Made For Loving You

Chapter 2-2

Exhaustion and irritation dogged Ty as he stopped at the head of his driveway to grab the mail. Darkness had fallen, and the cold chill of winter in east Tennessee nipped at the exposed skin of his face and hands. It was nothing compared to the winters in Afghanistan and some of the other hellholes where he’d served.

Tossing the mail onto the front seat, he continued down the gravel drive, parking the cruiser next to his truck in front of the tiny cabin he called home. In the normal course of things, the place was one of his friend Porter’s vacation rentals. He’d offered it up when Ty had taken the job as Stone County deputy. Grateful to have one less decision to make, Ty had jumped at the offer. He’d meant it to be temporary, until he’d settled into the job, proved he could hack it as a civilian. Somehow, he’d never left.

He liked the solitude of living this far out from town, more than a mile from the nearest neighbor. And really, he didn’t need more than the open-plan living space with a sleeping loft. It was just him. He had nobody to impress. But a vague, nagging sense of disappointment trailed him through the cabin as he went through the motions of starting a fire in the wood stove and stripped out of his uniform in favor of jeans and a flannel shirt.

Pausing behind the sofa, he glanced around.

The place felt empty. There was nothing of him here. No pictures, no signs of hobbies or interests. If he packed up his clothes and the collection of books, it would be ready for the next vacationers to walk through the door. No sign that he’d ever been here.

When had that started to bug him?

Grabbing a beer, he sank down on the sofa and began going through the mail. The usual smattering of bills and junk. And a thick, cream-colored envelope. The Georgia postmark had concrete setting up in his gut. Nothing good could come from home. He slid a finger under the flap of the envelope. The cardstock inside was heavy, like a wedding invitation. But this definitely wasn’t for a wedding.

You are cordially invited to a celebration of life for Garrett Michael Reeves.

The date next month blurred before Ty’s eyes as the invitation fell from his fingers.

Garrett’s birthday. Bethany wanted to have a celebration of his life on his birthday.

How could Ty possibly celebrate his best friend’s life when all he could feel was the gaping hole he’d left behind with his death? Hell, he hadn’t even been able to look Bethany in the face since the funeral. He had, in fact, bolted from the wake after they’d put Garrett in the ground because he couldn’t live with the guilt. How could she even think to invite him when it was his fault her husband was dead?

Snatching the card up, he exploded off the sofa and stalked over to the corner kitchen. With more violence than necessary, he stomped on the lever to open the garbage can. But he couldn’t seem to make his fingers release to drop the card into the trash. Instead, he let the can fall shut and shoved the invitation into a cabinet. Out of sight.

It wouldn’t be out of mind.

Prowling back to the sofa, he took a long pull on his beer and waited for his hands to stop shaking.

When his phone rang, he nearly let it go to voicemail. But one glance at the screen had his heart lifting.

“Paisley.” He hoped his voice sounded smooth and cool instead of raspy with the tears he wasn’t about to acknowledge. He took another pull on his beer to wash the frog from his throat.

“Hey, Galahad.”

With that one greeting, he felt the stress and the years fall away, sending him back to a time when his only worry in life was when he’d get another smile, another kiss—and more—from this woman. She was a lifeline in a storm he was still learning how to navigate.

“That brings back memories.”

“n***d ones?” she teased.

He let out a low chuckle. “Among others.” But, of course, now he was thinking about the more recent n***d memories and going hard.

“Is this the part where I ask what you’re wearing?”

Amused, aroused, he sank back on the sofa. “As I recall, you had a particular fondness for gray sweatpants and my varsity t-shirt.”

She purred. “I always did love talking you out of them.”

“You never had to work very hard for that.” His favorite place to be had been at her mercy. “Is that why you called? To talk me out of my jeans and have your remote, wicked way with me?’’

Five minutes ago, s*x was the last thing on his mind, but the sound of her voice all but stroked the shell of his ear and down the side of his neck. He shivered, imagining her fingers trailing there and lower. His own fingers flexed as he thought about fisting his c**k while she whispered dirty things into his ear. What would he want her to do in return?

“No, actually. I was hoping for something a little more hands-on.” As appealing as that suggestion was, something in her flirty tone was off.

Fighting his own biology, Ty struggled to get his remaining brain cells to function. “You okay?

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was just hoping you might be up for company and some of that fun we talked about this weekend.”

He wasn’t at all sure she was fine, but the prospect of having her n***d in his bed for more than a single night was enough to have his whole mood turning around. “Hell yeah.”

“You’re sure? I’ll have Duke. He’s got some issues with boarding, so I rarely travel without him. Is that okay?”

He’d met her cheerful disaster of a dog when he’d gone home with her after the wedding. It had made him consider whether he ought to get his own pup before he reminded himself of the long-a*s days he put in on the job. “Sure. You know I love dogs. Bring him along.”

She exhaled in clear relief. “Looking forward to it. We can both use a change of scenery.” There was that off tone again.

Had she been anxious about asking him? They were still feeling their way around what the hell this casual thing was, but surely that wasn’t it. Paisley was too confident a woman for that. No, he thought it was something else and wondered what was going on with her. Was that even any of his business under the parameters of casual?

No matter. He’d pry it out of her with orgasms. And if he didn’t, well she’d be a helluva lot less stressed when she went home.

Already grinning, he said, “See you tomorrow.”