Chapter 7
Seven
“I think it’s safe to say that this guy is just fine.” As if to thank him for the diagnosis, Duke bounced up to give Sebastian a sloppy kiss.
Paisley released a slow breath, finally able to let go of one fear. “Thank you. I know it was probably an overreaction, but I just... He’s my baby. If anything happened to him, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“Nonsense, of course you were worried,” Laurel soothed, squeezing her shoulder. Sebastian’s fiancée was a take-charge, no-nonsense sort of woman. Paisley didn’t really know why she was here, but having another woman around was comforting. “He’s a total sweetheart of a pup.”
“I’ve always loved that he’s never met a stranger. But now... Obviously, I need to keep a closer eye on him.”
Sebastian scruffed Duke’s ears, frowning. “Are you sure he didn’t know whoever did this?”
That was an even more horrifying thought. That someone she knew might be behind all this. “I’m not sure of anything.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Ty assured her. He’d been totally locked down since the conversation with Joel, but she could see the simmer of temper underneath in the leashed power of his body.
He was pissed she’d kept him in the dark and pissed about the situation in general, but she had to admit to feeling better that he knew.
She had no idea what he’d be able to do that Metro PD hadn’t already tried, but he seemed so terrifyingly capable.
Or maybe that was her inherent romanticism casting him in hero-colored glasses.
Another knock sounded.
Sebastian straightened. “Ah, that’ll be the cavalry. I figured I’d go ahead and get them en route since you choose to live at the ass end of the county.”
“The rest of who?” Paisley asked.
Ty opened the door, all calm, collected, and in control. “Thanks for coming.”
Harrison and Ivy stepped inside.
“I didn’t know you were back from your honeymoon!”
“Only just.” As Harrison accepted Duke’s enthusiastic greeting, Ivy came straight over and wrapped Paisley in a hug.
“It’s good to see you, girl. We didn’t get to catch up at the wedding.
But I guess you were sufficiently entertained.
” One corner of her mouth twitched, and she arched her brows in question.
“Something like that.” She knew perfectly well there’d be a more overt demand for details later.
“Any word back from the detective?” Harrison asked.
She shifted her attention to Ty. “You already told them?”
“Only the essentials, which is all I know. You’re about to tell us all of it.
” Without batting an eye, he turned back to Harrison.
“To answer your question, the house was locked but there are scratches around the door where the lock was probably picked. Alarms didn’t go off.
I’ll get both of those taken care of tomorrow when we get to Nashville and meet with Detective Fisher. ”
The men nodded, as if this made complete sense.
Paisley crossed her arms. “Excuse me?”
Ty shrugged. “There’s no reason to go tonight. Metro PD has eyes on your house, and we already know whoever did it is likely closer to here than there.”
She blinked, trying to process. “You’re going back to Nashville with me?”
“Of course.” His mouth pulled down, as if he was annoyed the thought hadn’t occurred to her. “I want a look at things myself and to talk to Fisher about the case in person. And you need to get more clothes before we come back here.”
“Come back here,” she repeated, her head spinning.
“You’re staying with me until this is resolved.”
If Ty noticed the others’ startled reactions to his announcement, he didn’t show it. He didn’t even seem to be aware of her rising level of annoyance.
“I’m what now?”
“It makes the most sense. You can work anywhere, and I can protect you better here. My town. My turf.”
She waited to see if he’d add his woman. But of course, he didn’t. He was too busy orchestrating her life like some kind of op, as if she were a chess piece on a board instead of a person with wants, desires, and opinions of her own.
“I didn’t ask you for any of this.” Considering there was a potent blend of temper and anxiety kicking through her, Paisley thought she kept her tone admirably even.
“Yeah. And we’ll talk about that later.”
A headache started to claw its way up the back of her neck as the temper won out. She paced a short circuit behind the couch, waving her hand at him. “It’s like Keith Rimmer all over again. You just decided to handle it with no input from me.”
Ty snorted. “He never bothered you again.”
“You broke his nose!”
“He grabbed your ass. I was just supposed to let that go?”
Sebastian raised a hand. “Uh, did you two have an even busier few weeks than I realized?”
“High school,” Paisley bit out. “He did it in high school.”
“Wait, you two knew each other in high school?” Laurel asked.
“We dated for most of it.” The array of Ohs that went around the room made Paisley wonder what Ty might have said about her without using her actual name. That was a question for another time. “In case it’s escaped your notice, we aren’t in high school anymore, Tyson. I’m not yours to protect.”
He closed the distance between them so fast, she stumbled back a step. He didn’t touch her, but she could feel the heat of temper rolling off him in waves. His voice was low, lethal. “If you think I’m capable of walking away again, you are sorely mistaken.”
Her body leapt to attention at the promise and possession in his words. God, she wanted that. Wanted him. But she knew better than to trust it. He’d made it very clear after the wedding that he had nothing to offer.
Don’t make promises you can’t keep.
The words hovered on the tip of her tongue.
But that would show her hand, and she didn’t know if this urgency she felt from him would last once the danger was past. Needing to get back on some kind of even keel, she dug deep to find something—anything—that would diffuse a little of this desperate, vibrating tension between them.
“You’re a lot bossier than you were at eighteen. ”
A hint of humor flickered in his eyes. “Blame the Army.”
Her lips twitched. She didn’t want to leave him, didn’t want to go home. A forced-proximity situation wasn’t the most ideal way to explore things with him, but it was the opportunity she had. She wouldn’t waste it. “Fine, since you asked so sweetly, I’ll stay.”
Ty’s posture relaxed as he visibly dropped from DEFCON 1. “I’ll work on the bossy thing.”
She could imagine other scenarios where that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “Yeah, we’ll talk about that later, too.” Giving in to the need to touch him, she patted his chest. “Meanwhile, if you want me to spill my guts, you’re going to have to feed me. I believe I was promised nachos.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He skimmed a thumb over her cheek, making her heart jump, even as she reflexively turned into the touch.
His eyes searched hers for another long moment before he turned away, wiping the emotion from his face. “Y’all eaten?”
Paisley didn’t actually hear their responses. She was too busy trying to catch her breath. Duke trotted over, leaning against her legs and head-butting her hand to demand pets. She buried her trembling fingers in his fur.
As Ty moved to the kitchen, Ivy wandered over, murmuring sotto voce, “Lucy, you got some ’splaining to do.”
“See,” Sebastian insisted. “He smiled.”
Laurel poked him in the ribs.
“Keep it up, Donnelly, and you forfeit your dinner rations,” Ty called from the kitchen.
“Just callin’ it like I see it.”
Because she still felt a little shaky, Paisley circled around and dropped onto the sofa. Duke sprawled at her feet. “Okay, so, not that I don’t appreciate the collective support, but I’m not exactly clear on why you’re all here.”
“Ty called, we came,” Sebastian said simply. “It’s what brothers do.”
“And because, collectively, we can bring to bear considerably more brain power than has likely been devoted to your case by Metro PD,” Harrison added. “I guarantee they haven’t had a profiler look at your situation.”
“Profiler?”
Ivy took a seat, leaning against her husband and looking faintly embarrassed as she raised her hand.
“I thought your degree was in psychology.”
“Forensic psychology. I originally intended to go into the FBI before I decided I preferred dealing with murder on paper.”
Paisley stared. “How did I not know this about you?”
“Never came up. Plenty from our pasts hasn’t.” She shot a pointed glance at Ty.
“Subtle,” Paisley muttered. “And don’t think I won’t remember this next time I get a wild hair to write romantic suspense.”
“Noted. But for now, what’s going on?”
“I don’t actually know where to start. It’s hard to say what the beginning was.”
“What’s the first thing that gave you hinky vibes?” Laurel offered her own wry smile. “Recovering attorney.”
“There were packages to my P.O. Box. The contents weren’t overtly threatening, but they struck me as odd.
Usually, when fans send me stuff—which isn’t all that often—there’s a letter that comes with it, gushing about my books and telling me about why they think I’ll like whatever it is they sent.
It’s lovely, really. But this wasn’t that.
They were anonymous. No return address, no signature.
No explanation at all. Just this printed card with ‘Your biggest fan’ on it.
Maybe I’ve read Misery one too many times.
I told myself I was being paranoid after I got mugged.
Looking for conspiracies that weren’t there. ”
“You got mugged?” Guard dog Ty was back, handing her a beer. “When?”
She sipped to wet the throat gone dry. “Back in July. Classic attacked in a parking garage situation by a guy in a ski mask. I wasn’t hurt, really.
Just scared. He got away with my purse. I reported it to the police, of course, but nothing ever came of it.
There weren’t any cameras and no leads to follow. ”
“When did the packages start?” Harrison asked.
“About four months ago.”