Nevvie laughed, then moaned in pain and laughed some more. “Go, before I pull a stitch.”
The more she thought about it, the more she seethed. Yes, she was mad about the file she found, but it didn’t cancel out how the boys had treated her, how they spoiled her rotten, how they practically waited on her hand and foot.
How they obviously loved her.
She closed her eyes. How could she have been so stupid? Why didn’t she just sit down and talk to them?
Okay, scream at them.
She wouldn’t make a mistake like that again. She had a second chance to love them, and she damn sure wasn’t giving them up.
Bob returned an hour later, smiling. “Want the short version, which might not make you laugh, or the long version, guaranteed to be a stitch-ripper?”
“Go with the safe one.”
“Ms. Park will no longer be a problem. She was escorted off the grounds without the ability to ‘accidentally’ take any paperwork. Hopefully she didn’t already get anything she can leak to the media.”
“How are they, Bob? Honestly?” She’d sensed the tension between her boys, especially from Thomas, but they tried to hide it.
“How much have they told you?”
“I can only imagine there’s a lot of publicity.” She hadn’t watched the news, not wanting to know.
“Well, you should see this before it goes out. You’ll need hip waders once it hits the wires.” He pulled a paper from his briefcase and handed it to her. “Tyler’s orders.”
She read the press release, her blood boiling. “Are you shitting me? You are not releasing this to the media. No freaking way.”
“That’s between you and Tyler.”
“Give me your cell phone.” They’d already moved her phone and she didn’t want to hunt for it.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to use cell phones in here.”
She snapped her fingers and he handed it over. She dialed Tyler’s cell. He answered, and Nevvie gritted her teeth to control her voice.
“One word, Tyler. Where are you?”
“Nevvie? Is that you? I—”
“I said one word. Where. Are. You?”
There was a brief moment of stunned silence. “Home,” he whispered.
“Where’s Thomas? One word, Tyler.”
“Store.”
“Get your fucking ass in your car and be here in fifteen minutes. Alone. Do not tell Thomas you’re coming.” She hung up. “Thank you.”
He took his phone back. “Damn, girl. I’d love to see you when you’re really pissed and at full strength. Should I go?”
“No, I might need your help.” Pissed didn’t begin to describe how she felt. Mad at herself for blowing up and walking out on the boys, upset that Alex tracked her because of her childish behavior, the annoying bitch from admin.
Now this.
Fourteen minutes later, Tyler hustled into the SICU while trying to catch his breath. Nevvie hadn’t expected him to make it in fifteen minutes, and the fact that he did touched her through her anger. He must have been in his car seconds after she hung up—and blown a few red lights—to get there.
Tyler paled when he saw Bob. She pointed to an empty chair.
“Sit.”
He did.
She recognized Tyler’s sick look and immediately softened her tone. “No, honey, I’m not leaving you. Calm down.”
Tyler slumped and covered his face with his hands. She looked at Bob. “Wait outside, please.”
She called Tyler to her. He rested his head on her shoulder while she stroked his hair.
“Tyler, I love you. I’m not leaving you. I called Bob for help with a nosy administrator.”
“Nancy Park?”
“You’ve dealt with the bitch?”
“She’s trouble.”
“Not anymore. Bob took care of her.” She forced him to look at her. The grief in his beautiful blue eyes broke her heart. “Tyler, you can’t send out that press release.”
“I have to. To take attention off you and Thomas.”
“I didn’t ask you to take attention off me.”
“I don’t want you embarrassed.”
“I refuse to let you put out a public statement saying I’m Thomas’ fiancée. Did he sign off on this?”
“When he did the paperwork he told them you were his fiancée, but he doesn’t know about the press release.”
“Don’t you think you should have asked us?”
“He hates me.”
“No he doesn’t.”
Tyler dropped his head to the bed and she could barely hear his tortured whisper. “Nevvie, he does. He won’t speak to me, has barely spoken to me since this happened. He blames me and he’s right. It’s my fault. If we’d done things his way, none of this would have happened. This way at least people will think you two are normal and I’m the weirdo. You were right, I’m a manipulative arsehole.”
She kissed him again. This was the first time she’d been alone with him since the attack. “But you’re my weirdo manipulative asshole, and I love you” His eyes brimmed with tears. She touched his forehead, which had nearly healed. “Alex really nailed you, didn’t he? Are you okay?”
Tyler nodded and kissed her hand, pressing it against his cheek.
She shifted in bed so she could maintain eye contact with him. “Tyler, you are not putting out that press release. If you do, I will call the Trib and the Times and let them have a full interview with me, including how my wonderful master fucked me with a Popsicle in the backyard. Then the secret will be out and everyone can relax.”
“You wouldn’t?” he whispered, shocked.
“Try me. I’ve had a lot of time to get my head on straight in here.”
He studied her for a long moment. “I think you would.”
“Now you’re catching on. Do I go around randomly blabbing about us? Of course not. In this case I’ll make an exception. Release a statement along the lines of, ‘Ms. Barton is a member of our household, and as the victim of a violent crime, she asks that her privacy be respected.’ Add something about not wanting to say anything because of the criminal investigation.”
“That will cause more questions.”
“Let them ask. Do you care?” He shook his head. “Neither do I. If someone wanted a confirmation I wouldn’t hesitate to admit that I live with two men I love very much.” She stroked his cheek. “I am not Tom’s fiancée. I belong to both of you.”
He nodded.
“Call Bob in.”
He did, updating him. The attorney nodded. “I’ll call Paterno and draw it up.”
When they were alone again, Tyler kissed her. “Why didn’t you call me to handle Ms. Park?”
“You mean handle it like you were going to marry me off to Thomas without my knowledge?”
“Sorry, sweet. I was trying to do what I thought best.”
“Next time, ask.” She softened her tone. “You are neither responsible for all the troubles in the world, nor are you supposed to fix them all, even though you insist on trying. Bob’s my attorney, too. I’m capable of calling him when I need something. There are lots of things I need you for, but you’re not a lawyer. I need you as my husband.”
“Thomas doesn’t want me around.”
“Let me handle our southern fried stud muffin.”
Tyler harshly laughed, then cried against her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nevvie. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Ty. When I get out of here you can soothe your guilt by being at my beck and call.” He laughed again, sniffling.
“I’ve always been at your beck and call, sweetheart. From the first day I met you.”
She touched his cheek. “I know. I’m sorry I was too stupid to see it before. Go home and come back later with Thomas. Don’t tell him you came here alone, he’ll think you’re trying to horn him out. We’ll fix this, Tyler. It’ll be okay, I promise. Give me a kiss and go home, sweetie.”
He did, and when he left she hit her
morphine button and closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to abate.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Nevvie spent eight days in ICU before being moved to a private room. Tyler admitted to the midnight-to-six shift agreement. Rather than fighting Thomas, she made sure when Tyler was there that he climbed in bed with her, able to at least cuddle with him.
Thomas surprised her with his intense brooding and determination. He took control of everything, hovering worse than Tyler on a bad day. She knew part of that was his guilt and anger over what happened, and part was his anger at Ty and his desire to prove he was capable of taking care of her.
She needed to thaw his stony frost. “Why isn’t Tyler coming during the day, Thomas?” She knew, of course. She’d made Tyler fess up.
Thomas looked away. “He’s taking care of stuff. He’s better at that.”
Nevvie knew Thomas had quickly settled into an angry mindset, had grown way too comfortable there. She had to shake him out of it before it was too late.
“Can’t you take care of stuff?”
He still wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t want reporters seeing him here and causing you more grief.”
“Reporters? Oh, goody!” She climbed out of bed, surprising him. She shuffled to the window, pulled the blinds back, and started to lift her gown.
Shocked, he grabbed her hands. “What the hell are you doing?”
She grinned. “Might as well give them a show, right?”
He stared at her like she’d lost her mind. She dropped the act, holding his gaze. “Thomas,” she said softly, “you two need to stop making decisions for me about my comfort level with our situation.”
He studied the floor. “I don’t want people bothering you, Nevvie.”
She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “I love both of you. Somehow we need to figure out how to get back to what we had.”
“It’s all his fault.”
“Shh.” She put a finger on his lips. “We are a family, the three of us. Suck it up and deal with it, do whatever you need to do to get to that point. Quit treating me like I need to be protected from the harsh, cruel world. I’d rather deal with it head-on.”
She stepped closer and put her arms around his neck. “I am the wife of Thomas Kinsey, a well-respected architect. I am also the wife of Tyler Paulson, a bestselling author. I am proud to be your wife, even if not legally recognized as such by the state of Florida. I love both of you, and I’m willing to deal with public opinion if both of you are by my side. Got it?”
“It’s not easy for me to pretend it didn’t happen. If he hadn’t talked me into this hare-brained scheme—”
“I’m not asking you to pretend anything. I’m asking for you to deal with it, with us as a family, not hold it in and let it ruin what we’ve got.”
“I can’t promise you that right now, Nevvie.”
She held his arm as he helped her back to bed. “Then you think on it and tell me what needs to happen to get you to that place. It’s what I want.” She settled against the pillows and played dirty. Dropping her voice to a sultry whisper, she asked, “Am I still your little slave?”
He nodded, his eyes wide with surprise.
“Master promised anything I wanted, didn’t he?”
He nodded again.
She hardened her voice. “Then you figure it out so we can make it happen.”
* * * *
The doctors discharged Nevvie fourteen days after the attack. Thomas’ chill toward Tyler still hadn’t thawed. Thomas protectively scooped her from the car and carried her inside, making Tyler open the door and carry her things. Then he laid her on the couch, where he’d already prepared a comfy nest of pillows. Ty wasn’t the only one who could do things, even if he thought he was.
She could manage on the couch more easily than in their large bed. Frankly, he didn’t want Tyler sharing a bed with her. He’d deal with things once she was stronger, but he refused to fight with Ty while she recovered. It wasn’t good for her, and he wouldn’t be the one to heap more distress on her.
Once she healed, hell would break loose, guaranteed. And if Ty started any shit he wouldn’t hesitate to deck the bastard. For the first time since they’d declared their love for each other nearly thirteen years earlier, he could honestly say he hated Tyler.
She grimaced in pain as she adjusted her position. He hovered, wanting to help.
“I’m okay, Tom,” she said, her voice weak from pain and exhaustion. “I just need to find the right position.” She grimaced. “That sounded bad, didn’t it?”
He smiled, his first real moment of humor since her attack, and gently kissed her lips. “It sounded beautiful, sugar. Just hearing your voice and having you home is fantastic. I’ll get your medicine. You’re due for a pain pill, and your antibiotics. Do you want some soup or hot tea or—”
She squeezed his hand. “I want you to calm down. I’m okay. I’m not dying.”
His vision doubled, tripled, and his knees buckled as he dropped to the floor next to her. His voice a hoarse whisper, he held her hand to his cheek, kissing and nuzzling it.
“Baby girl, I thought you were. I thought I’d lost you.” He buried his head against her and sobbed, finally releasing his pent-up emotion.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, bending her head to his, whispering to him, trying to soothe him. He’d been so strong, so solid this whole time. She’d wondered how he was dealing. Here was her answer: he hadn’t dealt with it at all. Normally he would lean on Tyler, but without that he’d simply pushed it back and focused on her.
* * * *
Wracked with guilt and self-loathing, Tyler watched from the kitchen. Thomas was absolutely right. This was his fault. How their sweet Nevvie could forgive him was beyond comprehension. And Thomas also paying for his stupidity.
Tyler retreated to their bedroom and shut the door, leaving them alone for the rest of the day.
Thomas didn’t come to bed. Tyler walked to the kitchen around midnight to get a drink and saw Nevvie in the living room, caught a glint of her eye from the flickering TV screen as she watched. Thomas wasn’t there. He must have gone to her old room. He walked to the doorway and watched her, hating himself, loving her, loving Thomas, and his heart breaking because he felt that love slipping through his fingers. He knew he had no one to blame except his own stupid self.
She sensed his presence. “Hey, Ty.” She lifted her hand and he forced his feet across the living room to her side. He sank to the floor next to the couch, taking her hand.
“How do you feel, sweetheart? Can I get you anything?”
She brushed the hair from his forehead. “I want my family back. I want the two of you to kiss and make up.”
He choked back his sob. “How can you forgive me?”
“Because I love you. Yes, I was pissed, but I’ve had a lot of time to think. About how you guys treated me from day one. Then that stupid bitch tried to convince me I was ‘mentally abused.’ I thought, why was I standing up for you if I was so pissed at you?”
She stroked his cheek. “From the beginning you guys took care of me, even when I worked for you. You always tried to make things perfect. When you found out what kind of coffee I loved, you always made it. My birthday breakfast was perfect, you made my favorite foods. You used to wear shorts on Thursdays until I mentioned one day when you’d dressed up how nice you looked, then you dressed like that every Thursday. How long did it take you to find the necklace?”
He looked away, unable to meet her intense gaze. “I pinched the magazine from the recycling bin after you left that afternoon. It took me a month to find one as close to it as I could.”
“See? That’s you. People who don’t know you, they think you’re a control freak. I’ll admit I did, too, at first. But I realized from the date on the file, you planned the night of the party for weeks. That’s right, isn’t it?”
He nodded, still unable to look at her. She gently tipped his chin so she could see his eyes.
He cried, tears streaming down his face, breaking her heart.
“Ty,” she whispered, “I was stupid to run away like I did. I should have locked myself in our room and calmed down and then had it out with you instead of storming off, but I got mad and scared. When I had time to put it all together I realized you spent weeks planning that night. At first I thought it was because you only wanted to get in my pants. Then I realized it was because you wanted it to be perfect. The script stopped at leaving the party. You spent all that time and effort for me. Either of you could have made love to me the week before, and you didn’t, you waited. Okay, so Tommy was interrupted, but he could have tried again and didn’t.”
He nodded, beyond words, his heart shattered, not daring to hope for a miracle.
She tried to dry his tears. “I love you, Tyler. I don’t love you because you’ve forced me to love you, or because of any sex games we play. I know you’d rather die than hurt me. You would die for me. Both of you would. I know you turn yourself inside out to make things perfect for others, you think of everyone before yourself. People who don’t know you don’t see it like that. Now, I do. You do it because you’re terrified of people not liking or wanting you. I don’t even think Thomas realizes that.”
He cried, inconsolable. He dropped his head to the sofa next to her while she whispered to him, her hand in his hair, her head touching his, trying to calm him.
“I’m so sorry, Nevvie. I wish Alex had attacked me. I wish I could take your pain away.”
She forced him to look at her. “Tyler,” she said, her voice firm and unwavering. “Stop. If I hadn’t been attacked I might have left and still be pissed at you. I might never have seen the truth about you. I might never have known. I might have lost you both forever.” She watched him and waited until his eyes finally settled on hers. “How long has it been since you spoke to your father?”
He shuddered. “Since I was seventeen.”
“Don’t you think it’s time you stop trying to make your parents love you by taking care of everyone else?”
He froze, closed his eyes and sobbed, the sound breaking her heart. She slowly rolled to her side, scooted to the back of the couch, and patted the cushion next to her. He carefully curled up with her and rested his head on her chest while she held him. He cried himself to sleep in her arms as she whispered to him, trying to soothe his long-wounded soul.
Love Slave for Two Collection [Box Set 7] Page 51