Chapter 18
If Chloe never saw another paper lantern again, it would be too soon.
Granted, they looked even more festive and cozy than she’d imagined, hanging down from the rough-hewn rafters in the Blue Barn’s private party room and filling the space with glowy, jewel-toned light.
But after assembling a couple hundred of those suckers?
She’d been all too happy to hand them off to Tyler and Esme for the final task before the party.
Crossing “hang lanterns” off her punch list—because of course she had a printed copy that she’d color-coded and organized per a pre-party timeline—Chloe stood back and snuck a glance at Tyler, who was spotting Esme on the ladder as she adjusted the last handful of paper globes by the entryway.
She’d been so preoccupied with losing her virginity, part two, that she hadn’t given a lot of thought to what would happen afterward; namely, that she might want to do it again.
But she hadn’t expected the sex to be so good (no.
Earth-cracking, orbit-bending, and seriously, she was never going to be able to settle for the word “good” ever again).
Even worse—better?—he’d gone right back to normal with her, even when things had gotten intense at the Thirty-Third.
Tyler hadn’t bubble wrapped her or babied her.
Nope. Instead, he’d stood by his promise, going with her to give Esme an update on what they’d learned about the fire at the lab.
Esme had responded exactly as Chloe had thought she would, with her fair share of frustration and fear.
But just like the first time they’d gone to deliver bad news, Tyler had backed Chloe up, giving Esme enough facts to be up front without scaring her, and she’d eventually calmed enough for Chloe to reassure her that Intelligence was doing all they could to take Navarro down.
Esme’s walls were still solidly in place, but at least now they weren’t covered in barbed wire.
She’d even smiled, albeit for only a second, when Chloe had told her about the donut dessert bar they’d have at tonight’s party.
As if Tyler could feel her eyes on him, he turned to look at her, keeping both hands firmly on the ladder where Esme stood, halfway up.
His brows dipped slightly in a non-verbal “you good?”, which Chloe answered with an equally slight lift of her chin at Esme.
Tyler read it with ease, nodding back, and only then did Chloe let herself smile.
“Well, that’s interesting.” Addison’s voice yanked Chloe back to the dining room, sending a flush over her face that could probably power Rhode Island.
“The lanterns? You saw those ages ago in the catalogue, remember?” Chloe tried, but Addison called her out with a single snort.
“Girl, please. I’m a detective. For a living,” she added. “And anyway, I don’t need my mad, mad skills to see that you and Tyler just had a whole-ass conversation from across the room, and now you’re blushing. Not a little. So, could you not insult me, please?”
Chloe blew out a breath, but damn it, her smile moved of its own volition. “We’re friends,” she said, because it wasn’t technically untrue.
Addison pounced. “Who bang!”
“Only once,” Chloe hissed, trying to hush her—Ryan was around here somewhere, and she did not want her brother privy to the fact that she’d given his best friend an all-access pass to her vagina—but she realized her error, too late.
“I knew it. I knew there was something saucy going on between you two,” Addison crowed quietly. “Those cinnamon rolls were a dead fucking giveaway! Spill it, sister. I’m your bestie and I have needs.”
Chloe knew arguing would be a waste of perfectly good oxygen, and honestly, she’d been dying to tell Addison. Still… “Okay, but you cannot, and I mean cannot, tell Ryan about this.”
“It’s in the vault. Swearsies.” Addison mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key, then drew an X over the front of her T-shirt for good measure.
Biting back her smile, Chloe told her a condensed version of the story, starting with her and Tyler’s ill-fated St. Patrick’s Day kiss, moving through their truce and the help he’d given her on the case, then ending with the other night’s insanely hot no-strings-attached re-de-virginizing.
Addison listened, adding a few more “I knew it!”s to the conversation, then looked at Chloe and laughed.
“Well done, Chlo. Seriously. I mean, someone might have to give your brother just a tiny little sedative when he finds out eventually, but you and Tyler are perfect for each other.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Chloe shook her head, making triple sure Tyler was still across the room and well out of earshot. “We’re not perfect for each other, and Ryan is never finding out. Tyler just helped me with my…you know. Predicament. But that’s it. Now, we’re back to normal.”
Addison looked at Tyler, who was now talking with Ryan while Esme stood nearby, scrolling on her phone. “You know, Ryan and I totally started out as a one-night stand.”
“Annnnd this is the part of the program where I want to bleach my ears,” Chloe said, but Addison only laughed.
“Okay, okay. I know he’s your brother and I’m not trying to go the TMI route, but all I’m saying is it could happen.
You’ve known Tyler forever. He’s a good guy.
He doesn’t chew with his mouth open or think bodily functions are funny or make finger guns at people and call them ‘bro’. You’ve really never thought about…”
She let the sentence hang between them, but Chloe didn’t let it stretch out. She couldn’t, otherwise she would think about it. “In case you haven’t noticed, Tyler’s kind of a one and done type of guy.”
Addison considered this. “Okay, so he’s pretty standoffish when it comes to romantic commitment.
Ryan told me Tyler’s parents had a really ugly divorce when he was still little, and Tyler never even mentions his dad.
Speaking as a person with buckets full of childhood trauma, that stuff can really skew how you look at relationships.
I’m sure that probably has something to do with it, but even the worst experiences don’t mean a person can’t be happy.
You’re walking, talking proof of that, and so am I. ”
Chloe didn’t know the details about Tyler’s parents; in fact, she didn’t even know if Ryan knew them.
But given Tyler’s incredibly tight bond with his mother, a painful split would certainly explain a lot.
His cynicism about romantic love. His aversion to all things I-do. His serial one-night stands.
Her heart lurched, but she tacked a smile over her face. “Either way, Tyler and I agreed. Just once. No expectations. No weirdness. Which is just one of the mountains of reasons Ryan can’t find out about this.”
“I’m your ride-or-die,” Addison said, one blond brow quirked.
“Your secret is in the bestie vault, and if it really is a one and done, then that’s where it’ll stay.
But with the way you two have been looking at each other for the past couple of weeks, I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t ask. Is just once what you really want?”
No. The word rose up from Chloe’s chest, certain and strong. But she bit it back just shy of release. “It’s what we decided.”
To her relief, Addison held up her hands. “Okay. But if things change—”
“They won’t,” Chloe promised, capping the words with a firm nod.
She and Tyler were friends. Yes, her lady bits got all a-flutter when he was around, and God yes, when he’d known exactly what she’d needed the other day to get right with her stress and taken her to that fire scene in order to give it to her?
That had made her feel something even stronger than turned on.
But Tyler didn’t do romantic feelings. It was why she’d kissed him in the first place all those months ago.
She needed to put on her big-girl panties, keep her fond memories of Tyler taking off her panties, and carry on.
Tonight wasn’t for anything other than celebrating.
So, she smiled and said, “Now come on. We’ve got a party to go get ready for, and those donuts aren’t going to eat themselves.”
Tyler was having far more fun than he should at a party designed specifically to celebrate impending nuptials.
But the Blue Barn really had turned out to be the perfect venue for the wedding party, all their friends, and Ryan’s family to gather.
The backyard barbecue theme had made the atmosphere casual and relaxed, and the menu had been spot-on for a bunch of hungry first responders.
The paper lanterns, pains in the ass that they’d been to string up, cast a colorful glow over the crowd of people milling through the dining room and spilling out over the wraparound porch as they enjoyed drinks and dessert and each other’s company.
Laughter flowed as easily as the craft beer flights, house-made lemonade, sparkling cider, and champagne.
Everyone Tyler could see was relaxed and happy, smiling and talking in the perfectly crafted conversation spaces throughout the dining room.
Even the tiny babies in attendance were peacefully happy, both currently tucked in the crook of each of Hawk’s giant, tattooed arms while their parents, Isabella, Kellan, Carmen, and Hollister, all took advantage of the opportunity to eat and catch up.
Maxwell, Frankie, and Garza stood nearby, talking with Ryan and Addison, everyone’s faces lit up with smiles and their plates loaded down with donuts from the dessert bar.
Tyler’s former squad-mate and the newest member of Remington’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, Dallas Garrity, was by the fireplace, chatting with de Costa and Faurier, and he smiled as he took in the group of first responders he’d put his life on the line with for more than half a decade.
The ones who’d risked their lives for him right back.
This was his family. No matter whose DNA he carried. Martin Abernathy was just a name. A bad, bitter memory.