My Tye

by Kristin Daniels

  Where did this asshole get off judging her, or anyone for that matter? Who graced him with the title of judge, jury and executioner all in one for something that was absolutely none of his business?

  Laine tilted her head back and let the water run over her face. Images of Tye standing on the porch and then kneeling in front of her as she recounted the attack flashed behind her closed eyes, which had her considering that maybe she was being just as judgmental. She’d been so leery of telling him where she’d been, of what he might think of her if he knew the truth.

  Damn it, he never had a chance. She spent so much time worrying over what his reaction might be to not only the location of the assault, but to what that ultimately spun around and said about her to stop for even a second and give him the benefit of the doubt.

  And that simply wasn’t right. It was time he knew the truth.

  She shut the water off and grabbed a towel from the rod by the door. It took what seemed like forever to dry off, but she finally managed to finish and get her hair wrapped up in the towel. Looking at the scrubs lying in a pile on the floor, she knew she couldn’t bring herself to put them back on, which sent her on a search for something of Tye’s she could wear, something that wouldn’t swallow her whole. She found a t-shirt and a pair of too-big basketball shorts folded in a laundry basket next to the dresser in his room. As she knotted the string in the shorts around her hips to keep them from falling down, she again hoped he wouldn’t mind that she borrowed a few of his things.

  After gently running a comb through her hair, she slipped her feet back into the blue hospital socks and made her way out of Tye’s bedroom to go look for him. Hearing the front door closing after he’d checked on her told her that she’d find him outside. The screen door creaked a little as she opened it, and she closed it slowly behind her to keep the bang of it slamming from ricocheting through her head.

  Now, where to look for him.

  The stables sat just across the driveway, and she figured that would be as good a place to start as any. The door stood open, and as she stepped through she had to hold her breath at the sight she found inside the small barn.

  Tye stood in one of the stalls with his eyes closed as two horses cuddled up to him with their muzzles. His eyebrows were drawn together, and his breaths were heavy but even. She didn’t know why, but the tightness with which he held his jaw had butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

  He looked so intent, so deep in thought, that she hated to disturb him. But what she had to tell him couldn’t wait any longer. Shoving her nerves aside, she stepped farther into the stables and cleared her throat.

  She expected him to be caught off guard when he saw her, but those expectations quickly fell away when his eyes shot open. Instead of surprise, a barely controlled heat poured from his gaze when he looked at her. He seared her with that one sultry stare. The burn traveled through her body, sizzling her here, scorching her there. It was all she could do to force a breath before she ended up passing out.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you,” she managed to say.

  “You didn’t.”

  After another tentative step, she glanced down at the clothes she borrowed before meeting his stare once again. “I hope you don’t mind.” She stopped and swallowed, gripping the hem of the t-shirt. “I, um, showered,” she said by way of explanation.

  His expression softened then, which was both a shame and a relief. “I don’t mind. I could’ve helped, though. I don’t like the idea of you doing too much too soon.”

  She’d been right in thinking he’d feel that way, even if at the same time she had to skip over what that I could’ve helped part had her imagining. That was a little too much for her to deal with just yet. “I’m okay. Sore but okay.”

  Tye patted the neck of the brown and white horse in the next stall. “You’ll probably be that way for a few days.”

  “I’m sure.” She moved into the stall with him and came up alongside the black and white horse. “What’s his name?”

  Tye never took his eyes off her. And when he leaned back against the stall and crossed his arms over his chest, she had to look away.

  “That one there is Flash. This guy hanging over my shoulder is Rocky.”

  She stroked Flash’s shoulder and side—back and again, back and again—until the stillness hanging between her and Tye became too much.

  “I was leaving Club Euphoria when I was attacked.”

  With those words, all the air whooshed out of her lungs. She didn’t look over at Tye, she didn’t dare, not with how quiet he was being. But she felt him. Felt his stance shift from one foot to the other, felt the warmth of his stare intensify along her back.

  “I know.”

  She stopped mid-stroke and peered over her shoulder at him. “You do? How?”

  “I know Jack McKay.”

  Was that the same Jack from last night? Marshall Mac? It had to be. Oh God.

  When she didn’t say anything more, Tye went on.

  “He works at Euphoria a couple nights a week. He was the manager on duty last night.”

  But… “How…”

  Tye unfolded his arms and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “He’s also the sheriff of Samson County, Laine.”

  Her stomach froze into a hard, hollow ball and just hung there, heavy inside her body. “Wait a minute. He’s the sheriff? How did I not know—”

  “Why would you? There are fifty miles and another county separating us. We take care of our jurisdiction and he takes care of his. Nothing’s popped up in the last year and a half since you moved here to bring any of us together.”

  “Until now,” she whispered, turning her attention back to the horse.

  “Right,” he said just as quietly, pushing away from the stall’s wall. “Still, he doesn’t go around the club advertising he’s the county sheriff. Some know, sure. But for a guy who’s in the public eye professionally, he’s done a hell of a job keeping a very low profile when it comes to his personal life.”

  Laine only nodded, trying to absorb what Tye was telling her. He must’ve picked up on that, since he kept his distance and remained just as quiet as she was.

  After a moment, she said, “I suppose he filled you in on last night, then.”

  Tye sighed from behind her before coming up next to her. He tucked his shoulder under Flash’s head and petted the horse’s neck. “No. He wouldn’t even confirm that you were there. And it was because he wouldn’t, along with the location where you said you’d parked, that helped me figure out for sure that you were.”

  That got her to wonder what made him contact Jack in the first place. “What made you think to call him?”

  He looked at her neck and wrists, clenched his jaw and then met her eyes. “Your injuries. There was a series of attacks about five years ago, all taking place in close proximity to that club. Let me guess, you were parked about a block away, right?”

  A fresh bout of panic threatened to grab her. She nodded again and tried not to let it consume her, even though she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

  “Those women before parked around there too. They were also hurt in much the same way as you were, only worse. None of them were able to get away the way you did, though. Not before it got really bad.”

  A chill spread over Laine’s skin, and for a moment she thought her knees might give out. Tye caught her mid-sway and helped her out of the stall, leading her over to a bench near the doorway.

  “Hold on,” he said, steadying her so she could sit. He crouched in front of her just as he’d done before on the porch, while stroking his hands up and down her calves. “Take deep breaths. Easy now.”

  The cold attacking her skin melded with the frozen pit her stomach had become. Despite the heat inside the stable, she started to shiver, slowly at first, until the quiet shudders morphed into full-blown tremors.

  That was when Tye squeezed next to her on the bench and pulled her into his arms. He wrapped his warmth around h
er, and she had to bite back a sob. “I had no idea,” she groaned. “Why… Is it the same person?”

  Tye shook his head, gripping her tighter. “Jack doesn’t think so. He’s checking into it, but in the meantime we’re pretty sure we have a new perp on the loose.”

  She burrowed further into his arms, seeking both his heat and the power he naturally exuded. She felt safe here with him, taken care of. As much as she’d been in an uproar about coming to Tye’s ranch, now she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

  “I can’t believe this,” she said. “Not any of it.”

  He didn’t say anything, not that there was anything for him to say. He only pressed his lips against her forehead and held them there. After another minute, he said, “Want to talk about it?”

  She did. She wanted it all out in the open, wanted to look head-on into the eyes of everything she had to deal with.

  When she tilted her head to look up at him, her lips were mere inches away from his. The memory of his kiss in the hospital tingled along her lips now. “Inside?”

  He stared into her eyes, and she wondered for a split-second if he might kiss her again. But his hesitation was over before it really began. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s go.” He stood, bringing her to her feet along with him.

  They walked arm in arm across the dirt driveway and back into the house. Once they were inside, he led her to a barstool at the breakfast counter separating the kitchen from the living room.

  Tossing his hat on top of his keys sitting on the end table, he said, “Let me make you something to eat. You need to work on building up your strength.”

  There he went again, taking care of her. And there she went, too, letting him. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  He shot her a look that said he thought she was nuts for thinking such a thing. “You’re no trouble, believe me. Besides, I need to eat too.”

  He went to the fridge and pulled out some eggs, then opened the freezer where he found an ice pack. He held it out to her from over the counter. “For your eye.”

  She took the pack, leaned her elbow on the counter and tenderly held the ice against her eye.

  “Scrambled okay?”

  She nodded, not really thrilled with how any food sounded right about now, but she also knew Tye was right. She needed something more than an ice ball rattling around inside her stomach, so scrambled eggs it was.

  “Good, since that’s the easiest way to make ‘em. Never quite got the hang of flipping the whole ones without breaking the yolk.”

  She smiled when he did, despite her insides pitching and diving like she was stuck on some roadside carnival ride.

  He quietly placed a small skillet on the stove, then cracked five brown eggs into a bowl he’d gotten from the cabinet above the sink. He added a touch of milk and a few turns of the pepper mill, then whisked the mixture with a quick, steady rhythm. The motion mesmerized her, but it wasn’t the whisk or the eggs that captivated her attention. It was Tye’s forearm—the way it flexed, the muscles tightening along the top and the veins protruding from underneath, all from doing something so everyday and mundane—that held her transfixed.

  He stopped too soon for her liking, and plopped a couple pats of butter into the skillet, followed by the eggs. He looked up to her as he stirred them, and before she could stop herself, she glanced away.

  “How long have you known Jack?” she asked, concentrating on the eggs instead of him.

  He stopped stirring and thought on that. “Hell, close to ten years now, I guess. We served as deputies together over in Louis County before going our separate ways. We keep in touch, though. I still talk to him every now and then.”

  “So, you’ve known him a long time.” She didn’t know if that made her feel better or not.

  He nodded. “There’s not too many men that I trust more than I do him.”

  Well, that was good to know.

  “Was last night your first time at Euphoria?” he asked.

  Whammo.

  She pulled the ice pack away from her eye and set it on the counter in front of her, kneading the frozen goo inside with her fingertips. A fresh round of nerves struck her, but she went with them this time. She really didn’t have any other choice.

  “It was,” she said. “It was my first time any place like that.”

  He let the eggs sit a minute and dropped a few slices of bread into the toaster, then went to the fridge for some orange juice. “What’d you think?”

  That question was easy enough to answer. “That I’d made a huge mistake by going there.”

  He drew his eyebrows together. “Because of the attack.”

  If she were being honest? “Afterward, absolutely. But before? The place just wasn’t what I, um, expected.”

  The look he gave her then took on about a million different meanings all at once. Still, he didn’t say anything. He simply stirred the pan one final time, turned the flame off underneath it and split the eggs evenly between two plates. The toast was next, which he lightly buttered, then he poured two glasses of juice. He set the plates and glasses on the breakfast bar, then came around to her side and slid onto the stool next to her.

  But he didn’t just dig in like she thought he would. Instead, he turned her barstool so she sat facing him.

  “What was it that you expected?”

  Her hands fell to her lap where she fiddled with a string on the hem of his shirt. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  “You had to have had some idea.”

  Okay, this pussyfooting around was stupid. This, right here, right now, was her chance to lay it all out on the line. On a deep breath, she looked up and met his eyes. “You’re right. I knew what I wanted to find. Only what I saw didn’t come close to that. It wasn’t even in the same hemisphere.”

  He slouched forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees and tracing an imaginary circle around her kneecap with one finger. “I can only imagine.”

  She blew out an acerbic huff. “Can you?” Then again, if he knew Jack…

  “Places like that aren’t for everyone, you know.”

  That stopped her, simply because it was almost word for word what Jack had said to her during the tour of the club. “Yeah, I figured that out.”

  “So why go in the first place?”

  Oh, man…

  She shrugged and concentrated on her hands in her lap again. “I couldn’t not go anymore. I just wanted to see for myself if what… If these feelings I have are…”

  He slid his hand up her thigh and held on to her hand. “Are what?”

  She licked her lips. Swallowed. Hesitated, but only for a moment. “I have these fantasies.” Which you star in. “This… I don’t know. Need?” The edge of her lip lifted and she nervously let out a tiny chuckle. She glanced out the front door, then over to the fireplace, then down the hallway. She looked everywhere, it seemed, except Tye’s face. “I’ve never told anyone this. Well, I tried to tell Jack last night, but that didn’t go so well either.”

  “It’s okay. Go on.”

  After another minute, she said, “I thought I’d find what I was looking for there. But, God, Tye. What I saw…”

  He gripped her hand a little firmer. “Intense?”

  She snuck a peek at him. “Not for some, maybe. But for me? Yeah.” This time she held her ground and didn’t look away. “I think it was the blood.”

  Tye narrowed his eyes. “The blood?”

  She nodded. “And the needles. That was…well, not for me. I’m not in the market for blood and pain.” She sighed. “Hell, maybe I’m just fooling myself altogether. Maybe I’m not cut out for any part of that lifestyle.”

  Tye shifted in his seat, sat up straighter. “Not necessarily. Maybe it’s just that you haven’t found the right person to share with yet. The one person who knows what you need. Who can give you exactly what you want.”

  The fact that he sounded like he knew a little bit about understanding what a person interested in BDSM might w
ant or need, along with him not completely freaking the hell out on her, had her mind whirling.

  She didn’t have a chance to tamp down on the spinning top her head had become, not when he moved in closer and cupped her cheek. And not when what he said on his next breath took hers away.

  “Maybe I could be that person for you.”

  Chapter Nine

  It was Tye’s turn for a little confession. Now that he’d heard from Laine’s own lips that she’d been to Club Euphoria and that she had some interest in maybe not the S&M side of BDSM, but in other aspects of the lifestyle, it was time for her to know the truth about him as well.

  “What do you mean, maybe you could be that person?” Her question came out breathy. Quiet. Like he’d just shocked the hell out of her.

  He stroked his thumb along her cheek. “Just what it sounds like. Being a county sheriff isn’t the only thing I have in common with Jack McKay.”

  “I…” As her eyes widened a little, she opened her mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again. She bit at her bottom lip, and all he could think about while she did all that was how badly he wanted to kiss her. “You’re…”

  He figured he’d answer her before she even finished asking the question. “If anyone’s labeling, then Dom would fit.”

  Her chest caved in a little when she let out her held breath, and her shoulders slumped, but only slightly. “Oh God.”

  He didn’t know if that was a good Oh God or a bad Oh God. “Not what you expected?”

  “It’s not that.” Again with her hesitation. “No, wait. It pretty much is that.”

  He smiled a little.

  “I didn’t know,” she said, quieter.

  “No reason you would have. Not very many people do. Like Mac, it’s not anything I go around advertising.” He scooted forward on his barstool, spreading his legs wider so her knees fit between them. “Unlike Mac, though, I don’t do the whole club scene. It’s just not my thing.”

  She swallowed while searching his eyes. “What is your thing?”