Ty shifted his feet and hugged his leather jacket around himself. “If you’re offering.”
“Well, I can’t say there isn’t a part of me that wouldn’t mind seeing you freeze to death.” Her chest heaved with a sigh. “Come on in. I just made some fresh.”
Ty didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. He jogged up the stairs, following her through the elegant stained glass door, a definite change from the rotted out screen he remembered. The mud room on the other side also looked updated with new dry-wall and paint. The only thing that looked the same was the crucifix that hung conspicuously over the entrance to the kitchen, and the scent of cinnamon and cedar that wafted in the space between.
“So this is a surprise visit, huh?”
“You could say that.” Ty whipped his baseball cap from his head and stuffed it in his back pocket. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
“Not really. I was just waiting for Carrie to finish up in the barn. Russ is in the city at some pediatric convention for the week, so we’re having movie night.” She held up a worn VHS copy of “This is Spinal Tap” and chucked it back on the counter. “I’m on a weepy love story kick, but she insisted on classic comedy.”
“Hey, I know how you feel. Thanks to her, I still have Blazing Saddles committed to memory.” He went to the cupboard next to the fridge and pulled out two mugs. After filling them with coffee, he handed one to Lizzie.
“You know, she’s been worried about seeing you.”
“Really?” Ty leaned against the counter and wrapped his hands around the warm ceramic cup. “She seemed pretty put together today.”
“Did you forget her profession, Ty?”
He pursed his lips. The jab met its target. Square in the gut.
“So, I haven’t heard anything from you in a long time,” she said. “I guess I don’t blame you. I know my family didn’t make it easy on you.”
His insides curdled at the thought of her father. Lizzie didn’t know the half of it, and that’s the way it would stay. “Yeah well, I figure I had it coming. I knocked up the Deacon’s baby daughter. I’m surprised I wasn’t pelted with brimstone or set on fire at the stake.”
“Well then you’ll be relieved to know that Daddy isn’t here. He travels a lot now organizing retreats for the Archdioceses of New York. He’s on retreat for the week.”
“It’s not just your Dad I pissed off. That husband of yours caught me pretty good with a right hook, you know.”
Lizzie winced. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
“And I’m sorry about your mother’s passing.”
She set her mug back down on the counter and folded her arms against her. “Now how did you know that?”
“Just because I haven’t kept in touch doesn’t mean I haven’t kept up.” He brought the cup to his lips then took a long gulp, remembering how he felt two years ago when he happened upon the obituary in a New York paper. He almost called her. But after two hours of staring at his hotel phone, he decided that pickling himself in bourbon was the better alternative.
“Speaking of family, looks like you and Russ are expanding yours. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” She rubbed her stomach through her wool sweater. “Another month and I’ll be a mom. We can’t wait. Either can Carrie.”
“I bet. She loves babies.”
“Yeah, she does.”
Ty’s smile faded along with Lizzie’s, and he figured he could do one of two things. Launch into a ten minute monologue about how sorry he was about everything, or stand there and suck down his French Roast like a coward and opt for a lame change in subject.
“God, you certainly have cleaned this place up,” Ty blurted, shifting his attention to the refinished hardwood floor. “I remember chipped linoleum and rotting wood.”
“Don’t look at me, it’s all Carrie Ann. She rebuilt the whole thing piece by piece. The landscaping, the outbuildings, she even refurbished that old caretaker cottage for my dad. The only thing left is that dilapidated barn out there.” She nodded to the east side of the property. “She’s got big plans for the place, I guess. Too bad her bank account isn’t the same size.”
Ty stepped into the huge living room, newly expanded from when he was last here. It resembled a log cabin with exposed knotty pine beams and a stone fireplace that climbed up to the cathedral ceiling. A picture window looked out at the valley and the dull glow of night lights from the ski resort across the way.
“Looks like ski season will start early this year.”
“That’s what Carrie Ann is hoping. I think she misses her winter regulars in the summer off-season.”
In the corner by the window sat a Steinway baby grand piano. He pressed middle “C” and smiled. It had been tuned since the last time he’d been there.
“You still play?”
Ty stared at the keyboard. It used to be he’d play all the time. Just for Carrie and close friends over the years. He taught himself as a child and it was always a stress reliever for him. He remembered the nights Carrie Ann would sit next to him on the piano bench with her head on his shoulder. The last keyboard he ever touched was this one. “No, haven’t really wanted to.”
“Listen, I told Carrie I would bring her a cup of coffee.” Lizzie came up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you take this to her? She’s in the barn.”
When she handed him the thermos, he knew it was a peace offering that he didn’t want her to reconsider. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, before heading across the kitchen toward the door.
Chapter Three
Carrie stood in the middle of the barn, assessing the project in front of her. The place had been under restoration for three months, and the only thing that had been done was the stall removal. That’s what she hated about hiring people to do things. They took their own sweet time, and it was never exactly as she wanted it. The place was now one big two thousand square foot empty space with a questionable foundation. It would be perfect for the five-star restaurant she had planned if the roof didn’t collapse on her first.
From her research, many of the world’s best bed and breakfasts had separate restaurants on the grounds for both the guests and people not staying on the property. The project was actually a secret gift for Lizzie. Carrie knew she missed the hustle and bustle of New York, and her job as banquet manager at the Waldorf Astoria. Not that Lizzie wouldn’t be busy with a newborn. But at this rate, the kid would be in college by the time the place was anywhere near finished anyway.
She lifted her head toward the ceiling and squinted at the sections of exposed sky. Snowflakes floated between the ill-fastened shingles, right next to the fluorescent lights no less. She had a few do-it-yourself books on roofing, but electricity was something she left to the experts.
Doing a one-eighty, she studied the loft at the far end of the barn. In her mind she pictured the place as a private dining area, or at least a quieter one. The carpenter she’d consulted told her the wood was too rotted for anyone to go up there to check the integrity of the weight-bearing beams.
But she was curious.
The stairs to the loft were torn down so she dragged a ladder over. Fully extended the top rung was just high enough to reach. Tightening her boot laces for safety’s sake, she carefully scaled the steps to the top.
The dry bowed wood creaked under her leather soles. The area was larger than she pictured, but also in worse shape. The holes in the untreated planks indicated carpenter ants. If that were the case, the boards were probably hollow.
Maybe the professionals weren’t always wrong.
The floor shifted underneath her. She held her breath when she heard a crack, and a small cloud of dirt lifted in the air. In an effort to disperse her weight, she dropped to her knees, then lay flat on her stomach. Sliding along the floor, she made her way to the ladder.
“Carrie Ann, are you in here?”
The deep gravel voice was unmistakable. When she got to the ledge she peeked
over. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her mouth was cotton dry, but she suspected that had less to do with her fear of falling to her death, and more about the gorgeous man twice that distance away.
“Ty?”
When he saw her, he cursed then jogged to the foot of the ladder. “Carrie Ann, what the hell are you doing up there?”
“Trying to get down.”
He scowled, adjusting the cap on his head. “Well the quicker the better, that wood looks rotted out.”
“It is.” A carpenter ant crawled over her glove. She left it, afraid the sudden movement of flicking it off would send her plummeting to the floor.
“I’ll hold the ladder.”
“Forget the ladder, I’ll jump.”
When she said the words, she almost laughed. A drop from this distance would break more than a few bones, but it would be worth it to prove a point. She could do anything without anyone’s help, although if her potential helper was anyone but Ty, this was one time she would have made an exception.
“There is no way in hell you can jump.”
“If you remember correctly, Jax Sinclair, you aren’t the only one who did his own stunts.”
Ty put his hands on his hips and smirked. “Well, I can’t think of an episode where a stunt coordinator would send you falling thirty feet onto concrete covered in ants.”
“What about the time in that episode where we were hiding in a deer stand?”
Ty cocked his head as if trying to remember. “That was about half the distance on a sound stage, and I’m pretty sure you landed on an air mattress.”
“Close enough.”
“Shut up. I’m coming after you.” He started up the ladder.
The last thing she needed was this jerk thinking he needed to save her. Taking a breath, she gritted her teeth, and with one fluid motion, she swung herself onto the ladder and quickly stepped down. “Happy now?” she asked, wiping her hands together with pride.
His dimples deepened in his day-old stubble. “Yeah, I’m happy.”
She flinched when he pulled something out of her hair, probably an ant. Who knows where else they had settled. “Why did you come here, Ty?”
“To bring you this.” He unscrewed the thermos and handed it to her. “Lizzie just made it.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She smelled the contents of the thermos. She was explicit in telling Lizzie she wanted it black, no sugar no milk. Coffee on its own was a diuretic, but everything else added calories. If she wanted to slim down, no extras. “What’s in here?” she asked, trying to peek inside. “I wanted black.”
“I don’t know.”
She felt his eyes sizing her up. He knew all her games, and she only looked stupid trying to hide them, but somehow it made her feel good to try.
“Carrie, its cold out here, and this will warm you up.”
When she put the thermos to her mouth, she smelled the heavy cream. She pursed her lips damming the liquid, then pretended to swallow, making her throat feign the outward motion.
“What were you doing up there anyway?” Ty walked underneath the loft, studying the beams. “This looks pretty unstable.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I want turn this place into a restaurant. I was curious about the space.”
“Ever think of hiring someone to do that for you?”
“Ever think I could do it myself?”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll go up there tomorrow and check things out. I also noticed a few loose shingles on the north side. You’d be wise to fix those before the snow flies.”
His southern accent was back. The sweet, slow as molasses droll that in hushed tones could stir her as much as his touch. And she thought he’d lost it. “The snow’s already flying, Ty.”
“Which is why I’ll get started first thing in the morning.” He winked at her then stared up at the gaping hole in the ceiling. “It’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow. It should warm enough to melt the roof, even on the north side. I think I can do it in a day.”
She folded her arms. If this was his way of manipulating himself back into her good side, it wouldn’t work. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Why not? You know I grew up on a farm. I did this kind of stuff all the time.”
“It’s not that.” The thought of his staying overnight in the farmhouse was too much. How many nights had she ached for his touch and hated herself for thinking about it in the first place. She’d hear his name on TV or see his picture in magazines and have to look away. He was her savior and enemy all in one, and if one could negate the other, he’d be nothing. But Ty was anything but nothing.
When he touched her cheek, she closed her eyes, his fingers burning her raw skin. “You really can’t stand to look at me can you?”
“Ty-”
“I mean really look at me. Like you used to.”
As if responding to a dare, she pushed her lids open. His azure eyes gazed down at her, and in that moment, she was brought back to the last time she allowed herself to linger there. When he carried her into the hospital in Connecticut and told her he loved her for the last time.
Her eyes clamped shut. She held her breath until he pulled away, and she heard his retreating footsteps echo in her ears. “Where are you going?”
He pulled the car keys from his jeans pocket. “Back to the City. I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll see you next week.”
“Wait.”
She came towards him in the doorway. Suddenly feeling hot, she pulled the wool hat from her head. “Look, I’m sure the roads were bad coming up here, and I don’t need Ty Hollister’s fan club blaming me for your demise.” She sighed, hoping she wouldn’t regret her decision. “Go get your things and bring them upstairs.”
“You sure?”
She blew out a clouded breath. “No, but you’re staying anyway.”
He smirked. The Million Dollar GQ expression that could melt the coldest heart. “Thanks, Carrie.” He winked at her before disappearing into the white fog.
***
Ty thought it best to leave his things by the porch. There were twelve bedrooms upstairs, and he had no clue where Carrie planned on putting him. Besides he heard the water running in the shower, and he didn’t trust himself wandering around upstairs, knowing she was naked and wet. He’d take the time to search for something to eat instead.
He hadn’t eaten since lunch, and he wasn’t one who could sleep on an empty stomach. After wolfing down a few of Lizzie’s cookies, he looked through the cabinets and fridge. In his recollection, the only food ever brought into the place was when he had shopped. Toward the end, he noticed that he was the only one who actually ate it. But the stocked kitchen reminded him how things had changed. He grabbed a can of soup from the pantry and dumped it in a pan on the stove. When he heard the shower turn off, he decided to add a second.
He found a stack of bologna in the fridge. He pulled it out and made a couple of sandwiches, on white for him and wheat for her. When she padded down the stairs, he spooned the soup into two bowls and took them to the kitchen table.
“Tyler, what do you think you’re doing?”
She came into the kitchen, clad in a thick, white terrycloth robe, better suited for a man his size than a tiny woman like herself. The sleeves draped over her hands, and the tie wrapped around twice. She looked like a child wearing grown-ups clothes, save for the small triangle of cleavage and the red strand of hair that stuck in the moisture in between.
Searching for his voice, he stalled by licking the mustard off his thumb. “I was starving, so I thought I’d make myself something to eat. There’s a ton of food here by the way. I thought this place was closed for a few weeks.”
“It is. Lizzie’s been cooking non-stop. Casseroles, stews. She’s vacuum packed most of it for the guests.”
“Wow. What got into her?”
“I think she’s nesting. It’s a pregnant woman thing.”
He closed the refrigerator door. “
I’ve heard that.”
She looked away, pulling the robe tighter around her. “I um, guess I’ll just head back upstairs.”
“How about a cookie?” He snagged a gingerbread man from the stove and took a healthy bite.
“That’s okay. I’m not hungry.”
Her monotone voice told him she hadn’t even considered the offer. “Suit yourself. I just thought after all that work in the barn-”
“Don’t act for me, Ty.”
He stopped chewing mid-bite. She caught him, and it surprised him that he was surprised. Carrie was a smart woman. She knew him better than he knew himself, and she always saw past any game or any line. It was some consolation that hadn’t changed.
“I know what you’re doing. And you don’t have to.”
He groaned, flipping the cookie back on the table. “Carrie, I was just making small talk.”
“I’m better, Ty. I have been for almost five years.”
He took a moment to study her, but there really wasn’t much to see with her swimming in the robe. She looked healthy enough, but he knew from experience that didn’t mean much. When she worked on “Undercover Heat” she followed a strict training regimen and carried a fair amount of muscle. She never looked like the classic anorexic, but he had learned the hard way that didn’t mean a damn thing. “I told you today that you look beautiful. I meant it.”
“Thank you. I suppose that’s a pretty big compliment.”
“Why?”
“I’ve seen the woman you hang around with. Tall, tanned blondes with huge silicon breasts. I’m surprised I’m even on your radar screen.”
A slap in the face would have hurt less. He held his hands up in resignation. “Fine, you win. You’re right. It’s none of my business.”
He expected her to head back upstairs, but she surprised him by meeting him at the table. She pulled the chair out beside him, the legs scraping against the hardwood. When she ran her fingers through her wet hair, the sweet scent of lilacs tickled his nose.
“Ty, I’m not going to deny that I was sick back then, and I admit I depended on you probably too much. I’m sorry for my part in what happened, but it’s over and I’ve moved on. Just like you.”
Undercover Heat Page 4
