me with the look of a man who is confident in his own skin and enjoys watching the woman he’s with.
I wish I had his confidence.
“Are you finished?”
“Oh my God, I’m so full.” I push the plate away and lean back in the chair. “It was delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Come on, let’s take the wine and go sit on the couch.” He rises, grabs the bottle and his glass, and motions for me to follow him. I can’t help but notice how spectacular his ass looks in those jeans.
I flip the switch on the gas fireplace in the corner of the family room off the kitchen, then settle into one end of a long, soft sofa, pulling my bare feet up under me. Ty sits a few feet away, close enough to touch me. He sits facing me, one leg pulled up, and leans his elbow on the back of the couch, his head resting in his hand, and watches me with happy gray eyes.
“Thanks for coming by,” I murmur softly, and sip my wine.
“Please don’t let your phone go dead again. I’ll worry.” He exhales deeply, watching me for my response.
“I’ll plug it in.” I lean my head against the couch. Ty refills my wineglass, earning a mock glare from me. “I guess I won’t be working any more tonight.”
“Something tells me you could use a good night’s sleep.” He fills his own glass before setting the bottle on the floor.
“Tell me something,” I begin, my confidence bolstered by the alcohol.
“Anything.” He smiles.
“What do you have up your sleeve?”
“What are you talking about?” He frowns.
I shrug and look down into my glass. “Why are you being so nice to me, Ty? People don’t do things like this just for the hell of it.”
He pauses as his narrowed gaze travels over my face, not even bothering to pretend that he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. He looks angry for a moment and rubs his fingers over his lips in agitation, and I can’t help but wonder what I did wrong.
“I didn’t mean to offend you. . . .”
“You didn’t offend me, Lo. Is it so unbelievable that I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and spend some time with you?”
“But why?” I ask again, confused. “What do you want from me?”
He stills, looking lost. “I don’t want anything.”
“Everyone wants something,” I reply dryly. “Trust me.”
He continues to watch me like I’m some kind of science experiment. “Lauren, the only thing I want from you is you.”
My jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
He shakes his head and chuckles before taking a sip of his wine. “I’ve been attracted to you for a while now, Lo.”
“So you want to fuck me,” I surmise with disgust. “We could have avoided this whole seduction scene, Ty. Thanks but no thanks.” I move to rise, but he catches my arm, pulling me back to my ass.
“What the fuck?” He’s pissed. “This wasn’t a fucking seduction scene, it was me doing something nice for someone I like. And I didn’t say I wanted to fuck you, although don’t get me wrong, I do. I want to get to know you, Lauren.”
“You want to date me?” I squeak.
“I believe that’s what I’ve been saying.” He’s completely exasperated, and I can’t help but smile at him.
“Why now? Is it because of the books?” My heart sinks at the prospect that he’s the first person in my life that I’ve confided in about the books and now he’s just interested because of my newfound success, but it makes sense.
I’ve never had anyone in my life that was here without wanting something from me.
He scowls again and replies coldly, “I came here before I had any idea about your books, and now you’re pissing me off. Don’t ever insult either of us like that again.”
I swallow hard and cringe. “Why now?” I whisper.
“It wouldn’t have been right to approach you before, Lo. You had lost your parents and your marriage. You were sad, and hitting on married women just isn’t my style.”
I hadn’t realized that I looked so sad on the outside, and that makes me just a little bit more self-conscious.
“To be honest, I just don’t want to stay away anymore.” My eyes find his again and he offers me a half grin. “I would very much enjoy getting to know you better, Lauren. If that’s okay with you?”
I bite my lip and watch his finger glide around the rim of his glass.
“Lauren,” he whispers.
“I’d like that,” I reply softly.
He watches me lazily, sipping his drink, his temper calming. Finally, he sets his wine aside and takes my hand in his once again.
“You hold my hand a lot.”
“You have beautiful hands. Does it bother you?”
“No, it doesn’t bother me.”
“Lo?” he whispers.
“Yeah?”
“I want to kiss you so bad it hurts.”
I gasp and watch him with wide eyes as he reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear, then gently runs his finger down my cheek. The air between us is full of anticipation.
“What’s stopping you?”
I bite my lip, waiting for his response. He pulls my lip free with his thumb and brushes it along the tender flesh. Finally, he leans in, moving exquisitely slowly. He cups my cheek in his hand and lowers his face to mine. His lips nibble at the side of my mouth, making my eyes flutter closed as my hand glides tentatively up his arm, over his shoulder, and into his thick, black hair.
He’s tender, gentle, as his lips sweep over my own to the other corner to tease and tempt some more.
I sigh as he brushes his nose over the tip of my own, then he sinks into me, his lips moving over me in the sweetest dance I’ve ever experienced. His tongue brushes over my lips, then slips inside my mouth, not to plunder but to simply tease and slide across my own.
All too soon, he backs away. I open my eyes to find his gray ones on fire. We’re both breathing hard, and in this moment, I want nothing more than for him to strip me bare and take me right here on the couch.
But instead, he pulls me into his arms and holds me close, kissing my hair. “You taste better than I imagined.” His hand caresses my back as he supports me against him, and we sit here, watching the fire.
“So do you,” I reply softly.
His hand stills for a moment, then resumes its journey across my back.
“You’re not staying the night,” I inform him sternly.
“No, but I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
I lean back to look at him, pulling my fingertips down his cheek. “You don’t have to do that.”
He pulls my fingers to his lips and kisses each one in turn. “It’s my pleasure, sweetheart.”
He tucks me under his chin, and we sit in silence. I don’t want to fall asleep. I want to stay here in his arms, fully aware of him holding me, for as long as possible.
I’m not convinced this isn’t a dream brought on by a caffeine crash and too much work.
Ty continues to caress my back and plant small kisses on my head until the warmth of the fire and wine lull me into a deep sleep.
I am not a morning person. Early-morning swim training during high school and college just about killed me. I’m a firm believer that nothing should ever happen before 9:00 a.m..
Ever.
I moan as I turn onto my back and realize that I’m on the couch, covered in the brown blanket from my office. I grin, brush my hair off my face, and stare sleepily at the ceiling, remembering my evening with Ty.
It was . . . surprising.
I can’t believe I told him about the books. I haven’t told anyone I know in fear of its getting back to Jack, giving him a whole new set of reasons to freak out and come after me for more money. Only my agent, publisher, and Cary know about my success as an author.
I can’t explain why it was so easy to confide in Ty, except that I was still deep in a writing fog and he exudes safety. Confidence.
I naturally trust him, and that alone is enough to put me on edge because trust isn’t something I’ve ever given easily.
I sit up and toss the blanket aside, finding a note on the nearby ottoman.
Lo,
I hope you slept well. Thank you for letting me stay. Next time, you’ll be waking up in my arms rather than to a damn note.
Ty
I fold the note with a grin and then make my way upstairs to pull on some jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, along with a green scarf to ward off the early-fall chill. If I’m going to be productive today at all, and I need to be with a deadline looming in just three weeks, I will need coffee.
The kind with chocolate and sugar, all in a really, really tall cup.
A smile hovers on my lips as I drive to the café in the heart of downtown. Drips & Sips is an early-morning hot spot in Cunningham Falls. Businesspeople stop in for pastries and drinks on their way to work, and others hold meetings or just pop in to sit and read the newspaper while they enjoy their coffee.
Things are in full swing when I saunter inside to the smell of freshly baked muffins and coffee. Just the scent of the place energizes me.
“Hey, Lauren.” Cara Donovan is smiling widely as she joins me in line.
“Hey, Cara. How are you?” I grin back at her, but keep my walls firmly in place. Cara is a nice girl, but we don’t exactly run in the same circles.
“I’m good. I thought I’d grab coffee before heading to the grocery store.” Cara is a beautiful woman. She’s much shorter than me, with pretty blond hair and hazel eyes. She and I grew up together. “Want to join me?” she asks, surprising me.
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude,” I murmur.
“Trust me, I’d love some company.” Cara laughs as we approach the barista to order our drinks. “Now that I’m living with all those guys out at the ranch, I welcome girl talk whenever I can get it.”
“How are things going out there?” I ask after we gather our drinks and pastries and make our way to an empty table by the window. Cara moved out to the Lazy K Ranch with Josh roughly two months ago.
“Good.” She takes a bite of her huckleberry scone and sighs in happiness. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” I hesitate, then decide to forge ahead. “Cara, I’d like to clear the air.”
“About what?” she asks, surprised.
“Well, I just want you to know that I’m sorry for all the hell Misty put you through when you were first dating Josh.” I frown as I fiddle with my fork, not meeting Cara’s gaze. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“Lauren, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for.” Cara rests her hand on my arm. “Misty’s a bitch. It doesn’t make you one.”
I shake my head in frustration. “Well, she’s certainly not my friend anymore.”
“Why was she your friend in the first place?” Cara takes a sip of her coffee.
“She really wasn’t. She and Sunny work together, and Sunny’s my cousin, so it’s always felt natural to hang out with her.” I shrug, not sure how to explain my poor choice in friends further.
“Well, I don’t mean any offense, but Sunny is a bitch too.”
I laugh, relaxing a bit as Cara and I share breakfast and girl talk. I don’t remember the last time I felt this comfortable.
“Yeah, she is. I’ve cut some very toxic people out of my life recently.” I can tell that Cara wants to ask me more, but she doesn’t pry, and I don’t offer any more of an explanation.
“I also have a question,” I add.
“Shoot.”
“I know you and Jill Sullivan are supergood friends, and I was wondering if you know her brother, Ty, well?”
Her eyes widen and she offers me a small smile. “I do.”
“Do you know if he has a girlfriend?” I ask in a whisper, not willing to look her in the eye. God, this is mortifying.
“No, he doesn’t.” She tilts her head as she watches me. “Jill called me last night, said she delivered dinner and flowers to your place at Ty’s request.”
I flush scarlet and stuff a bite of my own scone in my mouth, not even tasting it.
“Trust me, if Ty had a girlfriend, he wouldn’t have done all of that.”
“He’s been very nice to me this week,” I murmur. “I don’t know why.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know why he’s being so nice to me.”
“Well, I think it’s pretty obvious that he must like you.”
It makes perfect sense when she says it. “I’m not used to receiving kindness with no strings attached.” I clear my throat and chuckle ruefully. “That sounded so . . .”
“Horrible. I think you should just enjoy someone doing nice things for you, Lauren.”
“Call me Lo,” I say with a small smile.
Cara meets my smile with a wide one of her own. “Ty doesn’t play games. He’s not an asshole. Enjoy him.”
I nod as I take a sip of my coffee. “Okay.”
“Also, I’m going to give you my number so you can text me all the dirt that happens from here on out, and Jill and I can torture him mercilessly.”
I laugh and shake my head. “I’ll take your number, but can’t confirm that you’ll get the dirt.”
“Oh, come on, throw us a bone once in a while.” Cara winks. “It’s our job to make his life a living hell.”
“You love him,” I observe quietly.
“He’s the closest thing to a brother I’ve ever had. So, yeah, I love him. And it goes without saying that if you break his heart, Jill and I will have to kill you.”
“Of course,” I murmur. “But I have a feeling it’s my heart that’s in danger of being hurt.”