Made For Loving You (Rescue My Heart Book 3)

by Kait Nolan

  The dot bubble popped up as he typed his reply.

  What flowers?

  Rolling her eyes at his attempt to play innocent, she snapped a photo and sent it.

  The phone rang almost immediately. Ty, of course.

  She was smiling as she answered. “That was a really sweet surprise for when I got out of the shower.”

  “Paisley, I didn’t leave you flowers. I’ve been in this briefing for the last forty-five minutes.”

  “What? Then wh—” Slowly, she turned from the flowers to look at the alarm panel across the room.

  It wasn’t lit. She knew she’d set it.

  Skin crawling with gooseflesh, she whirled, looking frantically to see if someone was still there. But there was nowhere to hide except the loft. Duke seemed unperturbed…but he’d been barking.

  “Someone’s been in the house. While I was in the shower!” she hissed.

  “I’m coming home.”

  “Hurry.”

  “Stay on the line.”

  She heard him speaking to someone else then sounds of hurried footsteps and the slam of a car door.

  Clothes. She needed clothes. She didn’t dare go up to the loft in case some kind of boogie man was hiding under the bed, so she rummaged through the laundry waiting in the tiny, stacked dryer, hauling out one of Ty’s multitude of flannel shirts and some sweatpants and yanking them on.

  He’d been here. She was no longer able to think of this threat as anything but male. He’d been here, in the house, while she was naked in the shower. Her dog had barked at him, and she’d been blissfully unaware while she sang those stupid songs.

  What if he’d come in the bathroom? What if he’d trapped her there, while she was at her most vulnerable? What if he’d had a weapon? Her writer’s mind spun with scenarios, each more horrific and terrifying than the last. What if? What if? What if?

  Duke whined, clearly picking up on her distress. He nudged at her hand.

  “You still there?” Ty demanded.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”

  “We’re coming, okay? We’re coming.”

  She grabbed a cast-iron skillet off the row of hooks on the wall and backed into a corner with her dog to wait.

  As a Ranger, Ty had nearly two decades of training and experience in how to compartmentalize and push through fear for the sake of a mission. He had to draw on all of it as he drove like a bat out of hell, with Paisley’s unsteady breath on the other end of the phone.

  Why the fuck had he chosen to live so far out? Why had he left her alone this morning? She had no protection. He knew damned well Duke was worthless as a guard dog. It was too easy to imagine someone holding her at gunpoint or with a knife to her throat, threatening her to stay quiet.

  Because the questions and the multitude of dangerous scenarios ate away at his focus, he locked them away with the fear, too. Something to bring out once she was safe and the perimeter was secure. He ran lights on, siren screaming, coaxing every ounce of speed out of the cruiser’s engine as he clung to curves.

  “Still with me, baby?”

  “Yeah.” Her voice was too small, too quiet. Soft enough he could hear Duke’s agitated panting.

  “I’m nearly there.”

  “I can hear the sirens.”

  Let the bastard know he was coming. He’d rather run the threat off than risk Paisley getting hurt. The part of his brain still capable of rational thought recognized that she was probably safe. The flowers were meant to scare her, but there’d still been no direct contact. At most, the fucker was hiding in the woods watching, maybe getting off on watching them scurry like ants.

  But he could feel the pulse of her fear over the phone, and that overrode everything else, lighting up a primitive part of his brain that didn’t give a shit about anything but getting to her as fast as humanly possible. He fishtailed into the driveway and skidded to a stop, not caring that he sprayed his own truck with gravel in the process. Urgency beat in his blood, driving him out of the car, up the steps, gun drawn.

  Training kept him from just barging in with no cover. Years of habit had him following protocol, getting through the door to clear the room. It was that muscle memory that kept him from being koshed over the head. He pivoted, and something heavy and black glanced off his shoulder as he brought up his weapon.

  Paisley dropped…was that a cast-iron skillet? “Ty!”

  He barely had time to holster his gun before she threw herself at him. Absorbing her momentum, he wrapped her tight, still visually clearing the room, checking for threats. It wasn’t until there was no enemy fire that he fully let go of the idea that this wasn’t some kind of trap.

  Outside he could hear the rest of his backup arrive. Car doors slammed. Xander shouted, “Fan out!”

  But Ty’s focus narrowed in in Paisley.

  He’d burst in on countless civilians in various war-torn countries. Everyday citizens just trying to survive, never knowing when violence would rear its head. Women and children huddling in silent terror, waiting for the end. Ty had expected something of that in her eyes. And there was fear when he pulled back to search her pale face. But there was equal part fury.

  That he’d left her alone? That he’d broken yet another promise? That he wasn’t the protector he’d set himself up to be?

  Yeah, he deserved her anger for that and more. But there’d be time for recriminations later. “Are you hurt?”

  She gave a quick, sharp shake of her head. “I know I should’ve been gone already, but I got caught up and I just…I wasn’t expecting…this.”

  “Of course, you weren’t. This asshole is getting bolder.” Which begged the question…what would be the next step?

  Xander, Clyde, and Leanne came in.

  “No sign of anybody.” Xander nodded to Paisley. “You must be Miss Parish. I’m Sheriff Kincaid. This is Deputy Parker and County Investigator Leanne Hammond. Sorry for the trouble. Can you tell us exactly what happened?”

  Sucking in a breath, she stepped away from Ty, reaching automatically for Duke. “Ty left for work about seven-fifteen. I locked the door and set the alarm before he even pulled out of the driveway. I’ve been spending my days with Ivy and Harrison Wilkes for the past week, so I was getting ready to head that way, but I just wanted to linger over my coffee a while.”

  Xander flashed a reassuring smile. “Best way to enjoy coffee. Go on.”

  She took them through it. As she talked about the realization that Ty hadn’t sent the flowers and that the alarm was no longer on, she shook harder, her fingers fisting in the dog’s ruff. Here was the fear that righteous anger had drowned out. She didn’t look at Ty as she spoke, and he felt the greasy fingers of guilt slithering through him.

  “Was the door locked when you got here?” Xander asked.

  Ty crossed his arms so he wouldn’t give in to the urge to curl his hands into fists. “No. She about took off my head with the skillet though.”

  Clyde picked it up off the floor, testing the heft. “Good choice.”

  Leanne snapped a picture of the flowers. “I’m gonna try to get up with Misty. See if she sold any in the last couple days that would fit this description.”

  “Good.” Xander nodded in approval. “Brooks, let’s check out this alarm system, see what happened there.”

  “Can…can one of you check the loft?” Paisley asked.

  “On it!” Clyde trotted over, and Ty dutifully followed Xander outside.

  It only took minutes to find the cut phone line.

  “Older system. Came with the place when Porter bought it. Reckon he’ll be upgrading now.”

  Ty grunted. He should have updated it himself. Should have beefed up his own security, as he had Paisley’s house in Nashville. But he’d been arrogant, figuring he and his training would make up the difference. The more fool him. “It’s not that sophisticated a system, but it still indicates we’re dealing with someone who has some kind of knowledge.”

  “You suspected that when you s
earched her house, though, right?”

  “More in a staying open to all possibilities kind of way. The Metro PD detective on the case thought I was a paranoid nut job.”

  “Not looking so paranoid now. Good instincts.”

  Ty wasn’t sure his instincts could be trusted.

  “Hey, Brooks? You okay?”

  “The woman I’m supposed to protect just had a home invasion while she was in the shower. What do you think?”

  Unruffled, Xander clapped him on the shoulder. “Put it away, man. That kind of thinking will run you crazy, and you’re no good to her like that.”

  He wasn’t sure he was any good to her as it was.

  “You have access to monitor the system you set up in Nashville?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Check it. See if anybody’s been screwing with that.”

  But all systems appeared to be functioning normally. No recordings, no interference, no alarms. Which would make sense since her stalker was here instead of there.

  “Maybe Leanne has something.”

  Back inside, Paisley was coming out of the bathroom, dressed in her own clothes. Her eyes met Ty’s and held for a few, unreadable beats before she looked away again. A little bit of color had come back into her cheeks, but she still seemed a little shaky.

  “Misty hasn’t sold anything like this at any point in the last two weeks,” Leanne reported. “The flowers didn’t come from Moonbeams and Sweet Dreams. We can try checking with florists in surrounding towns, but that might take a while.”

  “The stalker’s in the Nashville area,” Paisley said. “They could’ve come from there, in which case, you’ll never manage to track the purchase.”

  Which left them where? Still no real leads to follow, no closer to an answer, with yet another space that should have been safe violated.

  This bastard was mocking him. Or that was what it felt like.

  She’s not safe with you.

  Short of sequestering them both in a remote location under 24-hour guard—which even Ty recognized was not the answer—he was running out of options, and he was beginning to doubt his ability to figure it out.

  “Pack your stuff. We’re not staying here.”

  A frisson of irritation flickered over her features. Probably about the bossy thing. She could deal.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “There’s space up at the inn,” Xander put in. “Lots of people around. I’ll call my wife, get her to book you in.”

  Ty nodded. That would work until he could make a better plan. “Appreciate it.”

  With a sigh, Paisley turned away and began to gather her things. Again.

  Chapter 12

  “Do you want to tell me why I had to hear from my sister-in-law that you and Ty have moved into the inn?”

  Paisley scowled at Emerson’s voice on the phone, wondering which one of Caleb’s four sisters had blabbed. Either Xander’s wife, Kennedy, or Pru, the one who also had a teenage daughter. “Hello to you too, Em. How are things in preggoland?”

  “Don’t change the subject. What’s going on?”

  Probably Pru.

  Knowing she’d been cornered, Paisley shoved back from the desk and began to pace the confines of the comfortable room that had begun to feel like a prison over the past three days. “That little maybe-a-stalker problem has turned into definitely-a-stalker problem.” She gave Emerson the summarized version of events as Duke trailed her around the room like a faithful shadow.

  “Oh my God! Why didn’t you tell me?

  “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “I mean, I’ve been forced to uproot again. Without being consulted. Again.” She sighed. “On top of which, I’m beyond tired of having my life interrupted. All this chaos isn’t conducive to my work. Your sisters-in-law are lovely, and the inn is great, but I’m desperate for some privacy and routine.”

  A deep male voice spoke up. “I have another brother who can help with that.”

  Of course, Caleb was right there. His seemingly endless parade of former foster siblings was the epitome of “I’ve got a guy for that.”

  “Hi, Caleb. And that’s not necessary.”

  “Are you sure you’re safe there?” Emerson asked. “I mean, Ty still has to work, right? He’s not on 24-hour bodyguard duty?”

  “No, he’s not. But I’m as safe here as anywhere. It’s a houseful of people.”

  “Offer stands.”

  “Thanks.” She paused. “Is Caleb still right there?”

  “He doesn’t have to be.”

  “Understood. Girl talk. I’m gonna go take Mooch for a run. Take care, Pais. Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  “Okay, he’s gone. What is it, babe?”

  “I’m worried about Ty. When this started, it felt like we were a team in this, but since this latest thing, he’s been in a really bad headspace. We’ve slept in the same bed, but he’s barely touched me. He’s not really sleeping, and I can sense him spiraling. He’s been all up in his head and is spending long hours chasing…well, I have no idea what leads because he’s not talking to me. He’s shutting me out, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “That’s a tough one. He promised you’d be safe, and then you weren’t. That’s got to mess with his whole alpha-male-protector view of himself.”

  “I don’t blame him for that.”

  “Yeah, but it sounds like he does. Maybe he needs a confidence boost. Something to remind him that you still see him as capable.”

  “Maybe.” But Paisley didn’t think it would be anywhere near that simple.

  The door opened, and Ty strode in, walking straight by her, into the bathroom.

  “I gotta go. Ty just got back. Give my love to, Fi.”

  “Will do. Good luck.”

  Hanging up, Paisley tossed her phone on the bed.

  The shower started up. Maybe she could join him and get past this wall that had grown up between them. But when she tried the knob, it was locked. Resigned to waiting, she considered going back to the book, but everything she’d written the last few days had been tossed.

  When he emerged half an hour later, he didn’t look any more relaxed. The strain of the last days showed on his face, in the tense line of his jaw. Needing to do something to soothe, Paisley crossed the room, wrapping her arms around him, not caring that the damp from his shower was soaking her shirt. But he stepped away, moving to the duffel bag with his clothes.

  Trying not to take offense, she dropped into the desk chair. “Talk to me, Galahad.”

  He flinched. “Don’t call me that.”

  “I’ve always called you that.”

  With fast, jerky movements, he began to dress. “I’m no knight.”

  Duke whined and nose bumped Ty’s hip. He ignored the dog, too.

  “I mean, right now you’re acting more like the Dark one, but Bruce Wayne is a mouthful, and I don’t think I can call you Batman with a straight face.”

  The attempt at humor fell as flat as the expression in his hazel eyes. “You can really joke right now?

  “When I think you’re being ridiculous, yes.” God knew, if she took this too seriously right now, she was probably going to break down. “It’s a nickname, Ty. One I’ve used for years that you always used to like.”

  A muscle jumped in his jaw as he yanked a shirt over his head. “I’m not who I used to be.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re still my personal hero.”

  “How can you honestly look at me and say that?”

  Confidence boost. Right, I can endure some embarrassment if it’ll help him get through this.

  “Because it’s how always I’ve seen you. Every male lead I imagined for my books was another incarnation of you. Different features, different professions, different situations, but still, at the heart, the man I’ve always seen.”

  With a look of profound disgust, he shook his head.
“Then you’re blinded by your own romanticism. Wake up to fucking reality, Paisley. The world isn’t handing out happy endings. Life isn’t some fairy tale, and I’m not like the ridiculous heroes in your books. I don’t have the answers. I don’t even know the right goddamn questions anymore. I couldn’t save Garrett, and I’m never going to save you, so stop putting that on me!”

  His words hung in the air between them like poison gas. Paisley couldn’t speak past the stunning pain as they leeched into her. As the silence turned long and toxic, Ty jammed his feet into boots, grabbed his keys, and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

  Paisley sank down on the bed already feeling the tears coursing down her cheeks. Duke slunk over, tail tucked, and wriggled his way under her arm. Pressing her face into his fur, she held her sweet, loyal dog, and wept.

  Rationally, she recognized that Ty was lashing out, taking out his frustrated impotence at the situation on her. But she was hurting too, damn it. He’d just essentially reduced her to a silly schoolgirl, one without a single toe in reality. She could take being there for his healing, if he was going to heal, but not if he was going to dismiss her life’s work. Not once, in any of her many many relationships had she tolerated a lack of respect. She wasn’t about to start now.

  He wanted to be free of her expectation that he’d save her. The expectation she’d never explicitly put on him. Fine. She’d leave and lift that burden. She’d been leaving all her life, hadn’t she? Running was what she knew best. She’d believed for years that men could be enjoyed but not counted on. He was the whole reason for that belief. Shame on her for believing he’d changed.

  Grabbing her phone, she tapped a text to Emerson.

  Talk to Caleb’s brother.

  Ty eyed his fourth shot of whiskey.

  This was a bad idea. But, hell, he was full of bad ideas. Like starting things back up with Paisley. Like believing he could protect her. Like thinking he could ever possibly deserve to have her look at him as a hero.

  Terrible ideas across the board.

  Oh, and he couldn’t forget to add being an insecure asshole and yelling at the woman he loved and essentially calling her stupid for thinking he was anything other than the miserable, broken sack of shit he was.