Chapter 12
Twelve
“Do you want to tell me why I had to hear from my sister-in-law that you and Ty have moved into the inn?”
Paisley scowled at Emerson’s voice on the phone, wondering which one of Caleb’s four sisters had blabbed. Either Xander’s wife, Kennedy, or Pru, the one who also had a teenage daughter. “Hello to you too, Em. How are things in preggoland?”
“Don’t change the subject. What’s going on?”
Probably Pru.
Knowing she’d been cornered, Paisley shoved back from the desk and began to pace the confines of the comfortable room that had begun to feel like a prison over the past three days.
“That little maybe-a-stalker problem has turned into definitely-a-stalker problem.” She gave Emerson the summarized version of events as Duke trailed her around the room like a faithful shadow.
“Oh my God! Why didn’t you tell me?
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
“How bad is it?”
“I mean, I’ve been forced to uproot again. Without being consulted. Again.” She sighed. “On top of which, I’m beyond tired of having my life interrupted. All this chaos isn’t conducive to my work. Your sisters-in-law are lovely, and the inn is great, but I’m desperate for some privacy and routine.”
A deep male voice spoke up. “I have another brother who can help with that.”
Of course, Caleb was right there. His seemingly endless parade of former foster siblings was the epitome of “I’ve got a guy for that.”
“Hi, Caleb. And that’s not necessary.”
“Are you sure you’re safe there?” Emerson asked. “I mean, Ty still has to work, right? He’s not on 24-hour bodyguard duty?”
“No, he’s not. But I’m as safe here as anywhere. It’s a houseful of people.”
“Offer stands.”
“Thanks.” She paused. “Is Caleb still right there?”
“He doesn’t have to be.”
“Understood. Girl talk. I’m gonna go take Mooch for a run. Take care, Pais. Be careful.”
“I will.”
“Okay, he’s gone. What is it, babe?”
“I’m worried about Ty. When this started, it felt like we were a team in this, but since this latest thing, he’s been in a really bad headspace.
We’ve slept in the same bed, but he’s barely touched me.
He’s not really sleeping, and I can sense him spiraling.
He’s been all up in his head and is spending long hours chasing…
well, I have no idea what leads because he’s not talking to me.
He’s shutting me out, and I don’t know what to do about it. ”
“That’s a tough one. He promised you’d be safe, and then you weren’t. That’s got to mess with his whole alpha-male-protector view of himself.”
“I don’t blame him for that.”
“Yeah, but it sounds like he does. Maybe he needs a confidence boost. Something to remind him that you still see him as capable.”
“Maybe.” But Paisley didn’t think it would be anywhere near that simple.
The door opened, and Ty strode in, walking straight by her, into the bathroom.
“I gotta go. Ty just got back. Give my love to, Fi.”
“Will do. Good luck.”
Hanging up, Paisley tossed her phone on the bed.
The shower started up. Maybe she could join him and get past this wall that had grown up between them. But when she tried the knob, it was locked. Resigned to waiting, she considered going back to the book, but everything she’d written the last few days had been tossed.
When he emerged half an hour later, he didn’t look any more relaxed.
The strain of the last days showed on his face, in the tense line of his jaw.
Needing to do something to soothe, Paisley crossed the room, wrapping her arms around him, not caring that the damp from his shower was soaking her shirt.
But he stepped away, moving to the duffel bag with his clothes.
Trying not to take offense, she dropped into the desk chair. “Talk to me, Galahad.”
He flinched. “Don’t call me that.”
“I’ve always called you that.”
With fast, jerky movements, he began to dress. “I’m no knight.”
Duke whined and nose bumped Ty’s hip. He ignored the dog, too.
“I mean, right now you’re acting more like the Dark one, but Bruce Wayne is a mouthful, and I don’t think I can call you Batman with a straight face.”
The attempt at humor fell as flat as the expression in his hazel eyes. “You can really joke right now?”
“When I think you’re being ridiculous, yes.” God knew, if she took this too seriously right now, she was probably going to break down. “It’s a nickname, Ty. One I’ve used for years that you always used to like.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw as he yanked a shirt over his head. “I’m not who I used to be.”
“Yes, you are. You’re still my personal hero.”
“How can you honestly look at me and say that?”
Confidence boost. Right, I can endure some embarrassment if it’ll help him get through this.
“Because it’s how I’ve always I’ve seen you. Every male lead I imagined for my books was another incarnation of you. Different features, different professions, different situations, but still, at the heart, the man I’ve always seen.”
With a look of profound disgust, he shook his head.
“Then you’re blinded by your own romanticism.
Wake up to fucking reality, Paisley. The world isn’t handing out happy endings.
Life isn’t some fairy tale, and I’m not like the ridiculous heroes in your books.
I don’t have the answers. I don’t even know the right goddamn questions anymore.
I couldn’t save Garrett, and I’m never going to save you, so stop putting that on me! ”
His words hung in the air between them like poison gas. Paisley couldn’t speak past the stunning pain as they leeched into her. As the silence turned long and toxic, Ty jammed his feet into boots, grabbed his keys, and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.
Paisley sank down on the bed already feeling the tears coursing down her cheeks. Duke slunk over, tail tucked, and wriggled his way under her arm. Pressing her face into his fur, she held her sweet, loyal dog, and wept.
Rationally, she recognized that Ty was lashing out, taking out his frustrated impotence at the situation on her.
But she was hurting too, damn it. He’d just essentially reduced her to a silly schoolgirl, one without a single toe in reality.
She could take being there for his healing, if he was going to heal, but not if he was going to dismiss her life’s work.
Not once, in any of her many many relationships had she tolerated a lack of respect. She wasn’t about to start now.
He wanted to be free of her expectation that he’d save her.
The expectation she’d never explicitly put on him.
Fine. She’d leave and lift that burden. She’d been leaving all her life, hadn’t she?
Running was what she knew best. She’d believed for years that men could be enjoyed but not counted on.
He was the whole reason for that belief.
Shame on her for believing he’d changed.
Grabbing her phone, she tapped a text to Emerson.
Talk to Caleb’s brother.
Ty eyed his fourth shot of whiskey.
This was a bad idea. But, hell, he was full of bad ideas. Like starting things back up with Paisley. Like believing he could protect her. Like thinking he could ever possibly deserve to have her look at him as a hero.
Terrible ideas across the board.
Oh, and he couldn’t forget to add being an insecure asshole and yelling at the woman he loved and essentially calling her stupid for thinking he was anything other than the miserable, broken sack of shit he was.
Remembering the stunned devastation on her face, he picked up the glass and tossed it back.
The shot burned its way down his gullet, but the whiskey didn’t burn nearly as bad as the shame.
By his recollection, he needed the rest of the bottle to outrun that.
Maybe more. A sketchy place like The Right Attitude probably watered down their drinks.
But where else was a man going to drink himself blind on alcohol that could probably double as paint stripper?
Home? No, he didn’t dare go back there. Not when he knew he’d see Paisley’s absence in every square inch of the place. He’d probably have to move.
Before he could lift his hand to signal the bartender for another, a familiar figure slid onto the stool beside him. Harrison eyed the row of empty glasses. “Thought you gave this up.”
Instead of answering the implied question, Ty asked one of his own. “How did you find me?”
“We split up. Sebastian headed out to your place. Porter took the tavern. I was the lucky winner.”
“How’d you even know to look for me?”
“Your, shall we say, precipitous exit from the inn did not go unnoticed. Ari texted Ivy.”
Ty squinted through eyes that were starting to go a little bleary, trying to place the name. Dark hair. High school student. Thought Paisley was the coolest thing since…something cool. “Why does Pru and Flynn’s teenage daughter even have Ivy’s number?”
“They became buds when Ivy stayed there last year. Anyway, she indicated that you and Paisley had a fight, and you did not look great when you left. Given the state of the investigation and the fact you’ve been wound tighter than a bow string for days, it seemed prudent to check.
” He glanced at the glasses again. “You planning on keeping going with that?”
“You planning to stop me?”
“From getting behind the wheel, absolutely, but if you want to get shit-faced instead of actually dealing with the problem, that’s your call.” He shrugged, as if it truly didn’t matter to him. “It’s a dumb call, but your life, such as it is.”
Bristling, Ty curled his fingers around the empty glass instead of into a fist. He’d clocked Harrison once over hard truths and had felt like an asshole ever since. Even in this state, he wouldn’t do it again.
“I fucked everything up, just like I knew I would. I hurt her, just like before. Except this time, it wasn’t because I had some noble purpose, but because I’m too fucking broken to be what she needs and deserves.”
The bartender wandered back over, pointing at the bottle that would bring him oblivion for just a little while, but at a shake of Harrison’s head, he retreated again.
“What exactly do you think that is?”
“Somebody who can be that hero she’s always wanted. Somebody who can keep her safe and find this asshole who’s upending her life. Somebody who doesn’t make promises he can’t keep.”
“Hm.” Harrison glanced at his watch. “Should’ve been Sebastian to catch you in this mood.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Just that he’s got a lot more experience shoveling horse shit.”
“Excuse me?”
“That is some grade-A, top-quality horse shit, my brother. And maybe that’s on me. I’m the one who told you last year you needed to find a new mission. I didn’t realize you’d take me quite so literally.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Finding a new mission is not about taking that literal military mission mentality and applying it to everything else. You’ve been treating life like a fucking op.
One with an expiration date any day now.
You haven’t set down roots, haven’t connected with anybody but those already in your inner circle.
Until Paisley. She snuck past that infamous guard of yours because she was already there.
And it’s been the best damned thing that could have happened to you.
Over the past weeks, I’ve seen you alive again, not just going through the motions.
But you’ve turned her into a mission, and that’s not how love works.
She’s a person. A pretty damned awesome one.
She is not with you because she needs or wants a bodyguard.
She’s with you because she loves you. It’s in every look, every word she writes.
That’s not a thing you have to earn. It’s a gift, and to act like it’s anything else is the height of foolishness. ”
He hadn’t been treating life like a mission. He’d just been surviving, existing until she came back into his life. She’d made him want to be that hero she claimed to see. He’d tried. He’d tried so damned hard to live up to those expectations. To be worthy of her love. And he’d failed.
“I didn’t protect her.”
“You’re running an op without enough information.
Sometimes shit gets FUBAR. You know that.
But she’s fine. She’s safe. And if you’ll pull your head out of your ass, you’ll keep her that way.
” He laid a hand on Ty’s shoulder. “Don’t throw her away because you’re conflating your feelings about Garrett’s death with this situation.
You’re not responsible for the actions of other people. You’re only responsible for your own.”
His own actions had likely destroyed whatever chance he’d had with Paisley. “I was an asshole.”
“I’m sure you were. Just as I’m sure she’ll forgive you for it once you’ve appropriately groveled.”
Something ballooned in his chest. It took him a minute to recognize it for what it was. Hope.
Was Harrison right? Did he stand a chance of having her forgive him even after everything he’d said, all the pulling away and hot and cold routine? Only one way to find out. Ty dug out his wallet and threw money on the bar. As he slid off the stool, the room promptly dipped.
Harrison’s arm slipped around him. “Whoa there. Gotcha.”
“I need to go apologize for all the things.” And then maybe he could underscore all of those apologies with orgasms. She liked those. Maybe that was his new mission. Seemed like a way better one than what he’d been on.
Harrison began to steer him across the scarred wood floor toward the door. “I think you need to sober up first. I’m not gonna dump your ass on Paisley to take care of in this condition. We’re going back to my place so you can sleep it off.”
“We can brainstorm how I should grovel.”
He tugged open the door. “I’m sure Ivy will be full of ideas.”