Night Is Darkest (8 page)

Well, he wouldn’t be replacing it anytime soon.

He shrugged the duffle onto the entryway carpet before making a quick round of the first floor to confirm the backdoor and windows remained secure. No lights shone downstairs, though Rob’s big-ass TV murmured on low, and nothing seemed out of place. The quiet must have bothered her.

How could he have left her in isolation for three entire days? The time he’d spent hunkered down, freezing his man-berries off in the most uncomfortable car on earth across the street had seemed like some bizarre penance for what he’d done. If he’d still been her friend, or her lover, he could have manned his post from the cozy house. Instead, he’d destroyed both relationships with one fell swoop and he feared Lacey had suffered for his foolishness.

He had to convince her to take him back. How could he do that without explaining why he’d left in the first place and how everything was different now? He wouldn’t blame her if she told him to go straight to hell, do not pass go. When had his life gotten so fucked up?

A nightlight emitted a warm glow from the bathroom that adjoined both Rob and Lacey’s rooms. She’d left the door ajar so that a golden beam spilled from the crack across her four-poster bed. His heart skipped a beat when he caught sight of the bruised circles staining the porcelain skin under her eyes. At times like this, he understood why Mason called her doll.

Tyler didn’t intend to disturb her, but the fragile rasp of her uneven breathing drew him closer until he perched on the lip of the mattress. She lay on her stomach, dressed in sweats and one of Rob’s ratty old police department T-shirts. Her pillow obscured one delicate hand while the other clawed at the flannel sheet beneath her.

As he watched, helpless, she began to tremble. When she whimpered, instincts kicked in. He reached out to stroke her back but the second his palm connected with her spine, she bolted awake. Before he could grab her, she’d scrambled away. Her shoulders slammed into the headboard with enough force to jar the entire bed.

In her shaking, doubled-fisted grasp—aimed point blank at his chest—she clasped Rob’s pistol.

“Holy shit!” He lowered his voice to a croon, hoping to break through the feral zeal in her eyes. “It’s me. Tyler. I’m here. I’m not going to hurt you. Put the gun down.”

“Ty?” Her faint question seemed to echo from a million miles away.

“Yeah, little one. It’s me.” He inched forward until he could deflect the barrel long enough to pry it from her grasp. “You’re safe.”

He set the gun on the nightstand after verifying it hadn’t been loaded. Thank God. For a moment he’d been afraid she intended to harm herself. Why else did someone fall asleep with a gun in their hand?

The fog began to clear from her dazed expression as he crawled across the mattress to gather her into his arms. For several minutes, she allowed him to rock her while he whispered calming nonsense in her ear. The close contact soothed his jangled nerves. He’d missed touching her after just one tiny taste of ambrosia.

Then, she asked, “What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Did something else happen?”

He hated the alarm in her voice and the tension that snapped into her muscles.

“Nothing like that, sweetheart.” He continued to rub her back, more for himself than her at this point. “I came to install your call monitor.”

“Oh.” Her arms popped up, shoving until she dislodged his hold, then she stumbled off the far side of the bed.

Goddamn, he’d been here less than ten minutes and he’d said the wrong thing already.

Lacey bolted in an attempt to escape to the bathroom, but her unsteady legs didn’t quite hold her and she stumbled. She would have fallen if he hadn’t rushed to her side to support her. In the dim light her cheeks were so pale they practically glowed.

“When’s the last time you had something to eat, Lace?” As if on cue, her stomach growled.

“Does coffee count?” She grimaced.

“Hell, no. Come on, let’s go downstairs. I’ll fix you up a little dinner and we can talk. There are a few things I need to tell you.” He tucked a stray strand of her glossy walnut hair behind her ear while he hoped she’d give him a chance to make things right.

“I need a minute to freshen up first.” Lacey tried a tentative smile to persuade Tyler to buy her chipper facade but she doubted it fooled him for a second.

“You sure you’re okay? Were you having the same nightmare as the other night?”

Of course I’m not okay, people!
“It was nothing. I’m good now. Go ahead, I’ll be right down.” Before he could argue, she slipped into the bathroom and locked the door.

She stared at herself in the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman looking back. She worked a comb through her tangles, brushed her teeth and then splashed cool water on her face in an unsuccessful attempt to eliminate some of the puffiness. Not that she gave a shit what the jerk in her kitchen thought of her. After all, he’d left her flat when she needed him most only to return on official business.

Yeah, right.

She peeked at the clock. 8 p.m. She estimated she’d slept about five hours. Suddenly, she felt wide awake. What had she been thinking, luxuriating in the security of Tyler’s arms? By now she should know the only person she could count on was herself.

Huffing out a sigh, she trudged down the stairs as a lump of dread settled in her throat when she anticipated their awkward conversation. Halfway there, she heard the microwave beep. Even nuking pushed the limits of Ty’s dreadful culinary abilities. Against her will, a tiny smirk lifted the corners of her mouth as she watched him grab two bowls, some spoons and napkins from around the kitchen as though it were his own. Dark jeans hugged his lean thighs and tight ass. A snug burgundy T-shirt layered over a long sleeve white thermal completed his casual ensemble.

He looked good enough to eat.

“Why am I not surprised?” She wrinkled her nose in an exaggerated sniff. Maybe she could force their interactions back into friendship territory. “Smells like world renowned Chef Boyardee. Aren’t we a little too old for this stuff?”

The radiant grin he flashed in her direction threw her off balance as her stomach flip-flopped. And not because of the aroma of their supper. Ty slid a stool out from beneath the butcher-block island then patted the cushion. “Hop up. You’re never too old for Spaghetti-O’s. Certainly not at twenty-three. Besides, why mess with perfection?”

They settled into a companionable silence filled only with the soft clinking of their spoons and her reminiscence. The taste of their favorite teenaged meal comforted her.

“I didn’t realize we had these in the pantry. The can was probably ten years old at least.”

“I brought them with me, little one.”

His thoughtfulness astounded her though it shouldn’t have been surprising. Tyler had always possessed an intrinsic empathy that made him the natural support system of their group.

“Do you remember how we’d fight over who got the most meatballs? I miss the days when that was the most pressing thing on our minds.”

He blanketed her hand with his before giving it a gentle squeeze. “I didn’t count them out like Rob used to but I eyeballed it and it was pretty close.”

Derailing thoughts kept her from returning his levity. Thinking back, she supposed they’d all had their roles. Tyler, the shoulder to cry on. Mason, the protector. Rob, the responsible peacekeeper. And her… Well, she wasn’t quite sure how she fit in, unless it was as the pain in the ass rebellious little sister.

Not exactly a flattering thought.

She pushed the half empty bowl away from her as her appetite disintegrated.

Palms outward, Ty raised his hands to shoulder height. “Hey, come on. I only stole a couple extra out of your dish. I swear.”

The wounded puppy dog look he shot from under his long ebony lashes penetrated her gloom.

“No worries. Here, take the rest.” She noticed for the first time that his bowl had been scraped clean.

Uncharacteristic lines etched his brow. “Are you sure you’re finished? You didn’t eat very much.”

“Please, stop worrying.” Lacey reached out to swipe a dot of sauce from the corner of his mouth but he caught her wrist and licked the dab from her finger before she could evade him.

Her eyelids fluttered as she battled the rush of excitement incited by the swipe of his tongue over the sensitive pad of her finger. He had flown right past the friendship barrier she struggled to reconstruct. Mason had warned them sleeping together would put a kink in their lifelong relationship but she didn’t know how to fix things now.

“I can’t help but worry. Don’t you know how much I care about you?” Somehow, he’d managed to tug her closer until his whisper tickled the fly-away hairs at her temple.

“You don’t have to do this, Ty.” She attempted to shake him off but he wouldn’t budge. “What we did… We can forget it ever happened.”

“I’ll never forget.”

“Don’t sound so irritated. I thought that’s what you’d want after you skipped out.”

“No, this is what I want…”

Before she could object, he covered her tense mouth with his then teased the seam of her lips until she surrendered. The steamy kiss obliterated her rational thoughts of restoring their platonic status. They made out in the middle of the kitchen like horny teenagers. When he boosted her to the counter and situated his trim hips between her thighs, one of their bowls skittered off the platform. It shattered on the tiles below.

The clatter whisked her back to reality. With a shake of her head she braced herself on stiff arms behind her, creating a chasm between their heaving chests. What would she do when he changed his mind again? Mason had been right. She couldn’t afford to lose him, too. “I’m sorry, Ty. This isn’t going to work.”

“Wait. Just give me a second here.” He swiped his knuckles across his reddened lips then shook his head as though to clear his thoughts. “I didn’t mean for this to happen like this. I know I fucked everything up, Lacey. It was your first time. I should have stayed…”

“It’s not that.” She interrupted before he could say something he didn’t mean, though it surprised her to hear anything over the pounding of her heart. “I understand sex is different things to different people. You gave me what I needed. I had no right to expect more. But I can’t do it again knowing that come morning you’ll be on your way. I’m not cut out for casual encounters.”

“I’m not going anywhere this time, little one.” He leaned forward to rest his forehead on hers. “If you’ll have me…”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. I value your friendship too much to risk it for a few minutes of pleasure.”

“Minutes?”

A chuckle bubbled inside her at his typical wounded male pride. “You know what I mean.”

“Now you sound like Mason.” He grumbled beneath his breath before turning serious. “Things have changed, Lacey.”

“In the past seventy-two hours?” Her incredulousness rang through the question.

“Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate but his eyes shifted away for a moment. “I can’t give you the details but…yeah. Everything is different now.”

“I want to believe you.” A zing of discomfort made her realize she bit her lip as she considered her options. “But what about all the other times? I’ve practically thrown myself at both you and Mason before. You’ve always turned away.”

She thought she disguised the trembling of her voice quite well but he noticed anyway.

“Ah, shit. I’m so sorry for hurting you. That’s not what I intended. You have no idea how painful it was to let you go, to turn you down when I wanted to devour you. Rob and Mason convinced me you weren’t ready but I think I’ve been screwing things up for a while now. Give me one more chance, Lace. It’s more than I deserve but I swear I won’t disappoint you. I’m in this for the long haul.”

Was he really saying these things straight from her dreams? She had only one option.

“Let’s take things one step at a time.” She smoothed his brow. “I’m not asking for forever. I’m just saying we give it a try and see what happens. Can you commit to that?”

“Hell, yes. You’re amazing.” He surrounded her in a tight embrace while he pressed light kisses to her face and neck. “You know that, right?”

“Of course.” She beamed up at him.

A laugh burst from his chest, lifting her heart. “And incorrigible.”

His hand swiped her wrists from the counter, dropping her flat as he pinned them above her head. In the process, her bowl shot out from beneath her, spilling the contents on the counter. Unconcerned, Tyler proceeded to tickle her.

Her legendary sensitivity made her a giant target for this kind of torture. She writhed on the cool surface, trying for some purchase to avoid his hands. Each squirm and thrash ground her body against his. She laughed through the sensual torment, feeling free. She didn’t have to hide the way he turned her on with his intimate teasing for once. For the first time in three days she felt at ease.

When his fingers hit the vulnerable spot on her ribs, she shrieked, “Mercy! Mercy!”

“Hmmm… This has some possibilities.” Tingles ran up her spine as he towered over her, wicked intent gleaming in his bright green gaze. “What will you give me to stop?”