Thrill of Love

by Melissa Foster

  She didn’t know how long they lay there making out, but when Charlotte said, “Okay, you can move now,” their mouths parted, leaving her dizzy with desire.

  Ty brought her up to a sitting position with him, his lustful eyes locked on hers. She could barely breathe.

  “Holy cow,” Charlotte said as she came around the desk. “You two are going to set my office on fire.”

  “Sorry,” they said in unison.

  Ty’s lips curved up in a sexy smile. Aiyla wasn’t sorry. Not in the least. And when Ty leaned down and kissed her cheek, then whispered, “Let’s go set our room on fire,” she couldn’t scramble to her feet fast enough.

  Charlotte made Ty promise to give Aiyla her email address so they could chat when he was “less hot and bothered,” and she all but tossed them out of the office with the excuse that she had to meet her deadline.

  Ty and Aiyla made out the whole way back to their room, barely making it through the door before they tore off each other’s clothes. They fell to the bed in a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses.

  “If that got you this hot,” she said between kisses, “I need to buy a blow-up doll.”

  He grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head, gazing at her with a dark expression. “You buy a blow-up doll and I swear you’ll find him hanging by a noose.”

  Her heart was so full of him, as much as she was flattered by his jealousy, she didn’t want to be the cause of that type of hurt, even if joking. With a laugh, she said, “You have me, Ty. All of me. I don’t want any other man, plastic or real.”

  “I’ve waited so long to hear that. Tell me again.”

  “I love you. Only you.” In his eyes she saw more love than she ever imagined possible, and when his lips met hers and their bodies came together, she said it again and again, until she knew he’d hear it in his sleep.

  THEY SHOWERED—AGAIN—and hurried out of the resort to the awards ceremony, which was already in progress. Sponsorship banners flapped in the breeze, surrounding a crowd of competitors and spectators. Colorful flags hung above a portable podium, where Eric James, the founder of the Foundation for Whole Families, and Parker Collins, the founder of the Parker Children’s Foundation, were being photographed and presented with enormous cardboard checks representing the money raised for their foundations. Ty held Aiyla’s hand as they joined the others.

  “Where have you guys been?” Trixie asked. Her ankle was wrapped, and she was leaning on a crutch that had the name of the resort on the side. “You missed breakfast.”

  “No, we didn’t.” Ty winked at Aiyla, and her cheeks flushed.

  “You also missed the singles awards,” Trixie said. “You won first place for the bike race, Ty.”

  “Don’t worry. They just slipped in my name instead,” Jon teased, and handed Ty a blue ribbon. “Congrats, dude.”

  “Thanks for grabbing it for me.”

  “No problem.” Jon’s gaze turned serious, morphing seamlessly from jokester to concerned physician as he turned his attention to Aiyla. “How’s your leg, sweetheart?”

  “It’s not too bad today. Thanks for asking.” She leaned into Ty and said, “He’s been spoiling me rotten with lots of leg love.”

  “Good man,” Jon said. “I checked with my office and penciled you in for an appointment late Friday afternoon. Can you work that into your schedule?”

  “I hate to waste your time,” she said. “Maybe we should give it a few days—”

  “We can, and we will, make time Friday afternoon,” Ty said firmly. Softening his tone, he added, “Better safe than sorry, especially since you’re either coming with me on the climbing trip or we’re going to New Zealand. Either way, we need to know what’s going on with your leg.”

  “I can’t wait to travel together,” she said.

  He knew she was trying to change the subject. “Good. Then we need to get your leg checked out, because we have big plans.”

  “We do, do we?”

  “I was thinking about it.” He tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. She looked so pretty, she glowed. She looked…loved. “New Zealand is, what? An eight- or ten-week commitment, right?”

  “About that.”

  “But if we go on the climbing trip, it’s only four weeks. Then we can take some time and visit with your sister and nephews, who I definitely need to meet.”

  “You do?” Surprise rose in her eyes.

  “Yes. I need to connect with the woman who helped raise my incredible girlfriend, and her boys are probably in desperate need of a little crazy adventure time.” He leaned down for a kiss.

  “Can you clone yourself, please?” Trixie asked. “But make the clone a cowboy.”

  “I told you, darlin’, I’ll wear leather chaps.” Jon draped an arm over her shoulder. “Think about it. You. Me. Naked. On the back of a horse.”

  Trixie rolled her eyes. “Sex on a horse. Only you…You need to take notes from Ty.”

  Ty laughed and continued telling Aiyla about his thoughts on their upcoming travels. “After visiting your sister, I thought we’d head to Portugal to see Ms. F and hit a few of the villages you wanted to see. While we’re there, we can plan our trip to South Africa for early next year.”

  Aiyla’s eyes widened. “You really have thought this out, but that’ll take every penny I have saved plus a lot more if I’m not working in between trips.”

  “I’ve got you covered, baby cakes.” When she opened her mouth to complain, he silenced her with a kiss.

  He wrapped her in his arms and said, “You have places you want to go. I want you with me. That’s called compromise.”

  “Hey, Romeo and Juliet,” Jon said. “They just announced you two as the winners of the couples’ rafting race. Sorry, dude, but I can’t accept the ribbon for you this time.”

  “Thanks. We’ve got this. Come on, babe.” Ty took Aiyla’s hand, and they headed up to the podium. “Let’s go collect the first of what is sure to be many wins as a couple.”

  AFTER COLLECTING THEIR ribbons and standing for pictures with the rest of the winners, Trixie and Aiyla pulled out their phones, insisting on getting their own pictures. Ty asked a woman standing nearby to take a few of all four of them, and after, she took some of just Ty and Aiyla. Ty looked forward to having hundreds of pictures of the two of them, taken all over the world. Aiyla and Trixie exchanged phone numbers so they could get together in between Ty and Aiyla’s travels, and then they shared so many hugs, Ty didn’t think they’d ever get on the road.

  Hours later, Ty pulled into Aiyla’s apartment complex and parked in front of her building. On the way home, she’d sent an email to her contact at the New Zealand resort, explaining that she wouldn’t be able to come out after all, and she called her sister to let her know she was heading to Maryland. They talked for almost an hour, and though Ty tried not to eavesdrop, he enjoyed hearing Aiyla tell her sister, Remember Ty Braden? The giggles and cryptic answers that followed told him she’d shared something about their time together in Saint-Luc.

  He came around the car and helped her out. “Careful. Your leg is probably going to be stiff.”

  “It is a little, but it’ll stretch out. I should warn you, my place is pretty sparse.”

  “I should remind you”—he brushed the tip of his nose along her cheek—“I don’t have a place of my own.”

  “You mean no place of your own in Peaceful Harbor?” she asked as he grabbed her bags from the trunk.

  He shook his head. “Anywhere. I’ve never found a reason to buy one. I spend most of my time on the road.” He slung her bags over his shoulder and followed her up to her apartment. Her limp was more pronounced, and he was glad Jon was going to do a full workup tomorrow. “When I’m home, I like to catch up with my family, and staying with them kills two birds with one stone. I usually stay with one of my brothers, but now that all my siblings have significant others, I hate to intrude on their privacy. If you don’t mind, I made arrangements for us to stay with my parents.�
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  “That makes sense. I’m fine with staying with your parents,” she said as she unlocked the door. “I’ve had this apartment forever. It’s close to the resorts where I used to work and close to the airport.”

  He followed her inside and closed the door behind them, taking in her cozy one-bedroom in a quick glance. A champagne-colored couch sat against the far wall, covered with bright throw pillows. A simple wooden coffee table was littered with travel magazines. On a shelf beneath he spied copies of a few of her books. Across the room there was a kitchen alcove beside a fireplace. On the other side of the fireplace was Aiyla’s bedroom. Her mattress sat on the floor, covered with earth-toned blankets and a plethora of colorful pillows.

  We really were made for each other.

  He’d gotten rid of his bedframe when he was a teenager and had never missed it.

  He turned, and his gaze caught on the walls behind them. Nearly every inch was covered with photographs—black-and-whites, colors, sepia—featuring faces of the elderly. He set her bags down, drawn in by the beauty and the energy emanating from the images.

  “Baby” was all he could manage as he stared at the pictures. He felt like he was in a museum. He wanted to touch each photograph—each person—and hear their stories. Aiyla had an eye for capturing the very essence of people. He took in one picture after another, slowing to examine deep-set eyes beneath bushy, unkempt brows and a frayed gray woolen cap. The man looked like a New England fisherman. His face was dark and aged as worn leather, his lips lost inside a thick, wiry white mustache and beard. Hanging crooked from a thumbtack beside that picture was a black-and-white image of a woman with dark creases above tiny, too-far-apart eyes and a toothless, joyful smile. Several beaded chokers circled her long neck, and enormous plates hung in her stretched earlobes. There were dozens of pictures of elderly men and women staring blankly, intensely focused, or casually, into the lens, begging to be seen. Small, round, tired eyes of an older Asian woman gazed up from beneath a giant cone-shaped straw hat. Wispy strands of black and gray hair framed her puckered lips and crow’s-feet. The ball of her cheeks looked oddly soft and taut, like mountain peaks among rivers of wrinkles. She was missing an arm and half of her jaw. Ty squinted to take a better look.

  “She was from Hoi An, Vietnam.”

  “Aiyla, these are magnificent. I own every one of your books and I haven’t seen any of these pictures before.”

  “These are my favorites. I don’t share them with the world.”

  He turned to face her, and his attention was drawn to a single framed photograph hanging behind her, surrounded by others held in place with colorful thumbtacks—pictures of the two of them in Saint-Luc.

  She shrugged shyly, a sweet smile lifting her lips.

  He crossed the room in rapt silence. She’d captured him walking away in the spray of a streetlight, snow dusting his shoulders, scarf, and knit cap. The world seemed to be moving at a fast pace around him, out of focus. Despite the blurriness of his surroundings, he recognized the telltale rounding of his shoulders as he’d walked away from her their last night in Saint-Luc. His chest constricted with the memory of how much it had hurt to leave her, not knowing if he’d ever see her again. He took in the surrounding pictures. Happier pictures. Pictures of two people in love, embracing in their winter coats and gloves, his arm outstretched as he held the camera. Her voice sailed through his memory, Take one with my phone! Beneath that picture were several more from Saint-Luc. The two of them cuddled beneath a blanket, snow falling like blessings around them, their eyes locked on each other. She wore a red hat, and he wore a black one. In another picture, they were sticking out their tongues, and in yet another, making silly faces, and one had been taken midkiss.

  Emotions bubbled up inside him. He reached for her, and she came willingly into his arms, returning his embrace.

  “Stalkerish?” she asked.

  He couldn’t even muster a laugh. It was all he could do to tip up her chin and kiss her. “You’ve always been mine, just like I’ve always been yours.”

  Chapter Twelve

  AIYLA HAD NEVER minded flying, but she was nervous about meeting Ty’s family, tired from the grueling charity challenge, and it seemed no matter how she sat, her leg hurt worse than it had before, which caused her to fidget and shift in her seat.

  “Baby, come here.” Ty guided her onto his lap.

  “I can’t sit here,” she said, feeling a little silly.

  Ignoring her comment, he lifted her legs over the armrest, cradling her safely and lovingly against him, the same way he’d done a hundred other gentle, caring things since they’d come back together. He plugged earbuds into his phone and put one in her ear, one in his own.

  “Better?” He planted a kiss on her lips, replacing her mild embarrassment with a sense of belonging exactly where she was. “I’ve got you, babe,” he reassured her. “Close your eyes and try to rest.”

  She must have fallen right to sleep, because the next thing she knew, he was waking her up to climb back into her seat and prepare for landing. How did he know what she needed better than she did? And when had she begun needing anyone?

  Ty held her hand as he drove to his parents’ house, and when she began nervously fidgeting again, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. She realized that letting Ty reassure her, letting him take care of her and love her, wasn’t a sign of her becoming needy at all. It was confirmation of how much she trusted him.

  “You okay?” He parked in front of an enormous Victorian house with a wraparound porch and gingerbread trim along the peak. The lawn was perfectly manicured. Beautiful gardens lined the walkway up to the front door. The house looked strong and stable, like Ty.

  Her stomach churned. “Yeah, I am.”

  Ty leaned across the seat and cupped the back of her neck, drawing her closer. “I love you. They’ll love you.”

  He pressed his lips to hers, drew away, and came back for more, taking the kiss deeper and practically crawling over the console to hold her. Greedy sounds slipped from his lungs as his hands pushed into her hair, refocusing her nervous energy into heat and excitement. Could they stay right there, kissing until morning?

  A knock sounded on the window, and Aiyla jumped. Ty groaned and glared at a pretty brunette peering through the glass. Aiyla recognized her as Ty’s younger sister, Shannon, from pictures he had shown her in Saint-Luc. Shannon had Ty’s mischievous eyes and a hundred-kilowatt smile. Behind her stood a tall, handsome man with brown hair as shaggy as Ty’s. Steve.

  The door opened and she leaned in. “Geez, Ty. Let the girl breathe, will you? Hi. You must be Aiyla. I’m Shannon, Ty’s sister.” She patted the man’s hand resting on her shoulder and said, “This is my fiancé, Grizz, but most people call him Steve.”

  “How’s it going?” Steve said with a friendly smile.

  “Hi,” Aiyla said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Hey, sis. Hey, Steve.” Ty stole another kiss from Aiyla and lowered his voice. “I forgot to tell you they were staying here, too.”

  “It’s fine. I want to meet your family.”

  Shannon reached for Aiyla’s hand and helped her from the car. “I heard your leg was giving you trouble and you still kicked ass in the race.”

  “I don’t know about kicking ass, but your brother is amazing. Without him, I’d have had to quit.”

  “Don’t let her fool you. Quit is not in her vocabulary. She only let me help her because I refused not to let her.” Ty came around the car and pulled Steve into a manly embrace. “We won the couples rafting race.”

  “That’s awesome.” Shannon put an arm around Aiyla and said, “You can lean on me on the way inside and tell me all about how you and Ty met in Saint-Luc.”

  “Shan,” Ty warned.

  Shannon laughed. “If he thinks I’m not going to be nosy when he brings a woman home for the first time, he has another thing coming.”

  Aiyla was nervous again, but she loved Shannon’s outgoing pe
rsonality. She glanced over her shoulder at Ty, and he blew her a kiss. He and Steve followed them toward the house, carrying their bags.

  As they ascended the porch steps, the front door opened and a dark-haired man stepped out, his head held high, serious dark eyes gazing down at them. A blond woman with a mass of curls followed him out and gasped, bringing a smile to the man’s face, softening all his sharp edges.

  “You’re here!” The woman reached for Aiyla, hugging her as tight as Aiyla’s own mother would. “What a pleasure it is to meet you. I’m Maisy, Ty’s mother, and this is Ace, Ty’s father.”

  His father opened his arms and embraced her warmly. “Welcome to our home, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you for allowing me to visit and crash your daughter’s wedding.”

  “We’re thrilled you could make it,” Maisy said as she pulled Ty into a hug.

  “Hi, Mom.” Ty kissed her cheek. “Sorry we got in so late.”

  “Oh, baby. We wouldn’t care if it was three in the morning. All that matters is you’re home safe and you’ve brought beautiful Aiyla with you.” Maisy put her arm around Aiyla, guiding her into the house as Ty embraced his father. She led Aiyla into a lovely living room with two big sofas, comfy-looking chairs, and a mix of eclectic art pieces and pretty throw blankets. An ornate mantel held a number of framed family photos, and across the room were glass doors overlooking the ocean. The whole thing—his family’s warm welcome, the peaceful, homey room, and the magnificent view—took her breath away.

  “Are you hungry?” Maisy asked. “Thirsty? Do you need to elevate your leg?”

  “I’m fine, thank you. Does everyone know about my leg?” she asked, and just as quickly realized how close Ty’s family was. Of course they’d all know.