His to Love (Fireside #1)

by Stacey Lynn

  “Thank you,” he said, his voice low and thick as I climbed into the seat. “For this chance.”

  “It’s just a ride home, not a chance at anything.” I looked away, knowing my words lacked the conviction I intended.

  “Whatever you say, Blue.” He smirked and shut the door just as I began to scowl at him.

  “He’s not a bad guy,” Chelsea whispered as Tyson walked around the front of his vehicle.

  When I speared her with an angry look she shrugged, her lips twisting into a mischievous grin. “Just sayin’.”

  I pointed a finger at her and mock glared. “You’re off my Christmas list for getting us into this mess. And I buy kickass Christmas presents.”

  She rolled her eyes and leaned against the back of her seat, her eyes closing almost immediately. “We’ll see,” she muttered, when Tyson opened the door on his side and climbed in.

  “We’ll see about what?”

  “Nothing.” I crossed my arms and looked out the window, wishing like hell I wasn’t trapped inside his truck.

  It smelled too much like him.

  I hadn’t been this close to him in months, and even though I wanted to ignore him, the pull toward him was strong.

  We dropped Chelsea off at her house, and I hated that my heart softened toward Tyson when he walked her up to her front door, helped her inside, and didn’t leave until I knew he had heard her front door lock behind him.

  He could do so many things so wonderfully, so many things that showed he cared, and I didn’t doubt that he cared about me.

  I doubted that he loved me like I loved him.

  I doubted my ability to trust him again.

  It wasn’t until he pulled into a visitor’s spot directly in front of my apartment building that my drunken mind caught up to what had just happened.

  I frowned. “You know where I live.”

  The apartment complex I moved into was large, with four separate buildings. Each building had three areas for visitor parking, and I didn’t believe for a second that Tyson just happened to pull into the one spot with the closest entrance to my third floor apartment.

  My irritation spiked as he climbed out of his truck and began walking toward my side. I flung my door open and jumped down, slamming the door behind me.

  “I wanted to know you were safe.”

  “Because it wouldn’t be good for your job if your target got hurt, would it?”

  “It’s not like that,” he hissed.

  “Whatever.” I pulled away from his outstretched hand and dug into my purse for my keys. “Go home, Tyson.”

  “Not until I know you’re inside.”

  His footsteps followed me up the wooden stairs. With my keys in one hand, I held on to the railing with the other to make sure I didn’t fall. I still felt a bit drunk, although the familiar sense of betrayal was quickly sobering me up. But by the time I reached my door, my eyes could barely stay open. I figured I was about five steps away from my couch, where I planned on passing out.

  I didn’t look at Tyson when I unlocked the door. “I’m home now. Happy?”

  Tyson slid his hands into his jeans pockets and frowned. “No. I’m not happy.”

  “Well that’s not my fault, is it?”

  He inhaled and looked away from me. “No, Blue. It’s not your fault. It’s mine and I know that.”

  His sad eyes and tender voice made me swallow down quickly rising emotions.

  “I’m too drunk to deal with this crap tonight,” I muttered and walked inside my home.

  I was aware that the door didn’t shut behind me, and I knew Tyson helped himself inside when I heard his footsteps following me. The door finally clicked and locked.

  My super soft, gray couch was calling my name, and I headed directly toward it.

  “Go away,” I called out, unaware of where Tyson had gone.

  I kicked off my sandals and reached for my chenille throw, pulling it up to my chin after I laid down on the couch. My eyes were beginning to close when Tyson appeared in my hazy vision, a glass of water in his hand.

  “Take the water and medicine. It will help with your hangover tomorrow.”

  “You didn’t give Chelsea the same treatment when you dropped her off.” I was pouting and being immature. I also didn’t care. He knew where I lived, which meant he’d been following me. Or tracing me.

  Or doing whatever he wanted behind my back.

  He reached for the blanket, tossing it down to my waist and placed three pills in my palm. “Just take the medicine.”

  I tossed them into my mouth and took the cup of water from his hand, sitting up so I could swallow it down without spilling. Then I handed the cup back to him. “Happy now?”

  “No.”

  I closed my eyes and set my head on the armrest. I shifted to get comfortable, but then I felt hands on me, arms sliding beneath me, and I yelped in surprise when Tyson hefted me into his arms.

  “Put me down!” I shouted squirming in his hold.

  “I’m just taking you to bed so you can sleep better. Tomorrow we’ll talk.”

  I shook my head. “We have nothing to say,” I replied as he lowered me to my bed. I let go of him, unaware that my hands had been clinging to his shirt while he held me. I kept my mouth shut as he adjusted the covers, pulling them over me while I rolled to my side.

  “I have a lot to say to you, and you’re going to listen.”

  “Just leave me alone,” I whispered, my heavy eyelids closing again.

  “I can’t,” he whispered. I felt his breath on my cheek and my nose before his lips brushed against my forehead. I shivered from head to toe at that smallest touch. “I love you too much.”

  I swallowed thickly, that lump in my throat returning. “I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t,” he whispered, pressing his lips more firmly against my forehead. “You just wish you did. Now sleep so we can finally talk tomorrow.”

  I couldn’t argue with him. His scent, his touches, and his kisses had rendered me speechless.

  Instead, I burrowed into my pillow and passed out. The last memory I had was of Tyson’s knuckles softly grazing my cheek.

  Chapter 22

  The smell of freshly brewed coffee assaulted my senses before I fully awoke.

  Rolling over, I cracked one eye open only to find a dark brown coffee mug, with the words “Keep Calm and Drink Coffee” printed in white ink, inches from my face.

  “What’s this?” I asked, my voice still hoarse from sleep.

  Tyson set it down on the table next to my bed and took a step back. “Made you coffee.”

  I narrowed my eyes, flickering my gaze from the mug and then back to him. I sat up in the bed, bringing the covers with me. Memories of last night flashed in my mind, and I remembered Tyson showing up outside Fireside and driving me home. “You stayed.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and backed up until his hip rested against my dresser. I followed his movement only to notice that he was wearing different clothes than he had been wearing last night. In lieu of the faded jeans and gray shirt he had been wearing, he now had on black dress pants and a cleanly pressed white shirt.

  “You went home and came back?” One eyebrow arched in question.

  “Found a spare key in one of your drawers and took it with me so I could get back in.”

  I reached for my coffee, needing the caffeinated fuel to wake me up.

  “How very creepy of you,” I replied once I had my first hit of caffeine.

  I looked at the clock and saw that it was still earlier than I usually woke up. Since he probably knew that, with his FBI superpowers, I didn’t bother with an excuse of running late.

  He stood still, watching me sip my coffee, and I stopped looking at him. It was too confusing. My body responded to his presence, my heart beating a little faster, even as a warning blared in my head telling me he was nothing but a liar.

  “How long are you going to stand there and stare at me?” I asked when my coffee w
as almost all gone.

  “As long as it takes for you to be willing to talk to me.”

  I rolled my eyes and set the mug down. “I don’t think I have anything to say.”

  “Maybe I do.”

  His words from last night flickered through my hazy memory. I can’t. I love you too much.

  I muffled a gasp and looked away.

  “There she is,” he said. “Now she’s remembering.”

  “It would have helped to have heard that before.”

  “While I was still lying to you?” he pressed. “Would you have believed me then?”

  “You’re assuming I believe you at all,” I snapped, glaring at him.

  He pushed off the dresser and stalked toward me, not stopping until he reached my bed and sat down on the edge.

  I wanted him gone.

  I wanted to pull him down to me and see if his full lips were as soft as I remembered. As if he knew what I was thinking, his tongue slid out and licked his bottom lip.

  “Blue, I can’t begin to describe how difficult this was for me.” He leaned forward as I tried to scramble away, but he held me in place with one hand on each side of my hips. I looked away from him even as a blush hit my cheeks. He was too close and smelled too good. Even beneath his white dress shirt, I could see the muscles of his biceps flex.

  “Do you think I care right now how difficult it was for you?” I asked, feeling my emotions begin to bubble. “I was nothing but a pawn, and you took away my family.”

  “I helped incarcerate a man who belonged in jail.” A muscle ticked in his jaw, showing his tension. I looked past it.

  “And do you feel your own father’s death has been avenged now that you finally put mine away?”

  He dipped his chin, locking his eyes on mine. “Yes. In part. I’m not going to lie about that.”

  “How noble of you.” I pushed on his arms, needing to get away from him. “Let me go. I’m not discussing this while we’re in my bed.”

  With one quick move, he had my wrists clamped together and he pushed me backward on the bed, my head flopping on my pillow. He shifted when my hips thrust against him and pinned me down by straddling my thighs with his.

  “Look at me,” he practically growled. I pulled my eyes to his, his face inches from mine. If I leaned forward the smallest amount, I could have had his lips on mine. I shouldn’t want it so badly when I was so mad at him, yet I couldn’t deny my reaction to him, either.

  I hated it and loved it in equal measure.

  “What?” I snapped.

  “You stopped being a job to me the moment I saw your picture.”

  “What picture?”

  “My supervising agent showed me a picture when they pulled me in to the job,” he said and dropped his head. I shivered beneath him as his nose slid against mine and across my cheek. “I need you to believe this. What we have, what we started growing together wasn’t false, and if you think back to the time we spent together, you’ll know it. You were caught in the middle, I know. Yes, I was sent here from DC to look into you and your family. The FBI heard you’d been called home and they wanted to know why, because a three-year investigation on your father’s business was tightening and coming to a close. When they learned that you were returning home, they thought you were going to be part of it. There were a few small missing pieces of a puzzle they were trying to put together and they figured you were the answer, somehow. We didn’t know your mom was sick. So, yes, they put me in place to get that information from you. But I need you to think back to all the time we spent together, the things we talked about, the things we did…” He paused and dropped his hips against mine. I could feel him, every inch. We were thigh to thigh, chest to chest, and even though there were blankets, bedding, and clothes between us, I still had to fight my reaction to him.

  My hands went lax in his hold.

  “You’re the only woman I want,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. Goosebumps prickled on my skin. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. I just didn’t want to tell you that with my job and your family between us.”

  I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent, soaking in his touch. I was losing my fight against him.

  “I hate you,” I whispered, even as my hips pressed into his. “I hate that I love you. I hate that you used me. I hate that when I needed you to be there for me when my mom was buried, I had just learned that you betrayed me.”

  “I know.” His forehead dropped to mine as a ripple of pleasure rolled through me. “And I hate that I couldn’t be there for you. I wanted to hold you, to comfort you. I wanted to show you how much I love you.”

  Love.

  I didn’t know if I could trust him.

  So I told him that and he flinched, pulling back from me until he sat up. Swinging a leg off of mine, he pulled me with him until we were both sitting and facing each other.

  “I’ll have to work to earn your trust back, I know this. I just want the chance.” He leaned forward, his hand curled around my neck and then moved to the back of my head, cupping it in his large palm. His gaze softened, roaming my face. “I can’t stop touching you.”

  I didn’t want him to.

  “Tyson.” I breathed out his name on a sigh.

  “You feel this. I know you do.”

  The connection between us was electric. Undeniable. I was fooling myself if I thought I could stay away from him.

  Still, with a self-control I didn’t know I possessed until that moment, I tugged away from his grip.

  “I’ve loved you since I was just a teenager,” I said. I couldn’t help myself. I reached out and brushed a finger along his jawline, feeling the light scruff on his unshaven cheeks. I smiled, but it was sad and tears clouded my vision. “I don’t know if I can forgive you for this, or if I can understand all that you’ve done.”

  “Blue.” His voice was pained, his expression anguished as he called my name.

  I dropped my hand and shook my head. Sliding out from beneath the covers, I stood in front of him. He reached for me, but I stepped out of his reach.

  “I’ll try though,” I finally admitted when the silence in the room became heavy and weighted.

  His eyes snapped to mine and something sparked in them.

  “You will?”

  He stood and took another step toward me.

  I moved back again.

  I wanted to trust him. I wanted him to earn it, but if he touched me, I’d fall into his arms and his touch and his kisses, and I wanted to be smart, too. “I will. But not now. I have to get ready for work, and I need more time to think about this.”

  He reached for me again, this time moving too quickly for me. His arm wrapped around my lower back, and he pulled me closer until I collapsed against him. My hands flew up to brace myself against his chest.

  “Tyson.” It was a tortured whisper, filled with despair. “I need to get ready for work.”

  “And I’ll let you, as soon as you do something for me.”

  “What?”

  He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he lowered his head to mine and at the same time he tilted it. One of his hands slid up my side until he cupped my cheek. Then his lips met mine.

  He kissed me like I was meant for him. Like I was the only woman he ever wanted to kiss. His lips teased mine and he nipped at my lower lip, eliciting sensations from me that had been gone for too long without his touch. I melted into him, forgetting all the difficulties we still faced, all the pain I still bore in my heart because of him.

  He growled low before he pulled back and set me away from him with his hands on my shoulders. “I want to see you tonight. Explain everything I can.”

  “Okay.” I nodded, my fingertips rising to brush against my lips. I could still taste him. Mint and coffee.

  It was my new favorite flavor.

  “I’ll let you get ready for work, then.”

  He took a step away. I longed to reach out to him, to pull him back to me. To finish what he’d just
started. My emotions rioted inside of me. Physical need burst, needing his touch, needing him. But I held back. I still had questions, and I still deserved answers.

  “Tyson,” I called, when he was almost at the door to my bedroom. His eyes flickered with concern before he grinned.

  “Yes?”

  “I want my key back.”

  He smirked and shook his head. “Not on your life.”

  He turned and was gone. A laugh barreled out of me as I shook my head and turned toward my bathroom.

  “See you tonight, Blue! Six o’clock!”

  I didn’t have time to answer before I heard my front door open and then close behind him.

  And as I walked to the bathroom, I was still smiling, still thinking of him, but most of all…

  I was still wanting him.

  —

  My jaw dropped as soon as I entered my apartment. The lights were off but I could still see clearly. On every available surface, candlelight swayed from cream candles, casting a romantic glow all over my living room.

  “Tyson?” I called out when I was met with complete silence.

  He appeared in the kitchen doorway, in jeans slung low on his hips and a simple T-shirt that stretched over him perfectly.

  My mouth practically drooled in anticipation.

  “What is this?” I asked, dropping my purse on a table, careful to avoid the candle flame. I kicked off my heels and walked toward him.

  “How was your day?” he asked, avoiding my own question.

  “Good.” I grinned, recalling my day. “The best, actually.”

  One side of his lips kicked up at the outer edge. “Want to tell me about it?”

  I glanced around my apartment that he had completely taken over. The smells of something cooking in the kitchen almost stole my attention before I looked back at him. “I thought we agreed on six o’clock.”

  It was only five. I snuck out a few minutes early so I could have plenty of time to get ready for wherever Tyson was planning on taking me.

  “We did. I wanted to get here early and get everything ready.”

  “This?” I waved a hand in the air. “What is this?”

  He pushed off the doorframe and headed toward me, not stopping until he was just a foot away. I had to tilt my head back slightly to maintain eye contact. “We still have things to talk about,” he said. “I thought it’d be best done in private.”