“Not necessary. You can go wait in the car.” Sam pointed to the door.
“I deserve a raise,” Kendrick mumbled as he left.
Michelle looked at Sam’s hand, which had a huge engagement ring on it. “Holy cow! Congratulations!” She hugged her.
“Thank you.” Sam touched the ring.
“Tell me everything. When did J.J. propose?”
“Last night. He was so adorable. He must have rambled on for ten minutes before he got the words out.”
“J.J. ramble? I would have paid to see that.” Michelle giggled. “When’s the wedding date?”
“I was thinking a few months after Tate and Isabelle tie the knot. I want them to have their day without the shadow of ours looming over their heads.”
Michelle looked over at Tyler, immobile on the couch. If J.J. of all people could do it, why couldn’t Tyler? “I’m so happy for you. J.J. is a great guy. I knew it would take a special woman to make that handsome man smile again.”
“It does take a special woman to handle a Blake man. You remember that.”
“I will.” Michelle hugged her again. “Thanks, for everything, Sam.”
“No problem. If you need anything just give me a call.”
Michelle thanked her again and walked her out. If Tyler was going to wake in an hour, she wanted to soften the blow with a good meal. She placed the handcuff on his wrist then tied the other one to chain that was affixed to the leg of the couch. She hoped grilled cheese and tomato soup would soften the whole kidnapping thing. Teri-Lyn had told her it was one of his favorite lunches.
Now that he was here and passed out in the next room, it was time for phase two of her plan. If only she had one.
Her cell phone pinged. It was a text message from Nina wishing her good luck. Michelle’s fingers flew over the keys, letting her friend know all was well for the moment. She went into the spacious kitchen and put the finishing touches on the homemade tomato soup she’d prepared earlier. She was pleased with the results, so she fired up her laptop and posted the recipe on her food blog. A half hour later she was ready to grill the assembled sandwiches when the trouble started.
“What the hell!” She heard from the living room.
It was time to come up with a phase two.
* * *
Tyler thought he was in a kinky dream until he tried to get up. A pair of very real handcuffs attached him to a long chain that was connected to the couch. The last thing he remembered, was talking to Sam. He looked around the room to get some sense of where he was. The surroundings were very familiar. A picture of Morgan, Seth and the boys sat on the side table. The décor was more rugged, a faux bearskin rug lay in front of the gray stone fire place. There was a chocolate leather couch and love seat, not practical for everyday wear and tear of three kids. He could see a cluster of evergreen trees out the window and what seemed to be J.J.’s house in the distance. He was at Seth’s house in Colorado.
It was nice to know he was in familiar place, but what the hell was he doing there?
He screamed for a few more minutes, then it all became clear when Michelle, looking ravishing in a pair of snug fitting jeans and a gray cardigan sweater, appeared in the doorway.
“You’re awake.” Michelle nervously tugged at her ponytail. “Would you like something to eat? You must be starving.”
“What the hell is going on? Why I am in Colorado chained to Seth’s couch instead of in New York doing my interview with Sports Now?” He yanked on the chain that was attached to the underside of the couch.
Michelle wiped her palms on her jeans and tried to smile. “About that. The interview has been re-scheduled for next week. In the meantime we get to settle some business, Tyler Blake.”
“Rescheduled? What gives you the right to do that?”
“Well for starters, you kissing that racing tart on national television. And—-”
Tyler moved so quickly Michelle didn’t have time to move from the door frame. Kissing her seemed like a better idea than rehashing that kiss from the groupie. He covered her mouth with his until she finally ran out of words. He’d missed that sassy full, lip-gloss covered mouth that always seemed to taste like bubble gum. He cupped her ass and lifted her up into the air, pressing her against the wide door frame leading from the living room into the dining room and brought her flush against him.
She kissed him back like she missed him too, running her fingers roughly through his hair and tilting his head a little when he thrust his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss. Ten minutes later they came up for air.
“Why didn’t you come to see me race?” he whispered.
“No self-respecting woman accepts last minute invitations.” She pushed him off her and moved out of his reach towards the kitchen. “Lunch will be ready in a few minutes. And I’m still mad at you.”
“Where’s the key to the handcuffs?”.
Michelle lifted up a key she had on a gold chain. “Safe and sound.”
“Can you unchain me?”
“No. The minute I unhook those cuffs you’re out of here. That’s your M.O.”
“How long do you intend to keep me chained up?”
“As long as it takes.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life.”
Chapter Three
Michelle put on her apron and finished preparing lunch. The minute he stood up she knew why that man drove her to distraction. It was that gruff sex appeal that always drew her to him. Those mischievous green eyes that twinkled when he talked to her. Hair that seemed to go everywhere on his head but oddly perfectly in place. The beard that crept up on his face every day by midafternoon even though he shaved every morning. And soft full lips that were made to be sucked on like a delicious piece of taffy. The jeans he wore seemed to be clinging to him for dear life, and coupled with the form-fitting plaid shirt he wore with his favorite pair of cowboy boots was a recipe for disaster.
She’d decided on phase two of her plan. The chain was long enough so he could get to the dining room table and half bathroom so he couldn’t complain too much. But Tyler would have to earn his freedom, and that meant he’d have to be honest with her. She just hoped she liked what he had to say. She heaped the tomato soup into bowls with a dash of cilantro and sliced the grilled cheese. She took everything out to the dining room. Tyler had turned on the television.
“Lunch is ready.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Are you feeling ill?”
“No, I’m upset.”
“Well, I made one of your favorite meals. Tomato soup with grilled cheese. I used Monterey jack cheese and fresh tomatoes, just the way you like it.” She set the tray down. Tyler’s eyes brightened for a moment as he came over and inspected the food. She took that as a good sign.
“If I eat this, will I wake up next month?” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“No! I promise that won’t be happening again.” She held up her hands. “But you have to be hungry. Let’s call a truce. You get something in your stomach and then you can go back to being pissed at me when we’re finished eating.”
“Deal,” he grumbled.
Michelle took a seat next to him, placed a linen napkin in his lap and handed him a bowl of soup. It was hard to gauge his response to the food, but after a few spoonfuls he took half of his grilled cheese and dipped it into the soup. She’d take the inelegant scoffing down of the food over the detailed verbal compliment she secretly wanted.
Tyler let out a loud guttural moan that sounded similar to sounds he made when he climaxed. “This is the best grilled cheese I’ve ever had. It’s simple but fancy.”
“I jazzed it up a bit to accommodate adult taste buds. But the cheese makes a strong statement on its own.”
“It’s just as good as my momma’s, but she puts a smiley face on the sandwich.” He continued to munch.
“My mom used to do that for me when I was a kid too
.” She smiled.
“Oh, Momma did that for me last month when I was home.” He sipped on the fresh brewed raspberry iced tea.
Her cell phone rang. The caller ID displayed the name of the production company that was creating the cooking show.
“Sorry, I have to take this call.” Michelle answered the phone and motioned for him to pass the notepad next to him on the table. “Hello, Nathan. This is Michelle Bradley. Sure, I can have that to you by Thursday. Thanks so much for the opportunity.”
She disconnected the call and scribbled notes furiously. The producer liked her application and wanted her to audition! She needed to email a video of a sample cooking segment from start to finish. He especially liked her wry wit and suggested she go with it. There were at least five dishes that sprang to mind but she needed something with vibrant colors that would pop off the screen. It wasn’t until she felt Tyler pulling her close that she came back to reality.
“You’re leaving the bookstore?” Tyler lifted her chin with his finger.
Was that worry in his voice?
“No.” She reverently shook her head. “I wouldn’t leave Morgan. That was a call about an audition to be an amateur chef on a local cable show.”
“Who’s Nathan?”
“He’s one of the producers of the show.” She waved him off.
“He couldn’t have his secretary notify you?” Tyler narrowed his eyes.
She shrugged. “We hit it off when I submitted my application. He just wanted me to know he’s in my corner.”
“Or maybe he just wants to get you cornered.”
“What are you going to do? Go attack him in his yoga class? I can take care of myself, Tyler Blake. And now that you have a racing career, you won’t have time to go around threatening every man within breathing distance of me.”
“I’ll make time.”
“As if you care. You don’t want me, but you just don’t want anyone else to have me either.”
That shut him up. When he didn’t reply after a few minutes she continued the conversation. “I have three days to make the perfect audition video. So you’re in for a treat. But that also means I need to go out for supplies. You be a good boy until I get back.” Michelle grabbed her purse and the car rental keys on the hall table and scooted out the door. Phase two would have to wait.
“Don’t worry about me!” Tyler yelled after her. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Sure, he’d fantasized about him and Michelle in a bondage fantasy, but this was crazy. He looked around the living room for something to help him out of the cuffs. He checked the chain, but it was screwed directly into the underside of the couch, and it wasn’t budging. He’d pocketed his cell phone on the plane but a quick feel around his body came up empty. Perhaps it was in his leather duffle bag that was near the door. He got up and went towards it, but the chain stopped him a few inches short of reaching the bag. He threw pillows, his belt with a heavy metal buckle, and a boot but couldn’t drag the bag any closer. Finally, he combined the boot and the belt and bingo! He caught the duffle bag by a handle and dragged it into reach.
As soon as he unzipped it, he saw the cell phone and breathed a sigh of relief. Surely, one his brothers would help him out of this mess.
He dialed Tate, who picked up on the third ring.
“Tate!” Tyler yelled.
“Tyler, what do you want?” Tate mumbled.
“Hi, Tyler,” Isabelle called in the background and giggled.
From all the giggling and groaning going on, it was clear he’d interrupted something. But Tate’s libido would have to wait.
“Listen to me, I’ve been abducted.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really. I need you to come help me get out of here, or call the police or something.”
“Abducted by who? Do you know where you are?”
“I’m in Colorado at Seth’s house. Michelle has me handcuffed to a couch.”
Tate howled. “I’d hardly call that an abduction, Ty. I just got back from Nashville and I haven’t seen my woman in five days. Call me back when you’re being held at knife point by a deranged fan who thinks you’ve been singing to them personally since your first album.”
“That happened to you?” Tyler asked.
“I’ll tell you about it another time.” Tate disconnected the call.
Tyler sighed. He’d try Channing. He was the smart, level-headed one. He hit the button.
“Hey, Tyler.”
“Hey, baby brother. I’m in a jam and I need your help.”
“You’re always in a jam, that’s why I went to law school. Now is not a good time. I’m on a date.” Channing said in a low voice.
“You on a date? With Emma?”
“No, not with Emma.”
“You old dog. Who’s the new lady?”
“Cassidy Shaw.”
Tyler let out a big, exaggerated sigh. Channing had had a crush on this girl since the first day of law school. It was almost painful to watch his baby brother’s attempts to help me get next to her.
“That’s not a real date.”
“It’s a work in progress.”
“Well, I have a real problem, here. Michelle kidnapped me.”
“You don’t say? How did she pull that off?”
“I have no idea. I woke up in Seth’s living room at Blake Ridge chained to a couch and she made me lunch.”
“That sounds awful. Spending time in Seth’s nice house with a girl you can’t stop thinking about who’s cooking for you.”
“Bro, I’m chained to the couch!”
“How do I know this isn’t some kinky game of yours gone awry?”
“It’s no game! Michelle kidnapped me. I need someone to get out of here.”
“Cassidy’s coming back. I gotta go.”
“Did you not hear what I said?”
“I heard everything. Morgan said you might be calling and to ignore you. Suck it up you big baby.”
So Morgan knew about it! That means Sam was part of this, too. That was just great.
“I’m going to get you for this, baby brother. Mark my words. The payback for not coming to my aid is going to be epic.”
“Have fun. I gotta go.” Channing hung up.
Tyler lay back on the couch and closed his eyes. This wasn’t going well. Spending time with Michelle was a good thing, especially since he’d been thinking about her so much lately. But being kidnapped and chained up was seriously uncool.
He’d call J.J. Surely he’d put an end to it.
J.J. answered abruptly. “Tyler, I’m on a conference call, so unless you’re dangling off a cliff, it’s going to have to wait.”
The phone disconnected before he could utter a word.
OK, he’d call Seth. His quarterback brother was good at persuading people to do things. He could talk to Morgan and make her tell Michelle to put an end to this nonsense.
Morgan answered. “Hi, Tyler.”
Tyler groaned. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with a co-conspirator around. “Hey, Morgan. Is Seth around?”
“Right here.” Seth’s voice boomed as it became apparent they were on speaker phone.
“Listen—”
“I couldn’t wait until Christmas to give it to them, so I let the boys open the Christmas present you got them a little early. They love their Ty Blake racing kits! They each have a shirt, cap and the model of your car. We even went online and signed up for your racing fan club,” Morgan said.
“Luke’s team is good with putting together things like this. He’ll make sure these decisions are a good fit with your brand,” Seth added.
“That’s great, Seth. Really. But I’m a little tied up at the moment.”
“We can talk about it when you get back from Denver,” Seth replied.
“So you know where I’m at?”
“I told him you needed a few days to unwind from all the excitement,” Morgan interrupted. “And that spending time with Michelle would be good for you.”
“Wait! I need your help. You can make another baby later,” he quipped.
“You are spending time with the woman you’ve been thinking about for nearly a year. I assure you, you don’t need my help.”
“Bye, Tyler.” Morgan snickered.
His name being mentioned on television turned Tyler’s attention to the screen. A recap of the race he’d won was being analyzed and the commentator said he was the new kid on the block making his mark. Words like a ‘skilled’ and ‘good instincts’ floated around the table, and it was thrilling to hear. But what was even better was that no one mentioned his brothers. He was beginning to be judged on his abilities and performance on the track without the glamorous sidebars about being a Blake.
* * *
Michelle returned from the market in a good mood. Tyler figured he’d give her the silent treatment, but that didn’t seem to bother her. She was flitting about the kitchen putting things away and cooking, and she seemed to be avoiding him. Pretty strange to kidnap someone then pretend they weren’t in the room.
A few minutes later, Michelle came into the living room with a tray of hot chocolate and snacks.
“What’s this? Rations for the captive?”
“They’re a peace offering.” She placed the tray down on the coffee table and set a fire in the fireplace.
He couldn’t ignore how warm and inviting she looked sitting on the faux bearskin rug sending text messages in her gray sweater and cream leggings. The glow from the roaring fire made her look even prettier as she sipped on a cup of hot chocolate.
“Updating your conspirators?” He stoked the logs with a poker.
“No, I updated them after dinner. Everyone says hello.”
“I bet they did.”
“They do know you’re not in any actual danger.”
“Oh? You’re not going to go all Misery on me later and crack my ankles like walnuts?”
“You are so dramatic.” She put her phone away.
Slow Burn (The Blake Boys Book 7) Page 4