She’d been playing with the new apple pie recipe for a few weeks now. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and she always enjoyed spending the day with Morgan, Seth and the boys. They were going to decorate the tree tonight and make a gingerbread house. She loved this time of year and loved Morgan’s enthusiasm for the holidays. Seth had a giant scale model freight train installed that transported the boys through the house. Morgan had a hard time getting them out of it when it was time for their baths.
“I think we need to add another teaspoon of cinnamon,” Michelle said.
“OK.” Morgan added another scoop to the bowl. “It smells so good in here. I’m going to take a bite of that pie the minute it comes out of the oven.”
“Well, there’s a cooling period. I’d hate for a burned tongue to stop you from fooling around with Seth. But you deserve first slice for letting me use your kitchen.” Michelle chuckled.
“Any time.” Morgan hugged her. “I’m sorry we have to get together at my house all the time. I promise we can mix it up a bit. Maybe have dinner at the Slap Shot or have a girl’s night at your place sometime.”
Michelle looked away at the mention of Derek’s bar. She’d never told Morgan about Derek’s visits to the store or his dinner invitation. “Let’s see, my dinky apartment covered with rapidly moldering baked goods, or a penthouse with a spacious kitchen, state of the art appliances and two double ovens. I think it’s a no brainer.”
“Your apartment is not dinky. It’s just not conducive to your new hobby. So cook away.”
“Did I ever tell you how happy I am that we’re friends?”
“Well I would think you don’t bake tasty apple pies for just anybody.”
“Nope. I relegate my specialties to my favorite couple.” Michelle poured the pie filling into the dough covered glass pie dish. “By the way, Harold died.”
“Harold? The owner of the flower shop next door to the bookstore?”
Michelle leaned against the counter. “This explains why we haven’t seen him in a month.”
“I just assumed he was in the Hamptons or something. He was loaded. We need to find out where to send flowers.”
“I already did. It felt pretty ironic to send flowers to a florist’s family. But this means his building will be up for sale! We could buy it and expand the bookstore.”
“Our business neighbor just died. Now is not the time to pillage his land.”
“I may not know all the complexities of life, but I do know a dead man doesn’t need a building. Maybe that bigwig commercial real estate guy Shane Bracht can investigate for you.”
“I’m going to miss Harold. He would bring us those expensive Swiss chocolates that cost about a million dollars a pound and the occasional floral arrangement for the front of the store. If nothing else, your taste buds should be in mourning.”
“Damn, I forgot about that. Harold did always call us the daughters he would have wanted if he’d been foolish enough to conceive children. But this could be a good opportunity for Reed Books. Promise me you’ll think about it. We could expand the bookstore without having to open another store in the city,” Michelle said.
“I’ll think about it. So…” Morgan coughed. “Have you heard from Tyler?”
“Since he locked lips on national television with that hussy? I refuse to answer his calls.” Michelle put on oven mitts and slid the pie into the oven.
“Wow.” Morgan stilled. “We never really talked about what happened between you and Tyler the night before my wedding.”
“I didn’t think you wanted to hear that for the umpteenth time, I was an idiot and fell for his charms.” Michelle pretended to read over the next recipe, a fruit tart.
“You’ve been different since that night.”
“We did”—Michelle waggled her eyebrows—”you know. The horizontal hokey pokey.”
“I figured as much. But I was talking about something else.”
“There comes a time in life when you have to stop deluding yourself about fruitless situations and I am at that point.”
“It wasn’t his fault. I’m pretty sure that skank initiated the kiss. Tyler was gracious about it but he wasn’t happy that night.”
Michelle glared at Morgan. “Since when do you stick up for Tyler?”
“I was just pointing out that the kiss was not his idea. He was ambushed on national TV by some woman who’d been following him around for weeks.”
“They probably slept together,” Michelle huffed.
Morgan shook her head. “No, they didn’t.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I can’t say. I promised Seth I wouldn’t meddle.”
Michelle gave her an expectant look.
“Anymore.”
“That’s like asking the sun not to shine. Your voice in my ear whispering the perils of that man is what has kept me from doing stupid things. I’m so over it and him. Tyler Blake can go—”
“Hey, ladies. How’s the baking going?” Seth said loudly as he entered the kitchen with the three boys, who all had tree lights wrapped around them.
“The apple pie is baking. Now we’re on to the fruit tart recipe,” Morgan said.
“Seth, you and the boys make good guinea pigs.” Michelle handed Jake and the twins short bread cookies shaped like candy canes. “Jake, I want your opinion on this when you’re done.”
“OK.” Jake took a big bite.
“So you were saying very nice things about my brother a few seconds ago?” Seth went to the fridge and got juice boxes for the boys.
“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything disparaging about their Uncle Tyler in front of them,” Michelle said.
“By all means, if it makes you feel any better, disparage away.” Seth laughed.
“Sorry boys, Aunt Michelle is in a bad mood.” Michelle handed them another cookie.
“What are we having for dinner?” Seth rubbed his stomach.
“Braised beef ribs for the grownups and spaghetti and meatballs for the junior football players,” she said.
“Let’s get back to sorting the decorations, boys,” Seth said, shepherding Jake, Connor and Colby out of the kitchen.
“They are growing like weeds.” Michelle said.
“And there’s nothing I can do about it.” Morgan went to the sink and rinsed off the vegetables for dinner. “So what are you going to do about your Tyler situation?”
“Sometimes I wish I could just tie him to a chair and force him to answer all of my questions.” Michelle retrieved the beef ribs from the fridge and slammed them down on the counter.
Morgan looked up from dicing the carrots. “Maybe you should.”
“What?”
“Tie him to a chair and make him own up to all his bullshit.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.” Michelle tapped her fingers on the counter.
“Not if it’s done right.” Morgan winked.
Michelle barked out a laugh.”And where would I take him?”
“The Blakes have properties all over. Pick one. You’ll have privacy and no worries about the time. But you’ll need reinforcements.” Morgan took her cell phone out of her back pocket and put it on the counter.
Michelle began scrolling through Morgan’s contacts then stopped in her tracks. What was she doing? Was she actually conspiring to kidnap a grown man so she could coerce him into admitting his feelings—or lack thereof? This sounded very much like a creepy movie of the week. Was she that woman?
“What about your promise to Seth not to meddle?”
“We all know I was doomed to break that promise.” Morgan chuckled.
“Doesn’t this all sound a bit desperate?” Michelle bit her lip.
Morgan folded her arms across her chest. “The only thing desperate about this is going to be Tyler Blake as he figures out a way to save his skin.”
* * *
Tyler was delighted that Sam was going to accompany him to New York for his first big interview in Sports Now maga
zine. As head of Regency Private Security Group, who provided security for Black Enterprises, she had spent years bailing him out of one crazy predicament after another, always followed by the lecture of a lifetime about his wild lifestyle. That all seemed like a thousand years ago. These days she spent most of her time at Blake Enterprises, overseeing a huge overhaul of their cyber division and hadn’t been out on an active detail in a while. Tyler knew that had to be J.J.’s doing, trying to keep her safe.
Tyler cleared his throat. J.J. and Sam were no closer to ending their passionate embrace than they were twenty minutes ago. J.J. proposed last night, breaking their agreement to living together for six months before marriage but Sam had happily accepted.
“You’re kissing the woman like she’s going off to war,” he finally said.
“Shut up, Tyler,” J.J. replied. “She’s traveling with you. Anything is possible.”
“You know, you’re not the first Blake to propose to Sam.” Tyler raised an eyebrow.
J.J. glared at him. “What?”
“I proposed to Sam in Fiji and she turned me down.”
Sam grinned and gave J.J. one last kiss on the cheek. “Actually, Tyler, you were pretty trashed that night and proposed to my partner Kendrick, not me. He was pretty conflicted for a few weeks. He’d never had a handsome rich man ask him to marry him before.”
J.J. erupted in laughter. “Tyler, if my fiancée has so much as a toothache when she gets back, I’m going to wring your neck.”
“I’ll be back before you know it.” Sam gave J.J. a tight squeeze.
Tyler bid his brother goodbye and ascended the steps of the plane. Sam came in a few minutes later and talked briefly with the flight crew. He checked his cell phone one more time to see if Michelle had called or sent a text, but no luck. He put the phone in airplane mode and slipped it back in his pocket. Once everyone was seat belted in, the plane took off smoothly.
He was excited about the interview, his first feature in a major magazine. Learning the ins and outs of the racing circuit from Scott Norwood was easy—it was deciding what direction he wanted to take his career in that was the most taxing. He enjoyed driving fast and perfecting his craft, but the legacy of his family name was always the topic in interviews. When people found out who his brothers were, they suddenly wanted to know his intentions. There were times when being a Blake seemed like a burden to him, the only one of them who didn’t have superior athleticism, musical talent or academic smarts. He was just Tyler, and his Momma told him all the time that being him was all she wanted. Still, when all your brothers were celebrities, there was an underlying pressure to achieve.
Once she finished chatting with her partner Kendrick, Sam gave him a cranberry juice and poured herself ginger ale, then took a seat across from him.
“Thanks, Sam.” Tyler smiled.
“You’re welcome.” She undid the button of her suit jacket and smiled back.
“So you and J.J. are tying the knot ahead of schedule. Doesn’t that put a wrinkle in your agreement?”
“We revised the terms.” Sam tried to suppress a grin. She and J.J. had concocted an elaborate agreement for how she was to keep her security job without interference from her well-meaning, but slightly overbearing, fiancée, who wanted to keep her safely out of the line of fire. Along the way, the agreement had grown to include terms for a wedding and a requisite number of adorable little baby Blakes.
“That’s great. Momma was floating around the house this morning when she heard the news.”
“I’m delighted to hear it. She said she would love to help me plan the wedding. Morgan and Isabelle offered to pitch in too.”
“I know how much my brother loves you and what a difference you’ve made in his life. Hell, all of our lives. Thanks to you I got my big brother back. Momma has this big extravaganza planned for the holidays, and the engagement is going to the icing on the cake.”
Sam sipped on her ginger ale. “I scheduled my vacation that week to make sure there are no emergencies to take me away from the festivities.”
Tyler was silent for a moment. “So tell me. What takes you away from the cyber security project to babysit me in New York? Isn’t this kind of a bullshit detail for you these days?”
“Why wouldn’t I want to escort my future brother-in-law around?” She grinned.
“You remember that time in Mexico?” Tyler waggled his eye brows.
“How can I forget?” Sam laughed. “That was the first time I ever had to jump off a cliff.”
“I told you we would make it but you didn’t believe me.”
“Now, look at you, a respectable citizen with a career.”
“I bet you never thought you’d see the day.” He chuckled.
“On the contrary. I always had faith in you.”
“Admit it. I’m your favorite Blake. You can tell me—I won’t let the boys know.” Tyler winked at her.
She laughed. “I think I’m obligated to say your brother is my favorite since we’re getting married.”
“I couldn’t ask for a better person to take care of his heart.”
“What about your heart?”
The idea of someone playing such a pivotal role in his happiness made him leery. Perhaps it was witnessing Seth’s relationship with Penny crash and burn or the tug of war J.J. played with Eden all those years ago that had soured him on love when he was younger. But times had changed. Seth had been searching for meaning after his Super Bowl win when he met Morgan. Cupid hit his rough-riding, velvety-voiced brother Tate right on the tushy with a love arrow and he fell for Isabelle. J.J. was gearing up to be a confirmed bachelor when fate stepped in and led him to Sam.
What really bothered Tyler the most is that words like cupid and tushy were now in his vocabulary.
He suddenly felt fatigued. His eyelids felt heavy and he couldn’t keep them open.
“I’m sorry, what did you ask me?”He ran a hand over his face.
“What about your heart? Do you ever think about—”
“Settling down?” he huffed.
“No, about opening your heart and letting someone in there.”
“Baby steps, Sam. Baby steps.” Tyler tried to raise his glass but it felt heavy in his hand.
“Don’t let a good thing slip through your fingers. No woman waits forever.”
Sam’s words seemed to drip from her mouth like molasses. Tyler wanted to reply, but the inside of the plane was getting fuzzy. He could see Sam taking the glass out of his hand and smiling, then everything went dark.
* * *
Michelle’s hand was shaking like a leaf when Seth gave her the keys to his house in Colorado. She was nervous as hell, and was on the verge of chickening out until she got a reassuring hug from Morgan at the private airport.
“Just remember your objective, and you’ll be fine. You’ll get there a day ahead, so take it easy and go sightseeing or something. I can’t wait for your report on the house.” Morgan beamed.
“Why haven’t you gone to the house in Colorado?”
“Haven’t had the time. We try to give Teri-Lyn and John Jacob as much face time with the boys as we can, so we’re always in Texas. But I saw pictures, and Seth says it’s really nice. It’s just missing a woman’s touch.”
“Do you think Sam can get Tyler to the house?”
“Absolutely. I hope you get the answers you’re looking for. You deserve nothing but happiness, and if you think Tyler is the key to that, I wish you the best.”
“To tell you the truth, I feel bad putting you in the middle of all this. I just want you to know if this doesn’t work out, I promise it won’t be weird.”
“Please, we thrive on weird. Now go rope yourself a cowboy.” Morgan kissed her on the cheek.
Michelle liked the private plane and Sam had arranged for a security specialist from Regency, her company, to greet her when she touched down. The scenic view from the airport to the house was beautiful and made her wish she had more time to go sightseeing. Aft
er the walk-through of the house, the security rep gave her the rundown of alarm codes and told her the SUV in the garage had been gassed up. She felt better knowing security wouldn’t be too far away in case she needed something. She had a day to set the scene, but it all passed in a whirl because before she knew it, she was pacing the living room, waiting for Sam to arrive with the package.
The “package” was a six-foot-two race car driver who was bound to be severely pissed off once he found out what she’d done. The Blake women, including Teri-Lyn, were all on board for this venture to bring Tyler to a secluded place he couldn’t easily escape. Michelle just hoped she could make her hands stop shaking.
She heard the car pull up and didn’t wait for the doorbell to ring. She opened the door and saw Kendrick, Sam’s partner, carrying Tyler over his shoulder.
Michelle gasped. “Is he OK?”
Kendrick plunked an unconscious Tyler on the sofa.
“He’s fine.” Sam laughed. “I checked his vitals. It was a mild sedative. It should wear off in about an hour.”
“Sam, you seem like you’ve done this before.” Michelle raised an eyebrow.
“This would be my third and hopefully last time with Tyler.”
“Third?”
“The gorgeous ones are always the most trouble.” Sam pinched his cheek. “Tyler has always been wild but essentially harmless in the grand scheme of things.”
“How much trouble?” Michelle gulped.
“Michelle, you’re going to be fine. I had Daniel reschedule his interview with Sports Now magazine for next week.” Sam handed her the keys to the handcuffs. “You remember your objective?”
Michelle nodded. “To torture that little weasel.”
“And,” Sam added, “to find out once and for all where you stand. You care enough to kidnap him, I think you’re half way there.”
“One would think,” Michelle huffed.
Kendrick’s cough made them both look in his direction. “I draw the line at taking his clothes off.”
Slow Burn (The Blake Boys Book 7) Page 3