by Kait Nolan
Remembering the stunned devastation on her face, he picked up the glass and tossed it back. The shot burned its way down his gullet, but the whiskey didn’t burn nearly as bad as the shame. By his recollection, he needed the rest of the bottle to outrun that. Maybe more. A sketchy place like The Right Attitude probably watered down their drinks. But where else was a man going to drink himself blind on alcohol that could probably double as paint stripper? Home? No, he didn’t dare go back there. Not when he knew he’d see Paisley’s absence in every square inch of the place. He’d probably have to move.
Before he could lift his hand to signal the bartender for another, a familiar figure slid onto the stool beside him. Harrison eyed the row of empty glasses. “Thought you gave this up.”
Instead of answering the implied question, Ty asked one of his own. “How did you find me?”
“We split up. Sebastian headed out to your place. Porter took the tavern. I was the lucky winner.”
“How’d you even know to look for me?”
“Your, shall we say, precipitous exit from the inn did not go unnoticed. Ari texted Ivy.”
Ty squinted through eyes that were starting to go a little bleary, trying to place the name. Dark hair. High school student. Thought Paisley was the coolest thing since…something cool. “Why does Pru and Flynn’s teenage daughter even have Ivy’s number?”
“They became buds when Ivy stayed there last year. Anyway, she indicated that you and Paisley had a fight, and you did not look great when you left. Given the state of the investigation and the fact you’ve been wound tighter than a bow string for days, it seemed prudent to check.” He glanced at the glasses again. “You planning on keeping going with that?”
“You planning to stop me?”
“From getting behind the wheel, absolutely, but if you want to get shit-faced instead of actually dealing with the problem, that’s your call.” He shrugged, as if it truly didn’t matter to him. “It’s a dumb call, but your life, such as it is.”
Bristling, Ty curled his fingers around the empty glass instead of into a fist. He’d clocked Harrison once over hard truths and had felt like an asshole ever since. Even in this state, he wouldn’t do it again.
“I fucked everything up, just like I knew I would. I hurt her, just like before. Except this time, it wasn’t because I had some noble purpose, but because I’m too fucking broken to be what she needs and deserves.”
The bartender wandered back over, pointing at the bottle that would bring him oblivion for just a little while, but at a shake of Harrison’s head, he retreated again.
“What exactly do you think that is?”
“Somebody who can be that hero she’s always wanted. Somebody who can keep her safe and find this asshole who’s upending her life. Somebody who doesn’t make promises he can’t keep.”
“Hm.” Harrison glanced at his watch. “Should’ve been Sebastian to catch you in this mood.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Just that he’s got a lot more experience shoveling horse shit.”
“Excuse me?”
“That is some grade-A, top-quality horse shit, my brother. And maybe that’s on me. I’m the one who told you last year you needed to find a new mission. I didn’t realize you’d take me quite so literally.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Finding a new mission is not about taking that literal military mission mentality and applying it to everything else. You’ve been treating life like a fucking op. One with an expiration date any day now. You haven’t set down roots, haven’t connected with anybody but those already in your inner circle. Until Paisley. She snuck past that infamous guard of yours because she was already there. And it’s been the best damned thing that could have happened to you. Over the past weeks, I’ve seen you alive again, not just going through the motions. But you’ve turned her into a mission, and that’s not how love works. She’s a person. A pretty damned awesome one. She is not with you because she needs or wants a bodyguard. She’s with you because she loves you. It’s in every look, every word she writes. That’s not a thing you have to earn. It’s a gift, and to act like it’s anything else is the height of foolishness.”
He hadn’t been treating life like a mission. He’d just been surviving, existing until she came back into his life. She’d made him want to be that hero she claimed to see. He’d tried. He’d tried so damned hard to live up to those expectations. To be worthy of her love. And he’d failed.
“I didn’t protect her.”
“You’re running an op without enough information. Sometimes shit gets FUBAR. You know that. But she’s fine. She’s safe. And if you’ll pull your head out of your ass, you’ll keep her that way.” He laid a hand on Ty’s shoulder. “Don’t throw her away because you’re conflating your feelings about Garrett’s death with this situation. You’re not responsible for the actions of other people. You’re only responsible for your own.”
His own actions had likely destroyed whatever chance he’d had with Paisley. “I was an asshole.”
“I’m sure you were. Just as I’m sure she’ll forgive you for it once you’ve appropriately groveled.”
Something ballooned in his chest. It took him a minute to recognize it for what it was. Hope.
Was Harrison right? Did he stand a chance of having her forgive him even after everything he’d said, all the pulling away and hot and cold routine? Only one way to find out. Ty dug out his wallet and threw money on the bar. As he slid off the stool, the room promptly dipped.
Harrison’s arm slipped around him. “Whoa there. Gotcha.”
“I need to go apologize for all the things.” And then maybe he could underscore all of those apologies with orgasms. She liked those. Maybe that was his new mission. Seemed like a way better one than what he’d been on.
Harrison began to steer him across the scarred wood floor toward the door. “I think you need to sober up first. I’m not gonna dump your ass on Paisley to take care of in this condition. We’re going back to my place so you can sleep it off.”
“We can brainstorm how I should grovel.”
He tugged open the door. “I’m sure Ivy will be full of ideas.”
Chapter 13
Paisley went from sleep to wakefulness in an instant, knowing even before she reached for the other side of the bed that the warm presence there was Duke instead of Ty.
He hadn’t come back after storming out last night.
Maybe she shouldn’t have expected him to, but she’d gotten a brief text from Harrison saying that he was safe, and she’d thought, once he had a chance to calm down, he’d work his way around to apologizing. Or, at the very least, showing up for guard duty. He was the one so determined that she needed a bodyguard.
But he hadn’t used those stealthy Ranger skills to sneak into her bed. She didn’t know what that meant. They’d rarely fought when they were young, and nothing so serious as this. There was no precedent to give her any clue what to think or do.
Except, maybe there was. Their biggest fight before was about him going into the Army, and that hadn’t even really been a fight so much as him making up his mind and telling her. He was a stubborn bastard when he wanted to be. If he’d truly convinced himself that he was no hero, that he wasn’t worthy, that he’d failed, nothing she could say was going to change his mind. She hadn’t been able to to convince him not to leave her then. Why should now be any different?
A wave of fresh grief had tears burning in her eyes as she wondered how long it would take him to just come right out and say they were through?
When her phone rang, she lunged for it. But it wasn’t Ty. Of course, it wasn’t Ty. He’d left his phone last night when he’d stormed out. It was Caleb.
“Hey. Sorry to call so early, but I thought you’d want to hear this sooner rather than later. My brother, Mateo, is a former MMA fighter. He owns a gym now and has an apartment he keeps for helping domestic violence victims escape their a
busers. It’s open at the moment, and he says it’s all yours, if you want it.”
Paisley considered. Was she really going to leave? In the heat of the moment last night, she’d been determined to. Now… Could she really stay, knowing they were over and just waiting for the other shoe to drop? Having to endure that awful, painful emotional distance from him, knowing he was only still in her life because she was a case? She didn’t even know if she’d have that. Ty had made it perfectly clear her situation was too much for him. She’d never intended to involve him in the first place. This would at least give her another option until she figured out what to do, and maybe it was a good idea to go to someone she had no connection to. She’d be harder to track that way.
“I’ll take it.”
“Great, I’ll text you the information. When do you think you’re coming?”
“As soon as I can get everything in my car.” There were still things of hers at Ty’s, but she’d get them sometime later. Right now, she needed distance from him.
She packed, quick and efficient. A part of her regretted the loss of a slow, relaxed morning that included breakfast from Athena Reynolds Maxwell, the award-winning chef sister who ran the kitchens of The Misfit Inn. But she needed to act. Too much of the past weeks had been spent in limbo, waiting for someone else to make a move. So, she hauled her things downstairs and out to her car, not even making a pass through the dining room for coffee. She’d pick some up on the road.
As she grabbed up the last of her stuff, she considered leaving a note of some kind for Ty. But what was she going to say? Leaving nothing, she shut the door. The room was in his name, so there wasn’t even a need to properly check out.
“C’mon, Duke.”
He trailed her downstairs and out the front door.
“You’re leaving?”
The question came from Ari Bohannon. Pru’s sixteen-year-old daughter was curled in one of the many chairs on the wrap-around porch. They’d bonded over romance Paisley’s first night here. The girl reminded her so much of herself at that age. Full of cheerful, unwavering belief in love. And why shouldn’t she be? She was surrounded on all sides by real-life examples in her parents and all of her aunts and their spouses. It was inspiring, really. Paisley had made a joke herself about what was in the water and inadvertently birthed a plot bunny about a hidden spring that made people fall in love. She and Ari had plotted half of it out the other day, which had proved a wonderful distraction. Paisley really hoped nothing destroyed the girl’s romanticism. Contrary to Ty’s opinion, the world needed more romantics.
“Yeah.”
“Did Ty and Xander find the bad guy?”
“Um, no. Not as far as I know.” And it said a lot about her headspace that she was less worried about the stalker and more worried about Ty at the moment.
“Are you going back home?”
Did the girl mean Nashville or Ty’s? Did it matter? “I’ve imposed on y’all long enough.” Which wasn’t really an answer, she knew.
“You’re not an imposition. You’re a guest! That’s what we’re all about.”
Her lips curved. “Spoken like a true innkeeper’s daughter. But I do have to go. Someone’s expecting me.” Opening the door to the backseat, she shoved in Duke’s dog bed and arranged it for the trip.
The girl was frowning when Paisley turned back around. “Are you and Ty okay?”
The question surprised her.
“I know it’s none of my business, I just...” Ari pressed her lips together, as if to bite back the words. Paisley arched a brow and the girl burst out. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I heard y’all’s fight last night, and then he left and hasn’t come back, and this totally feels like the point for a dark period intervention.”
Torn between a desire to laugh and cry, Paisley worked up a smile. “You’re so much like I used to be, it’s scary.” She tossed her purse onto the front seat. “Sadly, real life doesn’t adhere to scripted plot points. Doesn’t mean that love’s not worth it, but sometimes the timing is off. Or the other person might have a bigger wound than you know what to do with. Sometimes they need a wakeup call.” And sometimes love isn’t enough.
Ari frowned. “I’m going on record saying that this is a mistake.”
“Noted.” Paisley wasn’t sure that it wasn’t. But she didn’t think there was a right move here. “It was cool to meet you Ari. I’ll come back sometime, and we can hang. Maybe do some more plotting.”
“I’d love that.”
Paisley whistled. “C’mon, Duke. Time to go!”
But the dog didn’t come immediately bounding over to the car at the magic word.
“Duke! Here boy.”
Still, no jangle of tags or scrabble of paws.
“What has he gotten into? I swear to God, if he found something dead to roll in…”
She marched around the house, calling his name. Ari fell in with her. But by the time they’d circled the perimeter, there was no Duke. No barking. No sign of her beloved dog. Alarm overtook annoyance. “Where is he?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find him,” Ari assured her. “He probably just chased a bunny or something. I’ll round up some more people to help look.”
While she disappeared into the house, Paisley made another circuit in a wider circle, into the edge of the woods surrounding the property. Why couldn’t it have rained or snowed recently so there were convenient paw prints leading her to her recalcitrant dog? More to the point, why had he wandered off? He hadn’t pulled the escape artist routine since she’d first gotten him. Not since she’d stopped trying to put him in a crate. Maybe he was too overwhelmed by the fun and interesting stuff to sniff that they didn’t have at home in the city.
A distant sound carried on the wind. Was that a bark?
“Duke!”
The sound came again. Definitely a bark.
Was he stuck somewhere? Taking off in the direction she thought she’d heard him, she shouted again, course correcting deeper into the woods. The bark was closer this time. Relief surged through her. He wasn’t gone, and he didn’t sound distressed. He’d just wandered too far and gotten into something.
Abruptly the sound cut off.
“Duke?”
Nothing.
There were cliffs around here. Caves. Hell, even bears. Her city-born dog was not prepared for any of that. Anxiety mounting again, Paisley ran faster, frantically scanning for a flash of tawny fur.
Something caught her shins, and she tumbled headlong into the dead leaves and dirt. Breathless from the impact, for a moment, she could only lie there, hands stinging. On a wheeze, she started to roll over and caught a flash of movement to the left.
She didn’t even have time to draw breath for a scream before the figure in black was on her, wrenching her arms backward and pressing her into the ground. Adrenaline surged, and she tried to buck him off, but the knee in her back kept her pinned, her limbs flailing uselessly. Something sharp jabbed her in the hip. A needle? What the hell was he injecting her with?
Even as she could feel darkness creeping in, Paisley struggled to turn her head, to see her attacker. But all she could take in was a smear of clay across the toe of his dark brown hiking boots in the incongruous shape of a cross. Then there was nothing at all.
“Get up.”
A snapping voice cut through the questionable oblivion of sleep. As the sound tunneled through to Ty’s brain, with it came awareness of pain. Instinctively, he fought to stay under, shrinking away from inevitable agony.
“Get up, damn it!”
“Honey, what are you—”
Something struck him. A solid but…soft? something. Not hard enough to really hurt but sufficient impact to drag him through another layer toward consciousness.
“If he’s not up in the next thirty seconds, I’m hitting him with my stun gun instead of a pillow.”
What the actual hell is going on?
Ty cracked his eyes open enough to catch a glimpse of an irate Ivy in the
doorway before the slanting sunlight through the window forced him to slam them shut again. “I’m awake,” he rasped.
“Harrison, go get him some pain killers. He doesn’t deserve them, but he’s going to need them.”
For what? A dressing down? Like she could rival the drill sergeants he’d put up with in the Army? “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“Do you actually want to loll around and give Paisley a chance to decide to leave your ass, or do you want to fix this?”
Ty jack-knifed into an upright position and regretted it as the room spun on an unsteady axis. He gritted his teeth against the nausea. “What do you mean leave? She can’t leave.”
“She can and probably will if you don’t do some serious damage control.”
“Fuck.” He vaulted out of bed, staggered and slapped a hand against the wall to steady himself. “Where’s my phone?”
Harrison shrugged. “Must be in your truck up at the bar or back at the inn. Wasn’t on you when we got back last night.”
Ty couldn’t get his brain to work as he tried to assess whether he was just hung over or still drunk. His head pounded like a helicopter blade was thrumming in his ears, and his eyes ached, but now that he was vertical, things were starting to stabilize. Not still drunk, then. This was what he got for drinking more than a beer for the first time in a year and a half and picking rot gut whiskey to do it.
“Shit. I didn’t even text her where I was last night.”
“I did. And I did you a solid by not mentioning you’d decided to take yourself on a bender.”
“Thanks, man.” He didn’t need any further evidence of his weakness paraded in front of her. Willing himself steady, he took a few steps toward the door.
Ivy wrinkled her nose. “No matter what kind of apology you manage, Paisley isn’t going to want to take you back if you smell like a distillery and look like something she scraped off her shoe. Get in the shower. I’ll get you something of Harrison’s to wear.”