Slow Burn
Page 10
“Let’s stay naked instead.”
I agree, of course. Like I would ever say no to the idea of gazing upon that luscious body.
I get the steaks started while she makes some guacamole. As the steaks cook, we settle into the red glider with a couple of cold beers.
“It’s so beautiful and peaceful here,” she says, surveying my back yard. She’s right, too. The yard has been rendered golden by the muted light of dusk, my favorite time of day. Not having neighbors within close proximity of your house is great for privacy, but it also means that you don’t have to hear kids shouting, lawn mowers, and all the other noisemakers. I put my arm around Jess and she snuggles up against me, skin on skin, while Beau lies quietly on her side of the glider.
I love this moment, and more importantly, I love this woman.
The steaks are awesome, and it’s almost dark when we finish eating.
“One more beer before you go?” I ask, and Jess nods.
My phone rings from inside the house, and I run in to answer. It’s my mom, and I answer just so I can tell her I’m busy and will call her back soon. Instead, she keeps me talking for at least ten or fifteen minutes. Eventually, I get her to hang up, then I grab those bottles of beer and head to the patio. When I step out onto the patio, I see an astonishing sight.
Jess is dancing in the back yard, just at the edge of the light from the patio, her arms raised to the sky as she slowly twirls around. Surrounding her are dozens—hundreds, perhaps—of fireflies. We’ve had more than the usual amount this year, but tonight it’s crazy how many are out there, floating around Jess’s lovely naked body. Beau is there, too, jumping up and trying to eat any glowing yellow dot within reach.
I stand in the doorway and watch silently. It’s a magical vision, and I don’t want to spoil it by moving. Around and around she goes, her hands reaching out toward the spots of light. Finally, she stopping spinning and looks in my direction.
“Ty, look at them all,” Jess practically squeals with delight. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”
No, I can honestly say I never have. I know this is a moment I’ll always remember, because it’s the exact moment I decide I should ask Jess to marry me.
Chapter 17
Jess
Even though I have to work in the morning, Ty convinces me to spend the night. After the tentative start to our road trip, which was entirely my fault because the thought of Ty having served time in prison freaked me out, the last two nights were blissful. I decided to push all thoughts of him being a former convict out of my mind and tried to refocus on the things that made me fall in love with him.
The sex these last two nights was mind-blowing, even better than what we’ve been having over the last few months, which was pretty spectacular already. I fall asleep in Ty’s bed, and in his arms, happy and physically satisfied.
We wake up early, because I have to be at the Ravencrest Pet Shelter by nine, and I’ll need to stop at home to shower and put on my work clothes. I’m not looking forward to yet another week of working with that bitch, Emily, even if it’s a short week because of my taking Monday off.
Over scrambled eggs and coffee, I decide to try to get Ty to open up about his past.
“Did you ever think about becoming a cop instead of a firefighter?” I ask. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I figure the police would have stricter rules about the hiring of convicted felons.
“Not for a second,” he says. “Too dangerous for me.”
“More dangerous than fighting fires?”
“In many ways, yes. Were you hoping I had some handcuffs lying around somewhere?” His smile is delectably smutty.
“No, dork. Besides, you did just fine with my panties the other night.” I’m trying to keep the conversation light, but I want to guide him into giving me some details. “What did you do between high school and the time you started with LFD?”
“After my one-year college education?” he laughs. “Worked construction for a while. Managed the produce section of a supermarket. Had a bunch of boring jobs that didn’t last long.”
“Did you ever work in Linville before?”
“Not until I joined LFD. Before then, all my jobs were in Wichita.”
“But you came here to visit your dad sometimes, right?”
He looks at me funny. “Yeah, a couple of times a year.”
“Did you ever know a guy named Bobby Moncrief?”
Ty sets his fork down.
“What are you up to?”
Shit.
“Not up to anything. Just wondering.”
“Yeah, I know Bobby, but only because he lived two blocks from me growing up. I see him around town every now and then. What about him?”
Fuck! Now what do I say?
“I was just curious if you knew him. He asked me to senior prom.”
Ty laughs at me. “Hard to imagine a stoner like Bobby Moncrief going to prom.”
“Well, he asked, and I told him no,” I say, trying to work my way out of the lie before I stumble and get caught. I pick up my phone and glance at the time. “Oh, shit. We need to get going.”
The conversation mercifully ends there, but all I’ve established is that Ty knew Bobby Moncrief, the guy Lyle said Ty used to be friends with. That doesn’t do me much good, although it makes it a little clearer that he did commit the crime in question.
As Ty drives me back home, I’m already thinking that maybe I should contact Bobby and ask him what happened back then. I must know, and the sooner the better. I don’t want to continue giving my heart—and my body—to someone who might have an uncertain or problematic future.
***
Ty calls me later that same day to ask if I have plans for Saturday night. The only plans I’ve had on weekends for three months now is to spend them with him, so the question strikes me as odd. He says he’s got a surprise for me, but there’s also an odd tone in his voice, something I’ve never heard in there before. Maybe I’m just imagining it, but I don’t think I am. Could it be that he’s planning on opening up to me about his past? It’s only Tuesday, so I’ll have to wait several days to find out.
In the meantime, I set about trying to track down Bobby Moncrief. It takes me two days, during which I contact a half dozen old high school friends, each one more buried in my past than the last. Eventually, I get some info from a girl I hadn’t seen or spoken to since graduation. She doesn’t have a phone number, just an address where she says Bobby used to live, but I take it because I’m desperate.
Friday after work I head over there, following the directions provided by Google Maps. Expecting a subdivision, or maybe an apartment complex, I’m surprised when I pull up to the entrance of a trailer park called Cedar Estates. I laugh at the idea of trailer homes being “estates,” but I stop laughing when I see the auto parts store near the entrance. Lyle’s words come back to me, about the murder taking place in the trailer park on Division Street “behind the auto parts place.”
Holy shit, this is where it happened. Bobby Moncrief lives here?
I drive down a row of trailers, then back up another row until I see the number. The trailer is dilapidated to the point of possibly being unsafe, and even though I never much cared for Bobby, it makes me sad that his life decisions have led him to this dump.
The tiny front yard is littered with toys, most of them broken, and other assorted pieces of junk. I park in the drive and hear children laughing from inside.
As I exit the car, a dog starts barking loudly and I see a massive pit bull heading in my direction. I quickly jump back in and shut the door, and the dog stands right outside and continues barking.
“ZEUS!”
I look up to see a young blonde woman standing in the open door of the trailer, wearing the harried look of someone who’s been thoroughly beaten down by life. Behind her, two toddlers play on the floor of the dirty trailer.
The dog quiets immediately, but stands there staring with a vicious intensity, sal
iva dripping from his open mouth.
“Can I help you?”
I lower my window enough to talk.
“Hi, I’m looking for Bobby Moncrief.”
She regards me suspiciously. “Bobby ain’t here. He’s working a project over in Bynum Mills. What you want with him?”
“We went to high school together. I wanted to ask him about a friend of his, Tyler Jackson.”
“I don’t know no Tyler Jackson, and I don’t think Bobby does, neither.”
“When will he be home?” I ask. One of the kids peeks out shyly from behind the girl’s legs.
“He’s gone till next week.”
“Okay, maybe I’ll come back then. Sorry to bother you.”
I start the car, then hear her call out, “Hey, what’s your name?”
“Jessica Henson.”
She nods, then retreats inside and shuts the door behind her.
As I drive away, my mind is awash in the concepts of bad circumstances and poor choices, and I feel crushed that Ty somehow found himself so caught up in a bad situation here that he was forced to kill a man to save his own life. It’s almost unfathomable that the man I adore so much was once part of this world.
***
Saturday finally rolls around and I’m on pins and needles about this mysterious surprise Ty has planned for me. Our texts and phone calls this week haven’t given me any clue as to what’s up, but I’ve nevertheless convinced myself that this will be the night he’ll finally tell me about the self-defense murder and his subsequent stint in prison. Maybe once I’ve heard his side of the story, I’ll feel better about being in a relationship with this man.
Everything about Ty screams to me that he’s not capable of doing something like that, under any circumstances. Who knows, though? Maybe he was headed in a bad direction, and the terrible ordeal convinced him to turn his life around once he was paroled.
I’ve just opened my door to see Ty standing there in a suit and tie.
Oh, my, does this man clean up well. His charcoal suit with a white shirt and striped blue tie combine with that still-scruffy brown hair to turn him breathlessly sexy.
“Come on in and we’ll have a drink before we go,” I say.
He steps in and I pour us two stiff drinks of straight bourbon on the rocks. I have something to say before we go down this road tonight, and I’ve already had a drink in preparation.
“You look amazing,” he says as he eyes me appraisingly. I panicked when he told me we were going somewhere dressy, because I don’t have much in the way of fancy clothes. Last night I spent a few hours at the mall and was lucky to find a dress that looks wonderful on me. It’s a black bodycon dress with a V-notch neckline and crisscross spaghetti straps. The snug fit might call attention to my big hips if my exposed cleavage weren’t so distracting. It’s daring, at least by my standards, but it’s also elegant and sexy, and the way Ty’s practically drooling at me tells me I made the right call.
“What will we drink to?” I ask as we raise our tumblers.
“To our future.”
He couldn’t have given me a better opening. We clink glasses, then take a sip.
“Ty, I want to tell you something.”
He waits, but I take too long trying to compose my thoughts.
“Is something wrong?” he asks.
“No. I just wanted to say that I think we’ve reached a point in our relationship where we should be completely honest with each other.”
“Sure,” he says. “But I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“We shouldn’t have any dark secrets we’re hiding, you know? No big surprises.”
“I agree.” He looks into my eyes. “Are you about to drop a big surprise on me?”
“Me? No, not at all.”
“Well, I sure hope you don’t think I’m hiding something from you, baby.”
Baby.
It’s the first time he’s ever called me that, and it sounds so sexy, so utterly delicious, that I’m afraid I might melt.
“I didn’t say that. I just don’t want—“
“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”
I may be naïve, but I actually believe him. Let’s see where this night leads us.
“So, where are you taking me tonight?”
“Osteria Daniele.”
No wonder we had to dress up. The award-winning Italian restaurant is the most expensive place in Linville, and in the entire county, for that matter. This dinner is going to cost Ty a fortune, but I’ll be damned if I don’t feel even sexier just knowing we’re headed somewhere so elegant.
“Oh, my. What’s the occasion?”
“We’re the occasion,” he says, and the words hold all kinds of promise.
I just hope he finds it in him to be honest with me about his past, because if he can’t do that, there won’t be a we in the future. And even if he does tell me, I’m still not sure I can continue sleeping with a convicted murderer, regardless of how perfect we seem together, otherwise.
***
Osteria Daniele is gorgeous, the food is delectable, the service is impeccable, and my date is as charming as can be. The night has been superb so far, and the only thing that could make it perfect would be Ty telling me about his checkered past. Of course, he’d also have to say that he had no choice other than to take a man’s life to save his own, then let me know he’d learned a huge lesson about who to associate with and what situations to avoid.
I’ve just finished an incredible plate of gemelli with shrimp, arugula, and feta and don’t think I can eat another bite when the waiter arrives.
“Are you ready for dessert?” he asks Ty.
Ty looks at me, then says, “Yes, please.”
When the waiter leaves, I tell Ty, “I’m going to have to skip dessert. I’m stuffed.”
He shakes his head. “Not an option. I’ve had the chef prepare something special, so you’ll have to take a few bites.”
Does Ty know the chef? I’m about to ask him when he leans toward me and takes my hand in his.
“You’ll love this, I promise.”
The wait quickly returns with a covered silver tray, setting it down in front of me. I’m confused when he bows to Ty, then walks away without removing the cover. I look up skeptically at my date.
“Before you open that, I have something I need to tell you,” he says, moving his chair around the table next to me.
Oh, no. Is this it? He’s going to come clean, then make me feel better with a dessert the chef whipped up specially for me?
Ty puts his arm around me, then puts his mouth near my ear.
“I love you, Jess,” he whispers.
My heart jumps at the words. Caught off-guard, I turn to him with an alarmed look on my face.
“I hope you feel the same about me,” he says.
I try to move my lips, to say something, anything. But I’m paralyzed. What is going on here?
“Lift the cover,” Ty says.
My eyes go back to the dessert tray. I tentatively extend a hand to the cover, then look back at Ty.
He’s beaming and nods to me to continue. I lift the cover, slightly at first, then remove it altogether.
Oh my god.
On the tray is a plate, and one side of it has a lovely panna cotta surrounded by berries, a dark red sauce spooned over it. In the middle of the small mound of cream custard is a gorgeous silver engagement ring. On the other side of the plate, the red sauce is drizzled to spell out, Say yes!
I look at Ty, stunned.
“Jess,” he says softly, “Our short time together has made my life an absolute fantasy, and I can’t imagine not spending the rest of it with you by my side.”
Tears well up in my eyes.
“Will you do me the great honor of marrying me?”
“I… is this seriously happening?”
“It is,” he says, his eyes dancing. In this moment, I don’t have the slightest doubt that Ty loves me as much as I love him.
“It was my grandmother’s,” Ty says. “Except for the rock. I bought that for you and had it set.”
The ring is breathtaking, an ornate silver band with exquisite filigree details and a single shimmering, iridescent round diamond set in the middle. The stone is large, substantially bigger than any diamond I’ve ever owned, but it’s not so big that it looks gaudy or detracts from the design.
In one word, it’s perfect.
The only problem with it is that I can’t accept it.
At least not now, not yet. The tears are really falling now as the seconds keep ticking by.
“Ty…”
Shit! I don’t know what to say. Or I do know, but I don’t know how to say it.
“I know it’s a surprise, baby,” he says softly. “But I know without a doubt you’re the girl for me. I will love you more than any other man possibly could. We can make babies and grow old together.”
People are still looking, and I’m sure everyone thinks I’m crying happy tears. They’re only half-happy, though. I look at Ty again and know I must somehow respond.
I glance again at the ring.
“You are the most incredible man I’ve ever known, Ty. I can easily imagine myself being with you for the rest of my life.”
I hesitate, my heart in my throat. Here goes nothing.
“But—” I say as I replace the cover on the tray.
“But?” he interjects, suddenly concerned.
“I don’t know if I can totally trust you.” There. I said it.
“You can’t trust me? Seriously?”
“You’re hiding something from me, Ty.” I feel as if I’m floating, like a hot-air balloon.
Ty is dumbfounded. “Hiding what? I don’t understand.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Jess, I honestly don’t,” he says. “You’re acting very strange.”
“I know it must look like I am, but this is important to me.”
“What is important?” he asks. “What could be so important that you don’t want to marry me?”
“I never said that,” I protest, suddenly feeling anger at the idea that I’m the one at fault here.