Made For Loving You (Rescue My Heart Book 3)

by Kait Nolan

  Night had fallen by the time all the formalities were taken care of. Fisher’s wounds had been treated, and he was in a cell. Despite the offer to put it off, Paisley had insisted on giving her statement. Ty had listened to her account of events, thinking of what might have happened and feeling sick. Then he’d offered his own statement, grateful there’d been nothing he needed to edit out. He’d gone prepared for deadly force, but he wasn’t sorry he hadn’t needed to use it. Paisley had enough trauma to sort through without adding that to the list, and by-the-book meant there was less chance Fisher would weasel out of this on any kind of technicality. There’d be paperwork—there was always paperwork—but that could wait.

  Xander laid down his pen, flexing his hand. “I’m sure we’ll have more questions. But for now, you’re both free to go.”

  Paisley shoved back from the table. “My car is back at the inn.”

  Ty grabbed his keys. “I’ll drive you.”

  They loaded up in the cruiser, Duke in the back, Paisley in the front passenger seat. Silence lay heavy between them as Ty pulled out of the lot. He didn’t miss the arms she crossed over her middle or the way she didn’t look at him.

  No more putting off the inevitable.

  “I need to say some things.”

  He felt rather than saw her tense.

  “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry. The list of what for is getting pretty long, at this point. I was all kinds of out of line last night. I got too much in my head, listened too much to my demons. I should never have said those things, and I sure as hell shouldn’t have left you alone and vulnerable. I swore I’d protect you, and instead I was a complete ass and made you feel like it was better to leave than stay and deal with me.”

  She glanced over in surprise. “You knew I was leaving?”

  “Ari kinda read me the riot act about it.”

  Paisley huffed a little laugh. “Me, too.” She turned her focus back to the passing dark. “Last night feels like a lifetime ago. I appreciate your apology, Ty, but it seems like we’re even on all of that. You did what you set out to do. You caught the person behind all this.” Her tone was off. Strained somehow.

  “You sound...not entirely happy about that.”

  Her shoulders twitched. “It was someone I considered a friend, so that’s got me questioning my judgment.”

  “You said something about that before. About how you hadn’t ever dated anyone you didn’t think was a good person. You never went out with him.”

  “Because I didn’t think we were a good fit, and I wasn’t attracted. Not because deep down I recognized he was stalker material. I looked at him with rose-colored glasses, and look where it got me.”

  “I’ve always liked the fact that you see the best in people.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep doing that. I think it will take some time for me to accept it’s over. That I’m safe and don’t have to keep looking over my shoulder. But it’s more that I’m sad that we’re over.”

  The words slid between Ty’s ribs like a blade, sparking panic. Had everything she’d said in the church been a lie? Just something intended to distract Fisher, so they had a chance to move in? He tightened his hands on the wheel as she kept talking.

  “I mean… it’s not that I didn’t expect this in the beginning. You were very clear about what you had to offer. It was just the threat to me that changed the rules. Now that’s past, and you’re realizing that nothing really changed for you. I get it. I hate it, but I get it. I was the foolish one who went and fell in love with you again. That’s on me. I don’t blame you for not feeling the same.”

  Unable to listen to any more of this, Ty whipped the car to the shoulder and turned to her. “What the actual fuck are you talking about? Everything changed, even when I didn’t want it to. I admit I kinda lost my shit with the case, and I said some unconscionable things in the process, but I haven’t changed my mind about wanting you. I was working out how to best grovel for a second chance when I found out you were missing. I didn’t get that far, what with the search, so let me just be blunt. I love you. I’ve always loved you. And even though I fucked up, even though I hurt you, and I have no right to ask for anything, I’m begging you not to give up on us. Not to give up on me.”

  Paisley launched herself across the car. Or tried. The seatbelt and console and computer stopped her. “Oh, for the love of—of all the times to not be in your truck with a bench seat.” She unsnapped her seatbelt and stretched far enough to frame his face in both her hands. “I don’t want to give up on us, and I’ll never give up on you.”

  He tried to close the distance between them, only to be stopped by his own seatbelt. Swearing, he yanked it off and reached for her, not caring that he bumped his elbows on all the suddenly inconvenient, pain-in-the-ass equipment. He needed to get his hands, his mouth on her.

  At the first taste of her lips, Ty nearly drowned in the flood of relief. She wasn’t leaving. She wasn’t giving up on him. He hadn’t lost her to his own fear and stupidity. Burying his hands in her hair, he struggled to get closer. Her mouth open under his, as desperate and greedy as he was to wipe out all the hurt and distance of the last days. He wanted skin, wanted to claim her in every way he knew how. Her fingers scrabbled at his shirt, not managing more than a few buttons before the damned console got in the way. Abandoning the shirt, she reached across to his lap, palming his straining erection.

  “Need you,” she murmured on a frustrated moan he felt down to his marrow.

  “Likewise.” Starving for the taste of her, he captured her mouth again.

  He was on the verge of considering something drastic and skating the line of public indecency when someone honked. Ty jerked back in time to see headlights passing them by outside the steamed-up windows. “This is really not the place for this.” Clearing his throat, he forced himself to release her and settled back into his seat. “Buckle up.” As she did, he hit defrost and put the car back into gear with shaking hands.

  “Turn around.”

  “What?”

  Paisley curled a hand around his arm. “My stuff will keep. Take me home, Galahad. I want to make love with you in our bed.”

  He hadn’t let himself dream for years, but here she was, handing him the one he’d harbored in the deepest chamber of his heart. He’d make sure she didn’t regret it.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Chapter 16

  Paisley knew she should be sleeping. Mentally and emotionally exhausted after the events of the day, tucked safely in Ty’s arms, she should’ve been completely unconscious. But her brain was going ninety miles an hour, careening from one thing to another like a pinball.

  Ty loved her. He loved her. He loved her. It echoed through her head like the most glorious refrain. He wasn’t letting her go. He wasn’t ending things. She didn’t want to do long distance. He wouldn’t do as well in the city, and he’d need the continued support of Harrison and Sebastian. She could work anywhere. She wanted to decide all the things, right now, to lock this down so that the warmth of his skin against hers and the feel of his heartbeat beneath her palm was her every night and the mission of making him smile was her every day. No more waiting. No more angsting. But it was too soon for all that. Hours after a kidnapping was not the time to make major life decisions.

  “You’re thinking so loud, it’s echoing off the ceiling.” His voice was rusty with sleep.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest.

  He resumed the lazy circles on her back, a gesture somewhere between soothing and arousing that had sent him into sleep after a stupendous and athletic round of makeup sex. She mirrored the motion on his chest. Neither of them could get enough touching. “What’s on your mind?”

  Paisley snuggled in closer against him, twining her leg with his. “I want to sell my house.” The hand stroking her back stopped. “I was thinking about it already before today. Yesterday? Whatever. I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to living ther
e after everything that happened.”

  “You could always turn it into an AirBnB for a while, to give yourself time to be sure.”

  “I mean, maybe, because that would actually be a good investment. But I am sure. You’re here, so that’s where I want to be.” When he didn’t immediately respond, her heart leapt into a frantic tattoo. “Not that I’m forcing my way into just moving in with you without asking. I’m not trying to rush things.”

  His bark of laughter interrupted the panic. “I don’t think anybody can accuse us of rushing things. Twenty years is quite long enough.” With a heave, he rolled to face her, tucking her hair back behind one ear. “If you want your own place, that’s fine. I pushed you into moving in with me without actually asking what you want, and you’ve had a lot of stress and changes. I completely understand if you’d rather have some room to breathe. But if that’s just out of some sense that I need space from you, forget it. I’ve had space. I don’t want any more.”

  The growing erection pressing against her belly underscored the point. Paisley wriggled against him with a smirk. “I can tell.”

  “Minx.” He gently nipped her mouth, wrapping his arms around her. “I want to find our place. We’ll need a bigger one, with a proper fenced yard for Duke, a bedroom with an actual door, a deck for entertaining—”

  Paisley tipped back so she could look at him, sure he was being facetious. “You want to entertain?”

  “With you? Yes. Everything’s more fun with you. Anyway, there should be a master bath, with a big ass soaker tub for two and a walk-in shower.”

  Getting into the spirit of things, she began to grin. “With multiple jets.”

  “Naturally. A kitchen with actual counter space for all the cooking we’re going to do together.”

  “We’re going to cook together?”

  “All the time. Especially weekend breakfasts that are going to end up with us back in bed.”

  “I’m definitely liking the sound of this.”

  “Me, too. You’ll need an office space, of course.”

  “And there should be a library.”

  “We should definitely have a library,” he agreed. “One with big, cushy furniture and maybe a fireplace.”

  The idea of it charmed and excited her and made her remember the drawers of books under the couch. “I found yours.”

  His brows drew together. “My what?”

  “Your library drawers under the couch.”

  “Ah. I had to get creative with storage. There aren’t many empty walls for shelves in this place.”

  Would he tell her about his favorite if she asked? It seemed a less sensitive question now. “I saw my books in there.”

  “I told you I’d read them.”

  She hadn’t quite believed him and had been too caught up in mortification at what those books had revealed about her in their years apart. “Yeah. Some looked like more than once.”

  “Sure.”

  “Why Edge of Reason? It looked pretty well loved, like there was something you kept coming back to, over and over.”

  “There was. Remember how I mentioned you write like you talk?”

  “Yeah.”

  “There was that passage after the bombing, when Boone and Layla are trapped and think they aren’t going to survive.” His eyes unfocused a little. “He said, ‘Home isn’t a place for people like us. It’s not white picket fences or comfortable beds or hallways lined with photographs chronicling the years and the milestones. Home is a feeling. It’s the scent of your hair. The feel of your hand in mine. The flash of your smile. The sound of your laugh or the way you slurp noodles so fast they slap your nose. It’s a thousand tiny moments that all add up to one truth: Home is you. It always was.’”

  He blinked, focusing back on her. “When I read it, I could hear you in my head, and it was like you were talking directly to me. When things got hard, I’d pull it out to remind me. Because you were always home to me.”

  Paisley’s throat went thick with tears. “Ty.”

  Stroking back her hair, he searched her face in the dim glow of the night light that illuminated the stairs. “Thank you for letting me come home.”

  She pressed her brow to his. “It was always yours. I’ve just been waiting for you to come back to me.”

  For a long time they lay there in the dark, breathing the same air, content to finally be where they were meant to. Together. Lulled by the steady rhythm of his breath, Paisley was on the edge of sleep when he spoke again.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  After a beat of weighted silence, he sucked in a breath. “Will you help me go home for real? Come with me to the celebration of Garrett’s life?”

  She understood what it would cost him to go. Understood, too, what it meant that he wanted her with him. It was the next step in his journey to healing, and she was going to be right there by his side. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Ty slid out of his truck and into the golden spring day. Being in March, Garrett’s birthday had always been hit or miss on weather, as likely to be incessant rain and wind as sun. But Bethany had lucked out with her planning, getting a gorgeous, warm day that called for shirt sleeves and iced tea. As he looked the rest of the way up the drive toward the neat farmhouse where she’d grown up, Ty remembered others just like it, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with his best friend, tossing a football and laughing while they decided what trouble to get into for the afternoon.

  Welcome home, brother.

  The phantom sound of Garrett’s voice had a chill racing over Ty’s skin, despite the warmth of the sunshine filtering through the trees just beginning to leaf. He hadn’t been back since the funeral, and he’d run from that. His one visit to Bethany in Athens after that hadn’t ended much better.

  A hand slid into his and squeezed. Paisley tipped her head against his arm. “Well, this certainly brings back memories.”

  The image in his head expanded, like a camera pulling back for a wider-angle view. And there she was, her sun-streaked ponytail swinging, her grin flashing as she and Bethany took off for the double swing in the big oak tree.

  “Yeah.” Feeling more grounded, Ty tightened his hand around hers and strode toward the house.

  They were early. But he had no idea how big this shindig was supposed to be, and he’d wanted a chance to speak to Bethany before everyone else arrived. Nerves hummed beneath his skin as he rang the bell and waited. The faint sounds of a female voice were answered by a deeper male tone. The door swung open to reveal one of Bethany’s dads.

  Dr. Gordon Bristow’s dark face split into a broad smile at the sight of them. “Ty Brooks. It’s good to see you, son.”

  “And you, sir.” He accepted the firm handshake.

  “And Paisley! Oh, my goodness, girl, it’s been forever. Come give me a hug.”

  She stepped inside, giving him a squeeze and a smile. “It’s great to see you, Doc.”

  “Come on through to the back. Bethany and Paul are fussing with the last of the setup.”

  They trailed him through the house. Dimly, Ty noted new paint on the walls, a new sofa, and the same ancient chair by the fireplace that Dr. Bristow’s husband refused to part with. Then they were outside again, and there was Bethany, cheeks flushed and glowing, glossy black hair gleaming in the sunshine, looking happy as she argued with her father over the placement of a picnic table.

  The sight of her struck Ty dumb, even when Bethany turned and saw him.

  “Ty!”

  He didn’t know what to do with her delighted smile and was saved from figuring it out when her gaze slid over to Paisley and down to where their hands intertwined. Bethany actively squealed and danced in place before racing over to throw her arms around Paisley. They traded enthusiastic hugs and what he thought of as girl greetings, and when Bethany pulled back, her deep brown eyes were misty.

  “Garrett would be so happy you two are back together.” She waved a finger between them. “And d
on’t think I’m gonna let you out of here without hearing how that happened.”

  Ty shifted on his feet, not knowing how to respond. He didn’t know how to talk about Garrett without the clawing pain of loss.

  As her father discretely slipped back into the house, Bethany reached out to clasp Ty’s hand with a knowing look. “He wanted you happy.”

  “I know.” Willing down the knot in his throat, he tried for a smile that probably came off more like a grimace. “He wanted you happy, too.”

  “I am. I mean, of course, I wish he was here every day and that I wasn’t doing this alone. But I’m doing what we wanted.”

  Ty was missing something, but he recognized her intensity. “Doing what?”

  Her smile dialed up to beaming. “I’m pregnant.”

  If an actual bomb had gone off in the backyard, he’d have been less shocked. For several long moments, his mouth simply opened and closed with no sound. Even Paisley seemed at a loss for words.

  At last, he managed, “You’re…I…who?”

  Bethany laughed. “It’s Garrett’s baby.”

  “But…how?” Garrett had been dead for two years.

  “IVF. I’ve had fertility issues for years. We were going through all the treatments for more than a year before he was killed. It was my second round. There’s a high rate of miscarriage. I lost three before he died. But we had two viable embryos left, and I decided to use them. This one stuck.”

  “Garrett’s baby?” Stunned, Ty started to reach out and touch her stomach, but pulled back.

  She grabbed his hand and laid it over her belly. “Garrett’s baby. You’re going to be an uncle.”

  He could feel the gentle swell of it beneath the blousy shirt that had camouflaged the bump. A sign of life. Of a hope he’d thought long extinguished. A piece of the man he’d loved as a brother all his life.