Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 138904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
“She’s just trusting,” Ty defended.
“To a fault. I like that Vicki sees the good in people, and it’s disappointing that she’ll have lost some of that trust today, but if one positive thing comes of this, it’s that she’ll think twice about opening the door to some random stranger with a sob story in the future. God, she’ll be lucky if Miles ever lets her off the leash after this.”
“She’s not a child. She doesn’t need a leash. Her shop needs better security, that’s all.”
“Is that your professional take on the matter?” Hugh arched an eyebrow as he took a sip of his drink.
“May I see her?” Ty asked, ignoring the man’s question. It was his professional take on the matter, and he would be saying as much in his exit interview once he was done with this assignment. If his opinion meant a damn to Brand after this.
Hugh nodded and waved a hand toward the staircase. “She’s in her room. You know the way, I take it?”
Ty angled a sharp glance at the younger man, something in Hugh’s tone making Ty wonder if he knew more about Vicki and Ty’s relationship than he had let on.
Or maybe Ty was just being paranoid. A direct result of kissing her in public. What the hell had he been thinking? Doubts—and a healthy dose of reality—had crept in as soon as he had left her side. That kiss had been a massive mistake. He’d pretty much screwed himself and, worse, probably confused Vicki with his mixed signals.
Christ, he was confusing himself with his mixed signals. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore.
He excused himself from Hugh’s company and was upstairs and in the ugly pink room in seconds. The only visible part of Vicki beneath the thick pink quilt was her curly head. Ty inhaled deeply—finding her scent—so damned relieved to be back in her presence again. It didn’t matter that she was sleeping and unaware that he was there.
He dragged an uncomfortable looking, white wooden chair over to the bed and sat, pushing her hair back to look at her face. He winced at the sight of the egg-sized bump on her forehead. It was bright red but tinges of blue were starting to creep in along the edges.
Despite the ugly bruise, she so looked peaceful and relaxed, that Ty couldn’t keep the relieved smile from his lips. He was exactly where he needed to be right now. He had no confusion or doubts about that. It was an indisputable fact.
His phone beeped, and he dragged it from his pocket.
Chance told me what happened! OMG!! Are you guys okay? It was from Linda. For a second, Ty puzzled over how she could possibly have his number. Then vaguely recalled exchanging contact details at the Bloomin’ Paradise Christmas party.
The Christmas party to which—they had both been told in unequivocal terms by Vicki—Chance and Ty simply had to come. Ty grinned, he remembered telling her he would be there regardless because he was on duty. She had rolled her eyes in response and told him it still counted.
It had been a good day. One of his best Christmases in years. He had still spent Christmas day alone, watching the specials on TV, but he’d considered that little shop party—a week before the twenty-fifth—his real Christmas.
He considered Linda’s text and tapped a response.
We’re both fine. Vicki needed stitches.
Are you with her?
Yeah, she’s asleep, but okay. Not sure if you should open store tomorrow. Will ask Vicki when she wakes.
Okay, will let Josh and Jazz know. Please give her a huge hug from all of us. And one for yourself too.
That made him smile.
Thanks, Linda.
Take care of yourself and our girl.
Always.
He switched off his phone and shoved it back into his pocket. He kept his eyes fixed on Vicki’s face until he got drowsy, and slowly drifted off to sleep.
“Vicki.” The urgent whisper woke Vicki from a sound sleep. She opened her eyes to blink groggily up into Hugh’s face.
“I’m sleeping, butthead,” she complained, and he grinned.
“How many fingers?” He wriggled his hand in front of her face.
She shoved his hand aside and grumbled an annoyed reply, “Five.”
“What’s your name?”
“What’s my name?” she repeated in surprise. Why was he asking her that? His eyes widened in horror.
“Shit, don’t you know?”
She heard a rumbling chuckle coming from the other side of the bed and turned her head with a wince to see Ty sitting on her uncomfortable vanity seat. The upper half of his body was sprawled on the bed, and his eyes looked bleary, like he’d been sleeping.
“Hey, what’s your name?” Hugh impatiently snapped his fingers to get her attention, and—as she slowly became aware of the throbbing in her head and the unpleasant numbness in her arm—Vicki remembered what had happened.
“You know my name, Hughie, stop asking,” she mumbled. “Crap my head hurts.”