“I’m sorry. It’s been a crazy day. Did we have plans?”
“Pizza, hanging out. Off the charts sex. Nothing special.”
“Sounds pretty special to me.”
Right now, it sounded like heaven.
“Then it’s a date.” There was a pause. “Hey, is everything okay?”
“Sure. Why do you ask?”
“Your voice sounds a little funny. Tense.”
“I had a long visit with my mother this morning. I guess I’m still a little wound up.”
Boy, talk about the understatement of all understatements. She was wound tighter than a Kansas tornado.
“Uh oh.”
Tyler smiled. Wow, she actually smiled. Talking with Drew was always a good decision.
“Wrong. Uh oh is your mother, not mine. We cleared up some things. Old business that had festered way too long. I’ll tell you about it tonight.”
“Okay. Until then, take it easy. Breathe. Think of me going down on you. I know I will be.”
Tyler’s eyes widened. That was by far the most original way to end a phone call she’d ever experienced. It almost made her forget her problems. Almost.
This time, when she turned the key, her hands were steady. Time to go home. First thing on her agenda? Stop at the post office.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“THE LETTER WAS delivered, Tyler.”
“I didn’t get it, Walt.”
Tyler went to school with Walter Frome. She liked him. She knew his wife, gave out candy to his kids on Halloween. Right now, she wanted to reach over the counter and pull his heart out of his chest. Probably a good thing that he didn’t know what was going on in her head.
“Carla is the mail carrier in your part of town. She’s good. Reliable.”
“I’m not accusing anyone of anything, Walt. I know I didn’t get the letter, that’s all.”
“You got that big, fancy security system put in last month. Any chance someone could have broken in before that?”
“And stolen one piece of mail?”
“It was a thought.”
Tyler made her lawyer her next stop. After looking over the document from this morning, he said it came down to two choices. Fight, which would stop any foreclosure. It would also be expensive and, in the end, futile. Or she could find whoever was behind RRAH Limited.
Then what? Beg them not to take her home? Tyler was fine with a little groveling. There was only one big problem. Finding someone who didn’t want to be found.
Drew. She kept coming back to him. He was co-owner of a billion dollar security firm. In all likelihood, he would have a name for her in a matter of hours.
Don’t be stubborn, Tyler told herself. Call. Now.
With a resigned sigh, she got out her phone and dialed.
Voicemail. This was not her day. She didn’t bother to leave a message; she would see him later. She tried Jack. Again, not picking up. Then Alex. Oh, come on. How could they all be unavailable?
Needing to vent on someone, she hit speed dial. Rose was out. Dani too. Was there some mass orgy that she wasn’t invited to?
Frustrated beyond words, she did the only thing that came to mind. She went home and worked. Nothing cleared her mind like losing herself in her art. Today, as she ran her hands over the beginnings a whimsical sprite hiding in a bed of wild poppies, it took almost an hour for her brain to hit neutral. When it did, when she let go of everything else, her sculpture began to sing.
Time had no meaning when she was focused on releasing her subject for the lump of clay or block of marble. She knew it was in there, begging to see the light of day. To be given the chance to inspire or delight.
This particular project was for a backyard garden. A woman in San Diego saw a piece of Tyler’s in a gallery while visiting relatives in Chicago. Her only instructions for the commission? Make it light and fun.
Standing back, looking critically at the winking figure, Tyler thought, mission accomplished.
She was a sweaty, tired mess. And she felt better. If she were forced to live in an alley, making a cardboard box her home, she would be fine as long as she could create.
Now that was ridiculous. Even without her home, she would never be homeless. There was money in the bank. Generous friends. In a pinch, her mother would take her, though with M.J. in and out, that was not going to happen.
Then there was Drew. Why did she always think of him last?
Tyler smiled a little sadly. That was easy. She thought of him last because she wanted him. First, last. Always.
The doorbell made her jump. Glancing at her watch, she was amazed to see how late it was. The bell rang again. It had to be Drew.
Tyler gave a quick look to be sure before disengaging the locks. Damn, there were a lot of the suckers. She fumbled with the last one before throwing open the door.
“I’m a dirty, sweaty mess so if you don’t want me in your arms, you’d better speak up. Now.”
Drew wordlessly stepped into the studio, shut the door, and pulled Tyler into his arms. He didn’t know what was wrong. Something told him this was going to take more than a hug to fix. But it was a start.
Tyler sank in and held on. Closing her eyes, she let the feel of his arms around her begin to chase away all the crap of the day.
“Let me help.”
“You are,” Tyler assured him. She burrowed deep, taking in his smell, his warmth.
Drew could feel her distress. She practically vibrated with it. He was fine with holding her as long as she needed. Scooping her off her feet, he headed for the big overstuffed chair in the lounge area. He settled them both, his right hand running along her back — soothing. His left hand cupping her cheek, his thumb lightly caressing the soft skin.
Tyler felt like she had held her breath all day. Drew’s touch gave her the ability to exhale. The process was slow. She wasn’t sure how long they sat there. She did know his patience was infinite. He didn’t ask. He didn’t push. He waited.
“It’s a long story.”
Drew kissed the top of her head before tipping her chin so he could look into her eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He looked deep. “For you, I have all the time in the world.”
“Don’t be sweet — not yet. I’ll cry. Once I start blubbering, I’ll never get everything out.”
Now he was worried. Tyler blubbering? This was bad.
“Want me to be mean?” he asked, trying to inject a little humor. “What did Cher say to Nicholas Cage in Moonstruck? Oh, that’s right. Snap out of it.”
“She slapped him first. Twice.”
“If you don’t mind, I vote we skip that part.”
Tyler nodded, a little smile on her lips. There we go, Drew thought, now we can get started.
“Tell me your troubles, Ty. Let me make it better.”
“I don’t think anyone can do that,” Tyler said with a sigh.
“We’ll see. Now, spill. You’ll feel better, I promise.”
She started from the beginning. Her emotional visit with her mother. The letter. The trip to Spokane. It all came tumbling out. Not incoherently. Tyler was surprised at how calmly she was able to convey the turbulent events of the day.
Drew let her talk. There was no need to interrupt or ask questions. Once Tyler got started, she told him everything in detail. He felt his emotions run the same gamut as hers. Happiness for the deeper connection she found with her mother. Worry and despair that she might lose her studio.
Guilt. That one was his own. The idea that she needed him — needed her friends — and no one could be found, burned like acid in his stomach.
“I’m sorry, Ty.” Drew pulled her closer. “I had a meeting that lasted all afternoon. Jack and Alex spent the afternoon with their ladies. If none of them answered their phones, they were probably having a little afternoon delight.”
That made Tyler smile again.
“I wasn’t that far off.”
“What do you mean?”
�
��When I couldn’t get in touch with any of you, I thought there was an orgy and I wasn’t invited.”
Drew laughed.
“We are all strictly the one-on-one types.”
“Good to know.”
“Can I see the letter? The one that came today?”
Tyler disengaged from him long enough to retrieve the piece of paper. Handing it to Drew, she sat next to him while he read.
“You lawyer is right. We need to find the owners of RRAH Limited. Money speaks. I can—”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“No, you won’t fix this with your money.”
“Tyler, be reasonable.”
Tyler felt the rise of a familiar heat. Anger. Good. She spent the day feeling helpless, crushed. She hated being a victim. It was time to stop. Getting mad felt better.
“Reasonable? That’s an interesting word to toss around. You have money. Lots of it. I don’t. Since when does rich equal the ability to reason? My observations say just the opposite.”
“I want to help. Why is that wrong?”
“Because your first impulse is to throw money — your money — at the problem. I need help. I need you to find me a name, not flaunt your big bucks.”
“Flaunt? Did you say flaunt?”
“You heard me right.”
“Tyler.”
Drew stopped. He knew what she was doing. She needed to swat at somebody. He was handy. Safe.
Drew let that sink in. Tyler knew she was safe with him. She could kick and punch at him trusting he would take it. Give a little back.
Tyler was a fighter. She needed a man who could hold his own. Drew felt a wave of satisfaction. He grinned. He was that man. And Tyler knew it.
“Are you smiling? Seriously?”
“Here’s what I’m going to do for you, Tyler Jones.” He held up three fingers. “First, I’m going to call Jack. He can find out the name behind RRAH Limited.”
Drew took down one finger.
“Second, I’m going to order some soup from Pansy’s Diner. I know the plan was pizza,” Drew said when Tyler would have protested. “I’m guessing you haven’t eaten all day. You need something comforting.”
“Pizza is comforting.”
Ignoring her remark, Drew wiggled the last finger.
“Finally, I’m going to strip you down to your lovely birthday suit, get you in the shower. Wash you. Kiss you. Pamper you. We’ll eat. We’ll make love.” Drew gathered her close. “We’ll figure out what to do.”
Tyler didn’t want to argue. It all sounded too good.
“Isn’t Jack busy?”
“Jack had been getting busy with Rose all day,” Drew laughed. “He won’t mind, Ty.”
After Drew had given him the Reader’s Digest, Jack not only didn’t mind, he rushed Drew off the phone so he could get started.
Tyler listened with one ear while placing their dinner order. She was lucky to have amazing friends. She could get by on her own; it was good to know she didn’t have to.
“Now, I believe I said something about washing you.”
Tyler eluded his grasp. She laughed, slapping his hands away when he made another grab.
“One of us has to be out here when the food arrives.”
“Call back. Tell them to delay delivery for another half hour.”
Tyler sidestepped him, shaking her head. She pulled off her t-shirt, uncovering a mint-colored bra trimmed in matching lace.
“Now that’s just not fair,” Drew said with a frown. “I want to find out if your panties match.”
“No problem.”
Tyler unbuttoned her jeans, shimmying them down her hips. She stepped out, showing Drew her underwear was indeed color-coordinated.
“Need help unhooking that?” he asked hopefully.
Tyler shook her head. “Front closure.”
She teased the bra open, showing more skin while keeping her breasts fully covered.
“Don’t poke the bear, honey.”
“More like a big, sleek cat. Jaguar? Panther?”
“Go take your shower before I pounce.” He pretended to lunge after her, enjoying the view of her butt as she scampered out of the room.
Alone, Drew picked up the letter again. He took out his phone, aimed, sending the picture to Jack with a few notes. It shouldn’t take long. Digging was a specialty of his partner. If the information turned out to be what Drew thought, the owner of RRAH Limited was going to be sorry she ever started this. He planned on finishing it — once and for all.
MARTIN JONES JUNIOR sat in his beat-up Chevy Nova, smoking cigarettes, throwing back cheap whiskey. He stared, his hatred growing, at the sleek black Ferrari parked in front of his bitch sister’s studio.
That should be his car. He deserved better than this piece of crap he won in a poker game ten years ago. Even then, it was a rust bucket that refused to start every other time. The smell of cat piss still lingered from the visible stain in the backseat. How was that possible?
He checked his watch. That fucker Drew Harper probably wasn’t leaving until morning. What he saw in Tyler, M.J. would never know. A skinny ballbuster. He liked his women quiet, respectful, in bed and out. His sister never knew when to shut up. M.J. imagined she was the same during sex. He shuddered at the thought.
He lifted the almost empty bottle to his lips. Damn. Should have brought a spare. There was still time to stop by the liquor store. Old Lady Harper was paying him to watch Tyler and her fancy-ass son, not the outside of a building. She’d never know if he cut out early.
M.J. turned the ignition. The car coughed, reluctantly starting on the first try. Tomorrow, he would give Mrs. High and Mighty his weekly report. Boring as hell. Maybe he’d make up a fight. A big one. That would make her happy and might earn him a bonus.
M.J. flicked his half-smoked cigarette out the window. Tyler had always been a pain in his ass. He hated her from the moment his parents announced her imminent arrival. Then she turned out to be a girl. Ugh. Worthless.
It seemed only fair that she turned out to finally be good for something.
THE HOT SHOWER made Tyler feel like a new woman. Telling everything to Drew, having someone who listened, sympathized, eased the feeling of doom she’d been burdened with most of the day. The warm soup and crusty bread from Pansy’s Diner would help too. Drew was right. She needed something in her stomach.
Instead of getting dressed, she put on a slinky little nightie the color of ripe plums. She loved how the silk felt against her skin. Tyler couldn’t wait to see Drew’s reaction. Deciding they might not get to dinner if he saw it too soon, she covered up in a thick terry cloth robe. A present from her mother, it was about as sexy as gym socks. She bundled her hair into a messy bun on top of her head, adding a touch of lip-gloss.
“Perfect timing. The food arrived a couple minutes ago.” Drew turned, his smile widening when he saw her.
“What?”
“I’m more tempted to eat you than the soup.”
Tyler smoothed a hand down the soft robe. “Really? I was going for sexless.”
“Not possible, honey. A big head to toe paper bag — maybe. I look at you and zing — instant want.”
Tyler wondered how any woman could resist a man who looked at her like that? Drew’s eyes told her he found her beautiful, sexy. As she stood there in a frumpy robe and no makeup, she felt like she was.
Now, the meal eaten, the dishes done, they were in her bed. Her in the nightie that garnered just the reaction she hoped. Him, big, gorgeous Drew Harper, sprawled at her feet — painting her toenails.
“You’re awfully good at that.”
“Natural ability. I swear you’re my first.”
“Steady hand,” Tyler observed; the toes on her right foot clenching as he worked on the left. Soooo sexy.
“Mmm.” He leaned close to his work, carefully avoiding going outside the lines. Looking up, he gently blew on the wet polish. “We were smart to go with the Scarlet Pimpernel. Much
better than That Touch of Pink.”
Holy crap, Tyler thought. If he kissed her instep, she might explode on the spot.
“You know, I’ve seen Bull Durham five, maybe six times.”
“Me too.” Tyler breathed the words. Drew’s thumb rubbed a spot on the bottom of her foot that should have been illegal.
“As I recall, when Kevin Costner did this for Susan Sarandon, she was tied up.”
Tyler’s eyes popped back open. Was he serious? She looked closely. Maybe, a little. Mostly teasing.
She was warm, relaxed. Though Drew’s attention soothed her worries, he couldn’t eliminate them completely. There was still an underlying tension. No amount of gentle sweetness could take care of it all. It made her feel slightly restless, yet just reckless enough to try something she might not otherwise consider.
Tyler looked Drew in the eye, her smile a wicked challenge. You toss out an idea, she was saying, you better be prepared to follow through.
“There are some scarves on a hook behind the closet door.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
DREW BLINKED. WAS Tyler saying what he thought she was saying?
“Unless you’re not up to it. Or maybe you don’t like the idea?”
Tyler? Tied to the bed? At his mercy? Even a dead man would rise to that occasion.
Drew hopped off the bed, retrieving two long silk scarves. Turning back, he tested the strength and softness. Once he had her tied, he didn’t want her pulling loose or scraping up her wrists.
For a moment, Drew considered asking Tyler if she really wanted to do this. One look at her gave him the answer he sought — no words needed.
“Feeling a little wild tonight, are we?”
Not expecting a response, Drew put one knee on the mattress. He took her left hand, gently kissing her wrist before slipping on the scarf. He secured it to the headboard, tugging once to make sure it wouldn’t come loose.
“Aren’t I supposed to have a safe word?”
Drew quickly tied her other wrist before meeting her twinkling eyes with his own.
“How about, Untie these fucking scarves, Drew. Now.”
“Kind of a mouth full, but it works for me.”
If You Only Knew (Harper Falls #3) Page 24