Made For Loving You (Rescue My Heart Book 3)

by Kait Nolan

  “Seems your record is safe, and my investigation is at a roadblock.”

  “I know this means we’ll have to poke around some other area of my life, but can we just give it a rest for the night? I’d like to cook dinner for us and just…chill.”

  “We can do that.” Tucking away the nagging thoughts that had circled for days, he watched as she began unloading groceries. “What are we having?”

  “Spatchcocked chicken and roasted vegetables.”

  “You’re making that up. It’s some kind of romance writer dick joke, right?”

  Her smile flashed. “While I’m more than capable of making a dirty joke about basically anything, I swear it’s a real thing. Google it. You’ll see. It’s just the name for the technique where you cut the spine out of a whole chicken and press it flat, so it cooks faster. Makes roast chicken more possible for a weeknight dinner that way.”

  “Riiiiight.”

  She handed over a bottle of wine. “Here, make yourself useful and open this.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  He uncorked the wine and poured them both a glass as she turned on the oven to preheat and began prepping vegetables. She kept up a running conversation about inconsequential, everyday things. Normal. It was both surreal and wonderful, and Ty let himself bask in it, enjoying her. Then she reached into the cabinet for some olive oil, and something white fluttered to the floor, destroying his domestic fantasy like the screech of a record.

  For a moment, he was paralyzed, unsure if he should lunge for the invitation—which would make it a Thing—or ignore it. His heart beat thick in his throat, full of dread and a need to act against a threat he couldn’t fully articulate.

  Paisley picked up the card and set it aside, moving back to the vegetables with the oil. “You like parsnips, right?”

  He exhaled a slow, controlled breath, working to level his system. “I don’t know if I’ve ever had them. Aren’t they basically just white carrots?”

  “No. They’re sweet when roasted but a little sharper. I like them for something different, and they’ll taste divine with the pan sauce from the chicken.”

  Ty edged behind her, dropping a kiss to the juncture of her neck and shoulder as a distraction as he reached for the invitation.

  “You really need to give Bethany an answer, even if it’s to decline.”

  His hand froze and the world narrowed. One moment ticked into four before he found his voice. “You’ve already seen it?”

  “Yeah.”

  Why should that easy answer make him feel so exposed? She’d probably found it when cooking something else since she’d been here. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I didn’t think it was my place.”

  “And now it is?” He stepped away from her, knowing his voice was too hard, too sharp, but he couldn’t seem to stop it. She was shining a light on his biggest wound, and it made him want to lash out. That shit belonged to the dark.

  Paisley turned, the easy humor gone from her face. “You made it my place when you changed the rules. You said it yourself—we aren’t ever going to be casual. This relationship extends beyond the bedroom, Galahad. You’ve just spent the last several days going over my life with a fine-toothed comb, but I know very little of yours.”

  There was truth to what she was saying. And Ty was willing to tell her almost anything. Anything but this.

  She reached out, laying a tentative hand on his arm. “I know this is one of those things you said will never heal. I’m not trying to get you to slice open a vein here, but if we’re going to make it this time, I need more than these carefully curated pieces of you.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing.” That made it sound like it was deliberate and about her. He didn’t talk about this with anyone.

  “We each had a life the last eighteen years. You can’t just redact all of yours.”

  God, there were days when he wished he could. How much better would it feel to wipe out the memories that haunted him? Even as he thought it, the guilt spewed up, clogging his throat. Wiping out the memories would be to wipe out Garrett. Memories were the only thing he had left. And she wanted him to trot that shit out for conversation? “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “I think I do. I’m not here to force you into reliving the trauma. I don’t need to know all the details. But I’m not some stranger or a well-meaning shrink. I knew Garrett. I know what he meant to you. And I know that his death is eating you alive. You’ve been losing yourself in my case, in me. But I see it underneath, and I’m afraid if we don’t acknowledge the ghost in the room, it’s going to fester until it becomes something we can’t survive.”

  He didn’t know how to acknowledge that ghost without falling back into darkness. He’d worked too damned hard to claw his way back out to risk that again. To risk taking her down with him.

  She stepped closer, cupping his cheek. “I don’t want to lose you because we can’t talk to each other. You believing that you couldn’t did not end well for us before.”

  Ty closed his eyes at the old pain in her voice. He hadn’t known how to talk to her about his choice to go into the Army. And there’d been a big part of him that had held back because she’d had the power to change his mind. But he knew the silence had hurt her almost as much as the breaking up. Because she’d believed they’d shared almost everything. Why should that have changed for her?

  Ty opened his eyes, taking in the expression of earnest yearning in her face. She wanted so desperately for him to trust her, to give her this piece of himself. He could see, too, the underlying expectation that he wouldn’t, and in that doubt, he recognized the seed of their destruction. She needed more than surface. He’d known that, hadn’t he? It was why he’d tried—poorly—to resist the siren song of what she offered. But he’d thought they’d have more time.

  It was hardly the first time he’d been wrong on that front. Time was a precious and fickle commodity. It seemed theirs was up.

  She couldn’t possibly understand that in asking him to open this wound, he’d absolutely destroy her view of him as a hero. But he didn’t deserve to have her keep looking at him like that. It wasn’t who he was, and she needed to know the hot mess she was taking on before they got in any deeper. He’d promised himself he’d do right by her. Maybe it would better for her this way.

  He’d have preferred going through Ranger School again with one arm tied behind his back than talking about any of this shit. He didn’t know how to handle the grief in any other way besides ignoring it or channeling it into something else. He’d given up trying to drown it after Harrison stopped him from taking the coward’s way out. Running from this, shoving it under the bed like a corpse, was just another step down the coward’s path. He might be a failure, but he wasn’t a coward.

  “We were in a convoy.” The words were like razors in his throat. “Doesn’t matter where or why. It was a typical part of the job. Typical day. We were a little over a month into our deployment, settling into the rhythm, such as it was. Garrett was hyped. He’d just had a video call with Bethany, which always pumped him up, but this was more than usual. I finally asked him what the hell was going on, and he says it’s time for him to think about getting out. It wasn’t like we hadn’t talked about it before, when things got really bad. But we’d both ultimately decided we’d put in our twenty years first, so this felt out of left field.”

  Because his legs didn’t feel altogether steady, Ty slumped back against the counter. “I asked him why the change of heart. He’s all but bouncing in his seat like a kid with a secret. Says he’s not supposed to tell, but who the hell am I gonna blab to on the other side of the world? With the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on him, he tells me Bethany’s pregnant. And then the fucking world blew up.”

  He closed his eyes again, seeing the dust and the blood. Christ, the blood.

  Paisley’s hands wrapped around his, an anchor that pulled him back to the now. He wanted to feel all of her, to lose himself ex
actly as she’d accused him of doing, but he needed to get through this, so he focused on the warmth of her grip and breathed through the grief shredding his chest.

  “Our Hummer had hit a roadside bomb. We were taking on fire. Most of the convoy was already dead by the time I managed to find Garrett. He’d been thrown from the wreckage, and he’d—” Ty swallowed. “His leg was gone.”

  Paisley made a small, choked noise, but said nothing.

  “I managed to get him to cover, get a tourniquet on. I don’t know how long it took for backup to arrive. It felt like years. And the whole time, I’m returning enemy fire, swearing and shouting at him to just keep fucking hanging on. Then the helo set down, and I thought, thank God. The flight doctor started work on him the second we lifted off, and the medic was shoving me down to deal with shrapnel in my shoulder I hadn’t even noticed. Then he was just…gone. No last words. No nothing. Just…gone.”

  Ty could still see Garrett’s limp arm slipping off the stretcher before the drugs took him under. “I swore to protect him, and I failed.”

  “You did everything you could. You didn’t plant that IED.”

  So, he’d been told over and over. On his good days, he believed it, a little.

  “No. But it was supposed to be me in that seat. It should’ve been me who died. He should have been able to go home to his wife and child like I promised Bethany he would the day they got married.” His throat closed up on the words as he fought back the tide of emotion.

  “That wasn’t a reasonable promise.”

  Ty stiffened, starting to pull away, but Paisley held on, her expression fierce.

  “No, listen to me. You were brothers. There isn’t a soul who knew the two of you who didn’t understand that. You were both willing to lay your lives on the line for each other. And you did that, over and over again. But you aren’t God. Garrett died because of circumstances outside your control, not because you somehow shirked your duty to protect him.”

  His throat burned with unshed tears as he uttered the truth he’d told no one else. “I couldn’t protect her either. She lost the baby.” And the last piece of his best friend had died with it.

  “Oh, Ty.” Paisley cradled his face, and there was no pity in her eyes. Neither was there disappointment. Only a profound sharing of his grief that he didn’t know how to accept. She pressed against him, wrapping him in an embrace he understood was meant to banish his demons.

  “I can’t face her. I can’t do it knowing she lost everything because I couldn’t keep him safe.”

  “Okay.” She held tighter, brushing a soft kiss to his jaw. “Okay.”

  And after an eternity warring with himself, Ty let himself lean on her and wept.

  Chapter 11

  Paisley woke late, instinctively reaching for Ty. But his side of the bed was empty and cold. The scent of coffee told her he was already up. No sound of movement or jangle of dog tags came from below, so he’d probably taken Duke out for a walk. Collapsing back on her pillow she wondered for a moment if she’d dreamed last night.

  For the first time since she’d begun sharing his bed, Ty had woken her with a nightmare, shouting for Garrett. Her fault. When she’d managed to pull him out of it, she’d thought he’d turn away, get up to pace off all that adrenaline. Instead, he’d turned to her, losing himself in her body, as if he could cleanse his mind with the fire of passion. She shifted at the memory, and a sufficient number of aches proved that, at least, hadn’t been a dream. She’d held him after, until they’d both slid back into sleep.

  Where did they stand now? Was him being up and going already this morning just his usual morning-person inability to stay in bed? Or was he putting distance between them? She wished she knew. Before last night, she’d based most of her decisions around what she knew of the boy she’d loved beyond reason. There was still plenty of him in the man, but this was uncharted territory, and she hadn’t figured out how to navigate the space between who he’d been and who he was now.

  The door opened, and Duke’s paws clicked on the hardwood as he pranced inside. Paisley rolled out of bed, grabbing a robe before making her way downstairs. Ty was already dressed for his workday.

  As she hit the first floor, her dog bounded over with a happy yip.

  Ty glanced at them, his expression neutral. “There’s coffee.”

  She rubbed Duke down with hands that trembled from nerves. “Thanks.”

  All business, Ty looped the leash on a hook. “He’s had some exercise and emptied both tanks, so he should be good to go.” Before she could figure out what to say, he was buckling on his duty belt. “l have a briefing, so I have to go in a bit early.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Lame. Inadequate. But she had nothing to work with here. No proper cues to act off of.

  A frown finally cracked the neutrality. “I don’t like leaving you alone.”

  But he wanted out of this house, away from her. It was clear in all his body language.

  Fighting to keep her own face neutral, she buried her hands in Duke’s fur. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just grab a shower and get on over to Ivy and Harrison’s.” Not that she was in a hurry. While her friends had been marvelously accommodating, she was beginning to feel like an imposition and wanted some silence and empty space to think about the murky middle of this book. Not that she’d be thinking about that now.

  Taking her at her word, he nodded sharply, draining the contents from a mug on the counter before setting it in the sink and starting for the door. “Lock the door and set the alarm behind me.”

  She absorbed the inherent rejection in the gesture, managing only a monosyllabic, “Okay.”

  She’d hold herself together until he left. In just a few more moments, he’d be out the door, and she could flagellate herself for how badly she’d screwed things up by pushing him.

  Ty paused, one hand on the knob. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to get my head on straight.”

  “I’m sorry I pushed you.”

  “You were right. We won’t last without honesty. I’m just struggling.” He hesitated, as if he was going to say something else.

  Look at me. She willed him to turn around. To come back to touch her.

  But he only opened the door. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  The latch snicked quietly into place. Because she knew he was waiting on the other side, she threw the deadbolt and set the alarm to stay. Booted footsteps trotted down the stairs, and a moment later his cruiser was backing out of the driveway. Then he was gone.

  She needed coffee and some alone time to get her own head on straight and decide whether she’d allow this knot of tears in her throat to actually dissolve or not. Pouring a cup into the insulated mug Ty had so thoughtfully packed for her, she sank onto the sofa, patting her lap in invitation. Duke leaped up, assuming his favorite position for cuddles and belly scratches.

  That had gone both better and worse than she expected. She’d wanted him to open up to her, but what was the cost? Had she damaged this nascent thing between them by forcing the issue? Should she have ignored the invitation, as he had? Stuck with the plan for a quiet night to chill? She’d needed to know where his head was. That he was drowning a survivor’s guilt was no surprise. Blaming himself for Garrett, for Bethany’s unborn child, was illogical. But nothing about this was based on logic. That wasn’t how trauma worked. And his was still so very close to the surface.

  She wanted to help him. She wanted to heal him. But despite Ivy’s confidence, Paisley didn’t know if she could, or if he’d even let her.

  “He said he was struggling. Admitting it has to mean something, right?”

  Duke nudged the hand that had stopped back into motion on his chest.

  “Last night was a lot. Obviously, it brought up some stuff again. It’s totally reasonable that he needs space after that. He’s been carrying this around on his own for a long time. It doesn’t mean he’s going to shut me out completely.”

  She decided to take Duke’s sneeze of pleasure as agre
ement.

  Because the knot was still in her throat, she lingered over coffee and pupper snuggles until it had shrunk to a more manageable level.

  “Shower time, pal. Then we’re gonna go see our buddies. Okay?”

  At the word “go”, Duke bounced up, ready for action, tail making a helicopter motion.

  “You gotta wait. Let’s get you a puzzle while mama showers.”

  Paisley set him up, then dug out the little Bluetooth speaker Ty had packed. Some nice, upbeat music would perk her up so she hopefully didn’t get an immediate interrogation once she got to Ivy’s. By the time her Pick-Me-Up playlist rolled through Pharrell Williams’ “Happy” and Michael Bublé’s “I’ve Got the World on a String”, past “Uptown Funk” and on into Fleetwood Mac’s “Don’t Stop”, she was feeling more positive. And of course, when Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” came on, she had to join in. Because obviously.

  From outside the bathroom Duke began to bark.

  “Your opinion on my vocal stylings is not called for, little man!”

  He piped down, and she finished her shower in relative peace. Wrapping herself in a towel, she stepped out, waving away the cloud of steam. The bright pop of color on the kitchen island had her stopping in her tracks. A profusion of Gerbera daisies, purple tulips, and vibrant Asiatic lilies burst from a vase in the center.

  Tears sprung to her eyes again as she spun, looking for Ty. But he’d apparently been running some kind of covert op to sneak in and deliver these and get back out again for work. He’d probably expected her to already be gone. Crossing over, she picked up the card leaning against the vase and slipped it free of the tiny envelope.

  I’ve never felt closer to anyone.

  Oh, sweet, sweet man. He’d understood she needed some reassurance after their rocky morning. As apologies went, this knocked it out of the park.

  She started to call him but, just in case that briefing he’d mentioned was actually happening, switched to a text instead.

  Paisley: You are a sweet, sneaky man. Thank you for the flowers!