Shattered Valor (12 page)

“There are no ghosts there, honey. Just bad memories. With the noise and activity of all of us there, the old place won’t be like it was. I think it’s good for Blade that we do this.”

“And for you?”

“As long as you and Zavi are with me, I’ll be fine.”

She caught his face in her hands and looked into his eyes. “I love you, Rocco.”

He smiled and backed her toward the bed. When her knees hit the mattress, he leaned over her, forcing her down on it. “How much do you love me?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Eden didn’t hear from Ty. Not the first night, or the second, or any of the days that followed. Gradually, her life got back to normal as she resumed her work at the dog-training center. She longed to tell her boss and co-workers about the incredible experience she’d had working Tank, but even that outlet was closed to her with the nondisclosure she’d signed.

She kept herself busy, working long hours, hoping she’d be too tired to think about Ty in the quiet night hours when she was alone.

That week, they had prepped several dogs for delivery to the center’s clients. It was an exciting time for Eden and the other trainers, a student graduation of sorts. The center’s owner preferred selecting young dogs from rescue shelters rather than raising puppies for the work. It was a philosophy Eden appreciated. Some dogs didn’t make the cut for the program. Those that didn’t still received advanced obedience training before being moved into the center’s adoption program. All of them always found homes in a few weeks of becoming available.

Eden had helped select the new group of dogs. Next week, she and her fellow trainers would be starting over at square one with all new furry pupils.

There was a knock on her door. The pizza she’d ordered had arrived. She looked through the peephole. It was Ty—not her pizza! He was here! She jumped back, in fear or excitement, she couldn’t tell. Her heart slammed into gear as she checked herself over. She wore shorts she’d cut from an old pair of sweats and a baggy tee. She’d just showered. Her hair was still damp. She had no makeup on, but then she never wore makeup. She wanted to run to the bathroom to check her looks, but that was stupid. She was what she was. Ty could take it or leave it.

She opened the door.

He leaned against the doorjamb and smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She stepped back and opened the door for him to step inside. “Is this a social call? Or are you here to check up on me?”

“Both.”

“I just ordered a pizza. Want to have dinner?”

“Sure.”

“It’s an all meat, extra cheese, onion, and black olive pizza.”

He laughed. “On a health kick, huh?”

She bit her lip as she looked at him. “If you want something else, I could change the order.”

He shook his head. “I would have ordered what you ordered.”

“Would you like an ice tea?”

“Got a beer?”

“No.”

“Ice tea’ll be great, then.”

She went into the kitchen. Her hands were shaking as she poured the drinks. “Sugar?” she asked.

“No.” He’d followed her into the narrow galley kitchen. She handed him his glass.

“So, why are you here—really?”

He shrugged. “I missed you.”

“Ty—”

“And, I was worried about you.”

“Why?”

His tawny brows lifted. “After what happened last week? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You didn’t call me.”

“I didn’t want to call. I didn’t want to come here.” He moved a step closer to her. “I wanted to leave you to your life.”

Eden was having a hard time thinking. Ty was here, in her kitchen, in her space, looking at her with those stormy-gray eyes of his. Her nerves made her lips feel dry. She moistened them. He didn’t miss that nervous flick of her tongue. He reached out to touch her neck, watching as his fingers moved over her skin.

“Why didn’t you, then?” she asked. “Why didn’t you stay away?”

“I couldn’t.” His gaze lifted to her eyes. “Eden, come with me back to the house. Just for the weekend. I’ll have you back here Sunday night.”

She gripped his wrist and nuzzled her face against his palm. “Ty. It doesn’t make sense for us to start something now.”

“We don’t have to start anything. Just knowing you’re in the house will ease my mind.”

She looked at him, wondering if he’d truly been worried about her. There were shadows under his eyes, a tension in the taut lines of his face. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. There’s been no trouble here, no weird happenings. I think the WKB has forgotten about me. I don’t want to stir things up again.”

He moved a bit closer, which was nice. She wanted him close to her. Really close. “How are Sherri and Trudy?”

“They got home fine. They haven’t gone back to work yet. Their families were terribly upset about what happened.”

“That’s good. I’m not sure anyone can ever really get over something like that, but I’m glad they’re with family.” He cupped her face with both hands. “Eden, my asking you up for the weekend has nothing to do with the WKB. I want you there for me.”

“That’s a really bad idea.” She couldn’t believe she was considering it.

He nodded. “Maybe it is. Maybe it’s no worse than eating dessert before dinner or walking in the rain. Please come up.”

“Ty—”

“Go pack a bag while we wait for the pizza.”

“I’ll be back in time for work Monday, won’t I?”

He nodded. “I’ll bring you back Sunday night. Will you come?”

“Yes.” She went down the hall and grabbed the things she would need, shoving them into a small duffel bag. She packed another for Tank with his bowls, leashes, food, and treats.

Ty watched for the delivery guy. When the doorbell rang, he forced Eden to wait down the hall. He checked the peephole, then opened the door. He wasn’t wearing his jacket, so his big pistol, in its shoulder harness, was plainly visible. He paid the guy in cash and took the pizza, then closed and locked the door.

Eden brought plates, a pizza cutter, paper towels, and silverware from the kitchen. “Table or couch?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “This your place. Do what’s comfortable.”

“Couch. I record the spooky shows during the week and Tank and I watch them on Friday nights, commercial free.”

He set the pizza down on her coffee table. “So this is your Friday routine? Pizza with Tank and ghost TV? No hot dates with sexy guys?”

She served him a couple of slices. “And miss my shows?”

He looked at her, his gaze pinning her to the truth. “Are you seeing anyone, Eden?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She took a couple of slices for herself, then sat on the far end of couch, leaving plenty of room between them. “I don’t know. Most nights I’m exhausted from work. Sometimes I meet up with friends at a local bar. I’ve kind of given up on the manhunt.”

“Why?” he persisted.

She shrugged. “I don’t really get along with men socially. We work together great. They make great friends, I just think I’m too alpha to date.”

The look he gave her struck fire to a flame that had long been dormant inside her. “I don’t want to be your friend, Eden.”

“It’s not smart for us to get involved, remember?”

“Smart has nothing to do with it.”

Was he saying what she thought he was saying? “I’m not good in bed,” she blurted. The handful of times she’d been intimate were not memorable. Since her experiences had been with different guys, and she was the only common denominator, she assumed she was the weak link.

He smiled slowly, his eyes watching her mouth. “That’s okay.” He took another piece of pizza. “Maybe you just never found the right lover.”

Unsure how to respond to that, she switched her focus to her pizza, eating without talking. She pretended an interest in the recorded show playing on TV. When he was finished, she got up to clear their dishes. As she reached for his plate, Ty grabbed her forearm.

“What happened?” he asked, frowning at her scraped elbow.

“I skinned it when one of the new dogs at the center jumped on me and pushed me against some concrete stairs. It was an accident.” He still held her arm and seemed caught in some internal debate. “Want to kiss it and make it better?” she teased.

He looked horrified. “That would hurt.”

“It’s a boo-boo kiss. They don’t hurt. What, did you grow up in a bubble? Never allowed to play so that you’d never hurt yourself?”

“It wasn’t a bubble.”

She studied him. “You don’t know what a boo-boo kiss is, do you?”

He heaved an aggravated sigh.

“It goes like this.” She sat next to him, then pushed his sleeve up, exposing some of the fading scrapes he’d gotten climbing out of the snake pit. She kissed an area of undamaged skin next to a cut. “See? Doesn’t that feel better? When you kiss near the injury, you make a wish that it goes away. It helps it heal faster.”

He made a face. “That’s a load of crap. We just slap some duct tape on cuts and call it good.” He shook his head. “Can you see me telling the guys we have to kiss each other’s injuries?” He grinned at her.

“Well, no wonder it takes so long for you to heal.” She held up her elbow. “You try it. I can’t kiss my own elbow. And it doesn’t work when you do it for yourself, anyway.” She bit her lower lip, wondering if he would or if he would just brush it off.

He took hold of her forearm again, cradling her elbow in his big palm. He kissed near her scrape, pressing his lips to her skin, watching her reaction as he did so. Something quickened inside of her, but it wasn’t her healing.

“No. Not like that. It’s not sexual. You have to close your eyes and intend for the injury to heal. It’s like making a wish.”

He tried again, this time with his eyes shut. His mouth paused against her arm. The breath from his nose was hot on her skin. Shivers scattered up her arm and down her back. She sucked in a breath of air. “Much better,” she said, her voice a mere whisper.

He tapped the corner of his mouth. “It hurts here.”

She smiled and leaned up to kiss where he pointed.

Ty shut his eyes. God help him, he was losing his heart to Eden, and so goddamned fast. The last week apart had been hell. Watching over her, being near her, staying invisible made him feel as insubstantial as a ghost.

Her lips were soft, her mouth closed. He breathed in the scent of her, fresh like crisp morning air and sunshine. He had the impression that had he lived locked in his childhood home his entire life, her scent, her eyes, her smile would tell him everything he needed to know about what the outdoors was like.

He moved slightly this way and that, pressing his mouth against the middle of hers, then by one corner, then the other. She released a breath from her nose, pushing air over his mouth, raising gooseflesh on his arms, tingling the nerves of his skin, heating his groin.

He could feel himself hardening, tightening. His body’s reaction to Eden was painfully intense, like frozen fingers dipped into warm water. He pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were dilated, her lips parted. She wanted what he wanted.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t be with her. It was better, really, to just be near her than to have the look in her eyes turn to disgust, as it would when she learned the truth of him.

“So, do you watch the commercials, too? Or do you fast forward through them?” he asked her, returning to the safe subject of her Friday night entertainment.

She blinked. Her lips were still so close to his. “Um. What?”

“Your shows. What’s the point of recording them if you watch the commercials, too?”

“Oh. Right.” She moved away. He felt the distance between them acutely. It hurt, in fact. She picked up the remote and pressed a button to fast forward.

Ty turned to face the TV, though all of his senses were trained on Eden. He set his hands on his thighs. His heart was pounding in his ears. He couldn’t quite calm his breathing. He looked at the door, wondering if she’d think him an ass if he bolted out of her apartment. The part of him that wanted to be safe, the part that wanted to never feel any pain, urged him to run.

He glanced at her, watched her profile. He’d refused, until now, to have sex with anyone he didn’t have to pay. It was better that way. Less complicated. Each party in the transaction got what was expected.

She was the first he’d ever cared to please. The only one he’d ever wanted for himself. She looked at him and smiled. Waves of shock and yearning rolled through him.

“You’re not watching the show,” she commented. “Would you rather watch the commercials?”

He frowned. She was making fun of him. Goddamn. He was so fucking close to breaking and she was joking with him?

She reached over to set her hand on top of his. His fingers were digging into his leg with a white knuckle grip. It hurt his recovering wound, but he welcomed the discomfort.

“Why did you stop? Before. Did you not want to kiss me?” she asked.

“No.” His eyes widened as he shook his head. She thought he stopped because of her? “I stopped because I want you too much. I’ll hurt you.”