Carrie laughed. Ty loved it when she laughed. The way her cheeks reddened, how her lips curled at the sides. Something stirred inside him, and he brought the thermos back to his lips.
“So you’re telling me, you’d like me to head into town sooner rather than later,” Carrie called back.
“It’d be nice.”
“Can I tag along?”
Carrie looked at him, with deep wrinkles creasing her forehead. He recognized the expression. It was the one she gave when she sized him up or questioned his motives. And rightly so. After kissing her last night, all he could think of was how he wanted to do it again. “Get your jacket, and I’ll start the Hummer.”
“Fine, you can go, but we’re taking my truck. If people see me in that monstrosity of yours, I’ll be the talk of the town.” She felt around her overall pockets before pulling out the keys. “I’ll be right back.”
Carrie disappeared into the house, but Lizzie lingered. She leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her swollen belly. Ty felt the daggers from her eyes clear across the lawn. Sensing she had something to say, he jogged up to the porch, but stopped on the second step when she lifted her hand in front of her. “Um...is there anything else you want us to get?”
“Cut the nice guy crap.”
He looked past her on into the house. When he didn’t see Carrie, he took a step closer. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Plenty if you’re not careful with her. You know, you’re not the only one who can swing an ax around here, Hollister. Watch your step.”
This wasn’t the first time he had angered a woman enough to threaten his life. This was, however, the first time he absolutely believed it. With a growl that reminded Ty of an angry pit bull, Lizzie pulled a folded piece of stationery out of her apron and shoved it into his chest. “See you two in a bit.”
Carrie stepped out the door and patted her sister’s shoulder on her way by. “If you think of anything else, call my cell,” she said. “And remember, no lifting.”
Ty followed Carrie out to the truck. She sat at the wheel, rubbing her ungloved hands together to warm them. He knocked on the frosted glass and motioned for her to roll the window down. “How about you move over,” he said. “The roads are bad, and I’d feel better if I was the one behind the wheel.”
“Excuse me, but who’s the native New Yorker here? I’m driving.”
“But, Carrie.”
“Get in.”
The power window hummed to a close, and just like that, the conversation ended. He took a step back, not so much in compliance, but at the shock of her words. Carrie Ann had just given him an order. It had been a while since anyone had told him what to do, except a director of course, but even then, Ty ultimately held their fate in his hands. It was refreshing and strangely arousing. She was taking control, and God damn, he was happy to let her have it.
He jumped in the passenger side and pulled off his work gloves. Warmer ones would have been his choice, but as he rubbed them together, he was beginning to think they felt better frozen. His palms burned, heralding the bloom of blisters. He looked at them and scowled. A decade of easy living had dulled his calluses.
“Are your hands okay?”
“Yeah,” he said and blew into his palms. “I guess I should have worn better gloves.”
“You should have used ones like mine. I rarely get a blister.”
He reached across the seat, bringing her palm to his cheek. “You’re right. Smooth as ever.”
“Which is more than I can say for your beard.” She replaced her hand on the steering wheel. “So tell me, is this unshaven, unkempt look of yours all part of your dangerous playboy persona, or are you just lazy after long nights of carousing?”
“Jeez, you make it sound like I’m Grisly Adams.”
“I’m just kidding with you.”
He leaned against the door and looked at her. Her stiff shoulders, the slightest blush to her cheeks that he knew wasn’t from the cold. Teasing was her favorite form of self-defense, and he could tell, just by sharing the space she was on guard. He frowned. “You really have a hard time being around me, don’t you?”
He heard her breath hitch before she answered, “I don’t know, Ty. How do expect me to answer that?”
“Are you happy?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
The lack of an immediate answer told him what he already knew. There was a glow about her before that was so intense, many times he likened it to a beacon. Everyone saw it. Earl, her fans, and especially him. It still was there, but it had dulled, like whatever fueled it was no longer at a premium. He wondered if he was to blame. “Look, I know you’ve been through a lot, I mean with what happened with us, and losing your mom and restoring the farm. But you came through it, and I’m glad to see that.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Pity me.”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t. I was just saying-”
“I know what you're saying.” Her knuckles blanched, as her grip tightened on the steering wheel. “I just worked so hard to get past everything. I can’t think about it anymore.”
Ty stared out the windshield and fixed his gaze on the horizon. The memory of her limp in his arms at the bottom of the staircase flashed through his mind. Her pale face, her eyelashes black against her white cheeks. “I don’t blame you, baby.”
“And please don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“The pet names,” she said. “It may impress all those silicon-filled Barbie Dolls you sleep with, but I don’t want to hear it.”
The snow came down in giant clumps now, blurring the landscape into a grayish haze. The pickup fishtailed, but she righted it. “What about you, Ty. Are you happy?”
He turned back toward her. “Huh?”
“You heard me.”
Ty pushed himself up in his seat and chewed the inside of his cheek. No response was necessary. Just by asking the question, he could tell she already knew the answer.
She tapped the brakes and turned a corner into the parking lot of Wellman’s Grocery. It looked just like it did five years ago with a sagging roof, chipped paint job, and a neon “open” sign with the “p” burnt out. The lot consisted of five parking spots out front, and an area for snowmobiles around the back. Mavis Wellman, owner and proprietor of the store, drove the pink Cadillac, that she’d won for selling cosmetics, parked in front, telling Ty she was working that morning.
“Mavis is totally going to know who you are,” Carrie grumbled under her breath. “Do me a favor and stay in the car. I really don’t need the fanfare right now if someone recognizes you.”
“I don’t even recognize myself. I’ve got a hat on, I haven’t shaved in days and I’m dressed like a freakin’ Eskimo. I think its fine.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, just let me go in first.”
He pulled the list from his jean pocket and handed it to her. When she was safely inside, he counted to one hundred, before following her path up the wooden stairs.
A bell announced his entrance when the door slammed behind him. His eyes watered immediately, partially from the sudden heat, but mostly from the overpowering smell of cedar competing with stale coffee. A mangy sheep dog, named Duke, he thought, looked up from his slumber on the splintered wood floor. Unimpressed by Ty’s presence, he laid back down with a groan.
Taking a quick glance around, Ty headed to the magazine rack beside the front counter. The small town staples were all sold out. Field and Stream, Outdoor Life. The entertainment ones however, were in good supply. They were all a week behind, and most had his picture somewhere on the cover. One with some blonde girl in Italy, another with a brunette in New York. He picked up the one with a half-naked Layla superimposed next to him on a beach. The headline read “Reunited?” He laughed. Were they ever united in the first place?
“You’re following the Tyla breakup too, huh.”
A g
irl peeked out from behind the register, cracking her gum. She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder, revealing her SUNY Stonybrook sweatshirt. He smiled in relief. It wasn’t Mavis.
He waited a moment to answer, taking a quick scan of the store. Empty. Even Carrie had disappeared. Perhaps he was incognito after all. “Tyla?” he asked.
“Oh yeah!” the girl said. “You know Bradgelina. TomCat. All the big couples have nicknames like that.”
“Hmm, I don’t know much about that. I just thought that Ty Hollister guy was a pretty decent actor.” Feeling brave, he picked up another magazine and held it out in front of him. “His ex wife seems a little screwed up though.”
“Yeah, well can you blame her? If my boyfriend cheated on me like he cheated on her.” She held her hand up in a fist. “That’s why I’m glad I came here with his family for the holidays instead of mine. I can keep an eye on him.”
Not everyone was a fan, he figured. But it couldn’t hurt to defend himself. He walked up to the counter and leaned against the candy display, crossing his arms against his chest. “Do you really think he’s all that bad? I mean Ty Hollister, not your boyfriend. I thought Layla was the one who ran out on him with the dog walker?”
She giggled. “Maybe he drove her to it. You know what I mean?”
Again, he scanned the front isles. No Carrie. And that was fine. No sense being slandered in front of her. He smiled at the girl as if he agreed, then turned his attention back to the magazine rack.
“Wait a minute. I know you!” The girl snapped her gum when she leveled a pointed finger at him. “You’re Amy Miller’s older brother! I’m Kelly. I know Amy from school. Your picture is hanging in her dorm room.”
Ty shifted his weight, and the rotted floor whined underneath him. Whoever this Todd guy was, she seemed happy to see him, and he never liked to disappoint a pretty girl. His decision made, he cleared his throat. Improv. Just like when he hosted Saturday Night Live. “Hi. Yes, that’s right.” He extended his hand to her. “It’s good to be home. I missed this place.”
“Todd, right? I’ve totally heard so much about you.”
Carrie Ann came up to the counter, spilling her handful of items in front of Kelly. She looked past Ty like she didn’t know him, and he picked up on her queue. Either she had overheard his conversation with the girl, and was keeping out of it, or she had an agenda all her own.
“Well, tell Amy I said, ‘Hi’,” Kelly chirped. “I forgot she lived up here, too. You can totally come out with us if you want. I’m not sure there’s a whole lot to do up here, but I’m sure we could find something.”
The smile widened on Carrie’s face. He moved over when she reached in front of him, pulling a magazine from the rack. “You know, I just overheard you two talking about that Ty Hollister.” Carrie held up Celeb! Magazine and read the headline out loud. “Layla Plays it Straight. I want my Husband Back.”
“God, do you blame her?” Kelly said, punching the buttons on the register. “The guy might play around, but he is, by far, the hottest man ever.”
“He’s not bad.” Carrie shrugged. “He just seems like sort of a jerk.”
“I’ve seen all his movies. And he was on that TV show. What was it?” Kelly looked up to the ceiling, waving Carrie’s twenty in the air. “Undercover...something.”
“Undercover Heat,” Carrie supplied, pulling the zipper closed on her wallet and stuffing it back in her pocket.
“Oh yeah,” Ty said, leaning against the counter facing Carrie. “And his costar. Was it Carrie Ann Langley?” He folded his arms, seeing a challenge in her little game. “Wow, she was a beautiful woman.”
Carrie smirked. “Really, you thought so?”
“Hell yeah, and talented. I think she won an Emmy.”
“Hmm, just one?” She took the change from Kelly. “I thought it was two.”
Ty brushed his beard with his hand. A dramatic pause, but also a moment to contain the laughter. “You know I remember reading somewhere that they had a thing.”
Carrie raised a brow. “Really, you mean like a romantic thing?”
“No way,” Kelly said from somewhere behind the register.
“For real.” He leaned over, with his elbows on the counter. “Yeah, and I also heard that he was so heartbroken over their breakup that he never got over her.”
Kelly put her hand over her heart. “Oh, that is so romantic.”
“And I don’t blame him,” Ty added. “Carrie Ann Langley...Wow.” He extended his hand to Carrie, and she took it. “I’m Todd Miller by the way, and forgive me for saying so, but you remind me a lot of her.”
“Really?”
“Does she?” Kelly giggled, piling the food into a paper bag. “I don’t really remember her.”
“She had incredible eyes and a smile that’d melt ice.” He looked up at Carrie. “I always had a thing for her. Still do.”
“That’s sweet,” Kelly said.
“And a little scary,” Carrie added, taking the bag off the counter. “That show has been off the air for almost five years. Move on, Todd.”
She breezed past him, her elbow bumping his shoulder. When he heard the bell on the way out the door, he paid for a pack of gum and followed. By the time he made it down the stairs, she had already pulled the truck around back. He went to the driver’s side, and she jumped across, collapsing in a fit of laughter, when he opened the door.
“I see you’re at least letting me drive. That’s nice of you.”
“No one’s made me laugh like that in a while,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “You earned the right.”
“Great. You can abuse me all you want. As long as you don’t lose that smile.”
“You really do know the right thing to say at the right time. I can see why you’re so successful with the ladies.”
“Successful?” He chuckled, as he turned out on to the road. “You’re a strange source of positive reinforcement.”
“I’m not reinforcing your behavior, nor do I think it’s positive. I’m just stating a fact.”
The comments struck him funny. He realized that he didn’t like talking about other woman with Carrie. It felt dirty and pathetic. Stealing a glance beside him, he watched her pull the grocery bag onto her lap. She buried her head inside and riffled around the contents.
“You know all of them aren’t true, right?”
“All of what?”
He drummed his fingers on the wheel. “The news stories. About me. The things you’ve heard.”
She looked up at him, her hooded eyes conveying disappointment. Carrie Ann took sex very seriously, partially from her upbringing, but mostly because control over her body was hard for her to relinquish. This was her calling him morally disgusting, and he hated that she was absolutely right.
“I know this probably doesn’t mean anything now, but while we were together, I was faithful. I mean that.”
Her gaze drifted out her window. “What about Layla?” she asked after a moment. “Did you cheat on her?”
The fact she was asking the question at all told him how far he’d fallen in her eyes. He had been, painfully so, until a few months ago when she decided on a “discretely open marriage,” whatever in the hell that was. But that didn’t justify his behavior. “My marriage to Layla was a sham for the whole eight months we were together. It was a drunken night in Las Vegas that I regretted from the start.”
She shook her head. “How could you marry someone you didn’t love?”
“Trust me; it’s much easier than leaving someone you do.”
“Damn it! Prenatal vitamins!”
Ty blinked, his train of thought totally shifting. “What are you talking about?”
“Lizzie’s vitamins. I knew I forgot something.” She picked up the list from the seat and looked it over. “I wrote it down, too.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll turn around.”
“I remembered everything else. Chocolate chips, shortening. Canned frosting. Yuck, ho
w can she eat this stuff?”
“She’s pregnant. She has cravings.”
“I never did.”
Ty smiled, he couldn’t resist. “Well...maybe not for food.” She slowly lifted her head out of the bag, her smirk telling Ty she caught his drift. “What are you suggesting?”
“Nothing. It’s just that I remember suffering from dehydration for a good week after you told me you were pregnant. I had no bodily fluids left. I’d touch you, and you’d throw me into bed.”
“Tyler James!” She slapped him on the arm and laughed. Jesus, did he love that sound. A childlike giggle with the deeper timbre of a woman. Used in the right setting, he was convinced it could be a weapon.
When the moment passed, her face clouded again, and Ty knew her thoughts had shifted. “What is it?” he asked, playfully, patting her knee.
“I’m sorry I didn’t crave food.”
He pulled into the parking lot, not bothering to kill the engine. “You wait here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
Ty headed back inside and made his way to the medicine isle. He picked up the familiar bottle and headed up to the register, wondering what the hell Kelly would think of his purchase.
But it wasn’t Kelly at the register. It was Mavis. Her grey bobbed hair just like he remembered, her glasses balanced on the bridge of her nose. Her back still turned to him, enabling a getaway if need be. He considered it, given what he held in his hand.
He dropped the bottle on the counter, and she scanned it without looking up. He figured he was home free, until he reached in his back pocket. His money clip was back at the house. All he had was a credit card.
Thankfully, he could slide the card himself, and when it asked for his signature he scribbled it fast before snagging his purchase and heading out the door. He hopped back into the car and was about to congratulate himself on his slick getaway, when he realized his fatal flaw.
He left the receipt behind.
It was probably paranoia, or years of getting used to looking over his shoulder, but in Los Angeles or New York making a purchase like that would be tabloid fodder. He could see the headline now “Ty Hollister and his Secret Love Child.”
Undercover Heat Page 6
