by Stuart, Amie
With a silent nod, Tim left, closing the door behind him.
I couldn’t even bring myself to look at Ty.
"I came to cook you breakfast in bed."
That got my attention. I looked. His cheeks were red from the cold. His hair practically stood on end, and he looked all rough in his jeans and flannels with a day’s growth of beard on his face.
"I have a real problem with other people knowing my business, Ty."
"I only told Tim because I needed advice. He won't tell anyone."
No one had ever brought me breakfast in bed before.
Ty stepped down into the living room and knelt at my feet. He smelled like outside and I wanted to bury my face in his hair, his neck, and kiss on him. "Why didn’t you tell me about your run-in with Jessa?"
"I thought we were discussing this morning."
"We will. But first...why didn’t you tell me?"
"I’m just used to handling things." I’d be handling things since I was eight. "And I didn’t want to make waves. We’d only been married two days. I’m the outsider—"
"You’re my wife. And it’s my job to take care of you." He squeezed my fingers and kissed my hand. "I’m sorry about this morning. From the bottom of my heart, I am so very, very sorry, Bettina."
"Sorry isn’t enough, Ty." I was the mother of his child, but I wanted so much more. Maybe I wanted too much. But he wasn’t gettin’ off that easy. I struggled catch my breath and finish what I had to say. "You hurt me, Ty. You promised to try and make this work and I don’t feel like you’ve lived up to that promise."
"You are my wife, the mother of my child, and you mean the absolute and complete world to me. I don’t want you thinking you made a mistake. And I don’t want you to have regrets. Please believe me—"
"—I don’t! I don’t believe you, Ty! You hurt me more than you could possibly imagine this morning."
"I saw her...last night after you left the bar."
Suddenly I felt sick and I wanted to scream at him to shut up. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I didn’t want to hear about That Bitch.
"I have these nightmares...about her. And I had one this morning...then you woke me up when you...this is so fucking asinine!" He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked up at me. "I don’t want her!"
I couldn’t believe I’d heard him right. My heart stopped, then slowly started back up again. I waited while he took a couple deep breaths, wondering if he’d say more.
"You, Bettina...I will always give you my very best. I swear...on my life. But please don’t leave me." He dropped his head in my lap but he didn’t cry. I did.
I was such a fool. I wanted to believe him so badly, and there was every chance this would come back to bite me in the ass, but I was already in so deep, I’m not sure it mattered anymore.
"Do you mean it?" I leaned over and whispered in his ear.
"With all my heart."
I kissed his cheek and cradled his head. "Can I tell you something?"
"Do I want to hear this?" he whispered back.
"I think you do." My fingers glided through his hair as I searched for just the right way to say I love you without actually saying it. Saying the "L" word goes back to rule number ten. "No one has ever made me feel like you do, Ty."
"Swear?"
"Swear." I lifted his chin and kissed him, this time sliding my tongue past his lips. We had some making up to do. Ty pulled back and studied me, his hands stroking my cheeks. "I’m so sorry Bee—Bettina."
"You can call me Bee, but no one else." I took his fingers in my hand and kissed them, then stood and led him to the bedroom.
"Where’d you go?" I asked, unbuttoning his shirt.
"For a ride. Do you ride?"
"Only you," I replied with a watery laugh. He gave me an embarrassed chuckle, his cheeks turning crimson. His fingers tangled in my knotted hair as he pulled me to him. I pushed the soft flannel off his shoulders and wriggled his undershirt free of his jeans. His chest and stomach were hard and smooth under my hands, but it wasn’t sex I wanted.
What did I want? My mind was nearly as tangled up as my hair.
"Bee." It came out a soft, low hiss, as he unsnapped my bra. We quickly finished undressing and Ty stood staring at me.
So much for my nightgown. "What?"
"You’re just so beautiful."
No man had ever called me beautiful before. Hot, sexy, wild maybe. But not beautiful and never so sincerely.
"Do you...remember?" He eyed my belly. "The night we—" A smile crept across his face.
"Made the baby in my living room," I finished for him with a smile of my own.
"Yeah." His fingers trailed across my upper arms, making me wish I could purr. "You feel so soft, Bee. So good," he crooned.
I leaned into him, shivering at the feel of his hands on my back. This was what I wanted. This soft, warm feeling in the pit of my stomach that scared me and made me want to howl with laughter all at the same time.
"Do I talk too much?"
"Oh, no, baby," I whispered against his skin.
"Wait." Ty pulled the sheets back and propped some pillows against the headboard.
"Now." He nodded, his eyes on my breasts.
I lay in the spot he’d made and curled on my side, crooking a finger at him. He stretched out beside me, and we lay face to face.
"Roll over."
I quirked a brow and he nodded, so I did. He pulled me against him, spoon fashion, and just touched me and crooned to me and sang to me. It sounded like "Drift Off To Dream".
No matter how hard, I tried I couldn’t stay awake.
* * *
"Did you call Cassi," he murmured against my ear.
We stood at the stove, scrambling eggs together and smooching like the newlyweds we were.
"Yeah, she’ll be here at two with George."
"I thought you were canceling."
"I forgot, I can’t. They’re delivering the baby furniture Monday."
"Baby furniture." The hands that had been kneading my shoulders stopped.
"Yeah." With a smile, I handed him the spatula, leaving the eggs in his capable hands. "For the nursery, silly."
"He can go to Tim’s with me and watch the football game with us."
"George doesn’t watch football. I’ve got to get groceries before they come. We’re out of everything."
"Doesn’t watch football?" Ty set the two plates of scrambled eggs on the counter beside me and we stood waiting on the toast to finish.
"He’s...not very athletic, and he tends to ignore what he’s not good at, but he’s a sweet kid." I gave him a reassuring pat and snatched the warm toast from the toaster. "Ty?"
"Hmm? You want juice?" He leaned against the counter beside me, picking at the eggs on his own plate.
"Please. Is there anything in particular you don’t like?" I carried both plates to the table, then went back for silverware.
"What do you mean, is there anything I don’t like?" He looked at me over the open refrigerator door.
"Food. Brands. Things like that." I took a bite of my eggs and nearly moaned in pleasure. Damn he made good eggs.
"Brands?"
"Some people like Miracle Whip and some like mayonnaise."
"Mayo."
"Margarine or Butter?"
"What’s the difference?" He placed a glass of orange juice in front of me and sat in his own chair.
"Never mind," I replied with a grin. I’d just do the best I could and learn from trial and error.
"No, what’s the difference?"
"Preference. Some people like Parkay and others prefer—" Then I caught the grin on his face and snorted with laughter. "Ty Boudreaux, you’re teasing me."
He grinned, a forkful of eggs in his hand. I stood and two steps later was firmly settled on his lap.
"You’re gonna starve me to death." He wrapped his arms around me.
"I couldn’t do that now, could I?" I asked between kisses.
"I will eat wh
atever you put in front of me, sweetheart."
"Whatever?" I grinned and a wiggled my eyebrows.
Ty’s cheeks turned pink, and I laughed as I slid off his lap and back into my own chair.
Chapter Twenty
DO YOU WANT FRIES WITH THAT?
Grocery list in hand, Bettina kissed him goodbye and left for the store. He still had to tell her about the abuse but worry was now tempered with relief, embarrassment and smugness.
Relief because she’d forgiven him. She hadn’t yelled. She hadn’t hit, or ranted or raved. Despite her obvious and well-deserved anger. Deep down inside he recognized he’d crossed a huge hurdle—their first real fight—and felt pretty proud of himself.
Smugness at her obvious pleasure earlier this morning—even if they hadn’t made love. He might not love Bettina but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel anything for her. He actually felt quite a lot, even if he couldn’t put it into words.
Embarrassment over how she made him feel like a horny teenager with his first real girlfriend. Speaking of which, he needed to talk to Tim real soon about the birds and bees...and honey. He chuckled, remembering the one time he’d gotten a taste of her.
Ty started the dishwasher, gearing up to tackle the laundry next when the front door slammed.
"What the hell is that music?" Zack asked, pushing open the swinging door.
"Bettina left it on." It sounded foreign, exotic, and Ty kinda liked it.
"Huh, interesting. Aunt Susie gave strict instructions last night for us to call Zander and twist his arm about Thanksgiving—and you have a speaker phone."
"Where’s Tim?" Ty wiped down the counters and dried the skillet he’d set on the stove.
"He’s coming. Jessa was gonna walk down with me to apologize, but Bettina’s car is gone."
"She went for groceries."
"I’m sorry about last night, man."
With a sigh, Ty turned and faced his baby brother. "It’s not your place to apologize."
"I meant for the interference in general. You were right. I know it’s not my place, but we’ve all been worried...about your marriage and you."
"Why? I’ve known Bettina longer than you knew Jessa." Ty folded his arms and leaned against the counter. "I am a grown man, and it’s damn well time I acted like one, okay? I appreciate everyone’s very obvious concern, but Bettina and I have—" he searched for the right words as the front door slammed again and Tim joined them in the kitchen. "We’ve made a commitment to this marriage and our baby. We’re trying! How many times do I have to say it? This ain’t nothing like being married to Rhea."
"So ya’ll got everything all patched up?" Tim helped himself to coffee while Zack wanted to know what they’d had to patch up.
Big mouth. "We had an argument. Don’t you and Jessa ever fight?" He wasn’t up to explaining his nightmares or his sexual screw-up to one more person. "You know, Rhea and I didn’t talk, ‘cause talkin’ with her didn’t do no good. I can talk to Bettina." And tease, and play and snuggle and have wild, incredible, mind-blowing, heart-stopping sex.
Tim smiled, raising his cup in a toast.
Zack nodded in agreement and sighed. "Let’s get this over with."
They headed for the speakerphone on the living room sofa table. Ty dialed, the phone rang and the answering machine picked up. After it beeped, they shouted, "Get up!"
A few clicks, a dropped phone and a mumbled, "Hello," filled the living room.
"Kick that blonde outta your bed," Tim teased.
Ty chuckled. When it came to women, Zander had always ranked a close second to Tim. He also had a horrible weakness for blondes. Of course, so did Ty.
"Ain’t no blond in this bed," Zander growled.
Ty could have sworn he heard sheets rustling and what sounded like a baby crying cut off by a door closing. He frowned up at Zack who just shrugged. "Yeah, right."
"She’s cookin’ him breakfast," Tim said with a chuckle.
"I’m all alone. Now, what the hell do y’all want?"
"I have a message from Aunt Susie." Zack sat in on the arm of the couch while Tim perched on the coffee table.
"Which is?"
"Get your ass home," Zack said.
"Go to hell! I’m busy."
"No don’t cut it, Zander. Hell, you’ve missed both your brother’s weddings." Tim sipped his coffee and eyed Ty.
Ty added his own two cents. "That’s bullshit, and you know it."
"Kiss my ass, Tyrell."
"Big city boy’s turnin’ into a punk," Ty said with a snort.
"Hey, screw you. You assholes called here and woke me up, not the other way around."
"That’s what you get for sleeping in, lazy ass."
"Fuck you, too, Zack."
Tim waved his hands in the air, motioning for the floor, and moved to sit next to Ty. As if being closer to the speaker would help change Zander’s mind. "Momma wants to see you."
"You haven’t been home in two years," Ty scolded. And they’d had to twist his arm then, too. He’d just moved to Dallas and couldn’t use distance as an excuse like he had when he lived in Georgia.
"And we’ll kidnap your ass, Mr. FBI-Agent-Man, if you don’t come home for Thanksgiving. It’s just as simple as that." Tim’s tone was teasing, but Ty knew, from the frown on his face, he was dead serious.
"Aunt Susie said—" Zack began only to be interrupted by a now-irate Zander.
"I don’t give a damn what Aunt Susie said! This is bullshit!"
"No, you not coming home to meet your new family is bullshit," Zack said. "You have a new sister, two new sisters-in-law, a niece who misses you and a nephew you barely know. Not to mention two babies—"
"Fine! Fine, damnit! I’ll be in Wednesday and I’m staying at Tim’s."
The line went dead.
"What the hell crawled up his ass?" Ty blew out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as he disconnected the call.
"I have no clue." Zack shook his head.
Apparently, Zander hadn’t learned to rein in his white-hot, redheaded temper and that didn’t sound good for Thanksgiving. Or the family.
The change in his father since Delaney had come along, had been incredible. He smiled and laughed three times as much as he ever had before, and even Momma had relaxed—as much as Momma ever could. They teased each other now, and the hard lines around her mouth were gone. Ty didn’t like to think of Zander showing up and rocking the boat.
"Arrogant little shit," Tim muttered. I’ll talk to him when he gets in, since he’s staying with me. Guess I better clean up one of the spare bedrooms."
"Get Rene to do it," Zack teased, attempting to hide a grin behind his fists.
"Hah!"
Ty snickered. Then Tim’s next words sent him into a panic.
"I better head out. I’ve got two horses to finish training by Christmas."
"Hey...Hey, Tim." He sat up, elbows propped on his knees.
"Hey what?" he asked, standing.
"How do you...uhhh." Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He shook his head and sank back on the couch cushions. "Never mind. Forget it."
"No, what?" Tim stood over him, one eyebrow quirked.
"How do you, you know...ah hell." All he wanted was a few pointers. He had to ask someone. He couldn’t ask Bettina, for crying out loud. Ty glanced at Zack from the corner of his eye and took a deep breath.
"O-oral sex," he whispered. "How do you—" Thoroughly embarrassed, he kept his head down, only to jump as coffee spewed across Bettina’s wood coffee table.
Zack snorted and wheezed with laugher, lumbering to his feet. "I’m...I’m sorry, Ty. Oh God, look at the time. I promised Jessa...I gotta go."
"Chicken," Tim yelled out.
Zack’s parting shot from the door entailed something about Tim being the expert in the family.
"Never mind," Ty said, standing. He had to get that coffee off Bettina’s table or she’d have a fit. God, he should have just kept his mouth shut.
"I need to clean Bee’s table off." Ty got a dishrag from the kitchen and quickly mopped up the mess Tim had made.
Tim followed him back into the kitchen. "Before...we get into the particulars of…your question, did you tell her? About the abuse?"
"Not yet." Ty stared out the kitchen window. "I told her I saw Rhea, that I had a nightmare. And, um, that I didn’t want Rhea. She was upset, but like I said earlier, I think we got it all talked out. I’m just not ready to tell her."
"Fine. It’s your choice. Now, do you really not...know how?" His voice trailed off.
"Rhea said it was gross." He kept his head down and very carefully draped the damp dishtowel over the edge of the sink.
"But Bettina?
What about Bettina? He thought about it. About her. About tasting her. Would she like it? Of course, she would. This was the woman who brought them both to climax on the couch last week.
"I understand the basics...I’m not a complete idiot. I just...put me out of my mystery already, would ya?"
Tim sighed. "Alright. Here’s what you do..."
Chapter Twenty-One
GOOD ENOUGH
Teach me to instigate morning sex. What the hell had happened in the middle of my early morning blowjob? He didn’t want That Bitch. But what the hell had That Bitch done to my husband that left him with nightmares? I could only hope that when he was ready to share, he would. At least he’d said he didn’t want to be with her, that he wanted me. But something nagged at me, besides the family interference that had better stop.
I strolled the aisles of H-E-B, filling my basket, my mind going full tilt in all directions over this morning’s events. Then caught myself giggling as the poor sacker—the same one from my run-in with Rhea a few months ago—loaded bags into my car, while keeping a wary eye on me.
God, I hate small towns. But it looked like I wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.
My poor car overflowing with groceries, I headed home. Time to invest in something larger and give up my sports car driving days. Babies and convertibles just didn’t mix. I added it to my mental to-do list.