Tyler: Chapter 6
Tyler turned into Emerson’s long driveway. Courtney had given them a pack for her ankle, and Flynn had returned empty-handed. Wherever Levi had gone, it was far enough that they wouldn’t catch him today.
Frustration thrummed through his veins that her stepbrother had been right there, across the road, and Tyler hadn’t seen him. He wanted to find the guy. Emerson believed she was safe with Levi, but her stepbrother wasn’t the same man he’d been when they were younger.
Once he parked in front of the cabin, he was out and around her side before she could even open the door. Without hesitation, he scooped her into his arms.
She sighed. “Tyler, you really don’t need to carry me everywhere.”
“You can barely walk, and you shouldn’t be putting weight on your ankle.” Plus, having her against his body felt too damn good, so he didn’t need much more reason than that.
“I’ve rolled my ankle so many times in my life, I’m used to it.” When he frowned at her, she lifted a shoulder. “I was into sports. Some days I’d literally roll my ankle, strap it, take some pain meds, and be back on court the next day.”
“Which sports?”
“Mostly volleyball, but I dabbled in basketball too.”
He wanted to see her in those volleyball shorts. “Well, lucky for you, you have me now and don’t need to do that.”
When they reached the front of the house, he lowered her to her feet so she could unlock the door. The second the door was open, he lifted her again. She gave a half protest but then sighed and leaned her head against his chest.
His heart gave a big kick. Jesus, she felt too good.
Gently, he placed her on the couch, and she untied the icepack Courtney had given her, then handed it to him. Their fingers grazed, and he ignored the shot of awareness that tried to distract him yet again. He went to the freezer and popped the partially melted pack in before grabbing a tray of ice cubes.
“There’s a plastic bag in the first drawer,” Emerson called.
He opened the drawer—then stopped. There were bags inside, but sitting on top of the box was a small, scribbled note.
Stay away from them.
The writing was messy, like it had been done in a rush, but the letters were bold. The pen nib had been pressed so hard it almost went through the page. Anger. Yeah, there was definitely some of that on the page.
“Who wrote this?” he asked, turning and pinning her with his eyes.
Her gaze zeroed in on the note in his hand, and her eyes widened. It took a moment for her to respond, and when she did, the single word was quiet. “Levi.”
His muscles tightened. “When?”
“Last night, shortly after you texted. I heard a noise outside, so I went to check. I couldn’t see anyone, and when I came back, the note was on my kitchen counter.”
His gut twisted. The guy had been moving around outside her home. Entered her house. While she’d been out here alone. He didn’t like that one fucking bit.
He slotted the note back into the drawer and was quiet as he prepared the bag of ice. When he sat beside her, he lifted her foot onto his lap. It was wrapped tightly. Gently, he pressed the ice on top of the bandage.
His voice remained low when he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me about the note?” He started a gentle massage on her ankle, something he’d learned from the medical team during his military days when he’d sprained his own ankle a couple of times.
Her gaze focused on his hands. “I planned to.”
Truth. Next question. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”
“You distract me. And when it comes to Levi, I have to think things through a bit.”
“Why?”
She wet her lips. “Because he’s important to me, and I want him to be safe.”
So, a part of her thought her brother wasn’t safe with him? Then why had she come to Blue Halo for help?
So many emotions flickered over her face as she watched his hands on her foot. The main one…desperation. She was desperate to locate her stepbrother.
“Has he hurt anyone since he’s been out, Emerson?”
Her eyes flashed back to his. “I don’t know.”
Not no. Not of course not. She wasn’t sure. Meaning, it was possible. Maybe even more likely than not.
He shifted his hands to her calf and continued to knead. “I think we should organize an around-the-clock detail for you.”
She responded as he’d known she would—by shaking her head. “I can’t afford that.”
“I wasn’t asking for more money.”
“I can’t take charity from you. I have you on speed dial. I promise to call at the first sight of him.”
His jaw tightened. It wasn’t enough. It would take him too long to get here. He wanted to argue. Hell, he wanted to push the issue until she agreed. But he wasn’t anything to her. Not a friend. Not a partner.
Frustrated, he pulled his phone from his pocket. “It’s going to be evening soon. Let’s order some food.”
Emerson washed her hands at the bathroom sink. Tyler was still here. He’d ordered Thai food, and they’d chatted all night. Just like during the walk around town, it was so easy to talk to him. He’d told her about his time in the military. How he’d been raised by a single mother.
He’d asked about her art. Listened while she talked about her passion and watched her like he really cared about her words. Rowan hadn’t been capable of that. He’d listened to her, of course, but never really seemed like he was taking anything in. His attention had usually been somewhere else. A book. A computer screen.
With a sigh, she dried her hands and limped out of the bathroom. Tyler was drying dishes. Dishes he’d washed. Because of course he cleaned. He couldn’t be the perfect man without cleaning.
She’d crossed half the room when he was suddenly beside her. He slipped his powerful arms around her once again and lifted her off her feet.
She told herself to object, but her lips only separated for a second before snapping closed again. The truth was, she was already getting used to his touch. Addicted to it, even.
He placed her on the couch and handed her a glass of red wine. She’d opened the bottle during dinner. Tyler had barely drunk any. He told her that he rarely drank, especially while on the job. Because he considered this “on the job”?
Her gaze went to the kitchen. “Tyler, I can help you tidy up.”
“I’m almost done.”
Again, she could have argued some more, but he’d already returned to the kitchen and continued drying the dishes, his thick muscles pulling at the material of his shirt. Man, oh man, he was pretty.
When he finally returned to the couch, he lifted her ankle onto his lap and restarted that torturous massage. Lord, his hands felt good. She wanted to lean back, close her eyes, and just get lost in the feeling.
“Do you still keep in contact with your ex-husband?” he asked.
She sipped her wine. “I do, actually. We’re friends. Probably should have stayed friends instead of marrying.” She swirled the wine around in her glass. “We’re opposites. He’s all science, and I’m all art. He’s studying for his PhD in neuropsychology. He lives and breathes the stuff. And he can afford to be a lifelong learner because he has a lot of generational wealth. Money inherited from his parents and grandparents.”
“So it was an amicable divorce, then?” Tyler’s deep voice brushed over her skin like soft velvet.
The small smile was automatic. “It was probably the most amicable divorce in the history of divorces.”
He watched her closely, like he took in everything she said…maybe even the words she didn’t speak. “Who initiated the divorce?”
“Me. It was a Wednesday night. We were sitting at the table, eating dinner. Neither of us had spoken a word in twenty-three minutes. I remember because my last question to him had been, ‘What’s the time?’”
His powerful hands moved over her calf, drawing her focus. They pressed and massaged and soothed her skin.
“He was reading some psychology dissertation. And out of nowhere, the idea of divorce slipped into my head. It was like this whisper inside me. But instead of feeling sad or scared, do you know what my first thought was?”
“What?” Soft. The man’s voice was soft. The only soft thing about him.
“Who would mow my lawn.”
His brows twitched, like he wondered if she was telling the truth.
She swallowed. “I didn’t feel sad about losing him or being divorced. My lawn was literally my biggest concern at that moment. Oh, and I was worried about who would change his tires. I’d always been the tire changer in the relationship.” She chuckled at the memory. “And that was when I knew it was time to leave.”
Looking up, she met his dark, intense gaze, before adding, “You should care about more than lawn and tire maintenance when you consider leaving a man you supposedly love.”
Tyler pressed his thumb into her skin and ran it down the side of her leg. “Are you happy now?”
Happy? She hadn’t asked herself that since the divorce.
No. The word was loud and firm in her head. But that had more to do with Levi than Rowan.
“I’m happier than I would have been if I’d stayed with him. Marrying Rowan was a mistake. A safe choice. Something I did because he asked, and I was getting older.”
“And what did he say when you told him you wanted a divorce?”
Even that memory made her smile, but it was more sad than anything else. “He looked at me, and I could almost see him dissecting the idea in his head. Dissecting me. He does that to everything. It’s the scientist in him. A full thirty seconds passed, then he nodded and said he agreed. And that was it. There were no tears. No arguments. We sold the house and off I went.”
Easy. So much easier than it should have been.
“I even moved into an apartment. No lawn to mow.”
He chuckled.
“What about you?” she asked. “Any great loves?” Her stomach did a little roll at the thought of this man loving another woman.
“No great loves yet.”
Yet… The word rolled over her skin, causing the hairs on her arms to stand on end. Did he expect to fall in love? Did he want to? She wanted to ask, but fear kept the question at bay.
“I meant what I said in your office the other day,” she said softly. “I really am sorry about Project Arma.” She felt awful for every person whose life had been touched by that stupid project.
“Thank you. It wasn’t all bad. For most of our time in captivity, we were kept on a large property in a big house. We were only put in cages at the end.”
Jesus. Had Levi known about the cages?
Her stepbrother’s words played in her head yet again.
If that means a few good men are sacrificed so that many others live, then that’s just what has to happen.
Tyler was one of those “few good men.”
She swallowed. “But you don’t think you could ever forgive any of the men who worked for Hylar?”
A steeliness entered his eyes. “Any person who knew what Hylar was doing, and still made the conscious decision to work for him, is beyond redemption.”
Her heart dropped, and all the warmth that had been sweeping through her limbs disappeared. There was so much anger in his voice. It was like a bucket of cold water. After the day they’d had, a part of her had started hoping, praying, that she could build trust with this man. Maybe try to explain how Levi’s experiences led to the decisions he’d made. That they’d affected his judgment.
But there was no softness in his tone. Did that mean it wouldn’t be possible?
She straightened, not wanting to think about the answer. “I should be getting to bed now.”
A crease formed between his brows. “Are you sure you’ll be okay alone? I can sleep on your couch.”
His kindness was too much. She shook her head, probably too quickly. “I’ll be okay. But thank you.”
She stood and began to hobble to the front door, but his arm swept around her waist, taking most of her weight as she walked. And God, all she wanted to do was lean into him. Let this beautiful man support her.
He opened the door and paused, worry glazing his features as he stared into the dark night.
Without thinking, she cupped his cheek. “Really, Ty. You don’t need to worry about me.”
The hand on her waist tugged her closer. “I do worry about you.”
She sucked in air, his woodsy scent infusing the air around her. “I’ll be okay.” Her words were almost a whisper, yet he heard.
Step back, Em. Get some distance.
But instead of listening to her own advice, she leaned closer.
His head lowered, and every fraction of distance his lips crept toward hers, her heart pumped harder. Her skin felt that much more sensitive, and her lungs tightened. She screamed at herself to pull away. But she just…couldn’t. Attraction for this near stranger overwhelmed her, as crazy as that seemed.
She remained perfectly still as he pressed his mouth to hers.
Oh God. The man’s lips…they were perfect and made her heart roar to a new rhythm.
His other hand swept up her back and held her so close, she could feel his entire front press against hers. And when her lips parted, and he swept his tongue inside her mouth, she moaned.
Safety. Desire. Heat. It all melded together in the most intoxicating way. It pulled her in and demanded she give all of herself to this man.
As his tongue continued to swipe against hers, she eased her fingers into the soft strands of his hair, holding him close. His hands traversed her back, one slipping up to her neck, holding her head.
She liked being held by him and could already feel it would be very easy to become addicted.
She didn’t know how long they stood like that, getting lost in each other, but all too soon he lifted his head. Her breathing was labored, and she was almost certain her eyes were hooded.
He swept his fingers through her hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Words tickled at her throat, but a nod was all she could manage.
“Lock the door after me, Amber Eyes,” he whispered.
Amber Eyes… She wanted to sigh at that intimate nickname.
He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers once again. One more gentle kiss. One more somersault of her belly. Then he whispered against her mouth, “Sleep well, honey.”
She watched him until his car disappeared down the driveway. And even then, she remained where she was.
She shouldn’t have kissed him. Mistake. One big fat mistake.
Then why had it felt so right?