Jill Shalvis - Tangling With Ty

“Ty?”

He didn’t budge. He was sprawled on his back, his head turned slightly away, his chest rose and fell evenly with his deep breathing. Bruises bloomed on one side, and because he once again hadn’t bothered with covers, she could quite clearly see his swollen ankle. He needed to ice that, and probably take more meds, she thought, moving closer. She’d just check his vitals first, and-

And the e-mail caught her eye.

Dear Ty,

I’m not looking for comfort or a hand-out. And leaving it alone was never an option.

We’re family, linked by blood. Can you really say you’re not interested? You have such a full life that you don’t need this, the only other living relative you have?

I have a lot to offer, and I want to meet you. I want to know you. I want to be family.

I’m staying at the local youth hostel if you are interested.

Please, please be interested.

Margaret Mary.

Nicole stared at the letter, her heart in her throat at Margaret Mary’s raw need. And if she’d felt it, what had Ty felt?

“Did you see enough?”

Nicole nearly leapt out of her skin. Looking groggy, sleepy, unrested and irritable, Ty struggled to get up.

“No,” she said, reaching for him. “Just stay-”

He slapped the computer closed. “Yeah, I’ll stay. I’ll stay the hell out of your way. If you’ll stay out of mine.”

NICOLE STARED at Ty as he got to his feet and very carefully straightened.

“Where did that come from?” she asked.

“Forget it.” He looked around. “Where are my clothes?”

“Right there,” she said, pointing to the folded stack on her nightstand. “But-”

“I have stuff I have to take care of.” He grabbed his pants, then looked at them with a pained expression, as if he knew getting them on was going to hurt like hell. Jaw tight, he shook them out, then bent slightly at the waist. Sweat broke out on his brow and he wavered for a second.

“Oh, Ty. Get back in bed.”

“Since I doubt that’s an invitation,” he said, his voice more than a little strained, “I’ll pass, thanks.”

“I don’t get it. Your options were staying in the hospital for observation or coming home with me. You agreed, so what’s changed?”

“I told you. I have things to do.”

“Like go to the youth hostel?”

His head whipped toward her.

“I, um…” She clasped her hands together and rocked back on her heels. “I saw more of the e-mail than I meant to.”

“You see more of everything than you’re meant to.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” He waved away her efforts to help him, though he had to sit back down to work his pants up. By the time he stood again, his chest had a fine sheen of sweat on it and he was breathing like a mistreated racehorse. Getting his shirt on took another long, painful moment, during which time Nicole watch the tattooed design on his bicep bunch as he struggled. She bit her lip and clenched her fists to keep from helping.

And then he was heading toward the door.

“Ty-” When he looked at her impatiently, she sighed. “You can’t drive on those painkillers I gave you.”

“I didn’t take the last two.”

“You didn’t-” She shook her head, understanding now why he was hurting so badly. “You really are a fool.”

“No shit, doc.” He had his computer tucked against his good side, and was half out the door, but he hesitated. “Thanks.”

“For what? Pissing you off?”

Now he sighed. “For being there.”

“Okay.”

Crystal-blue haunted eyes watched warily as she walked up to him. When she got close enough, he closed his eyes, sighed again, then looked at her as he reached out and stroked her jaw. “I have to go,” he whispered, running a finger up the hoops in her ear.

She barely resisted the urge to turn her face into his hand and kiss his palm. “Tell me why.”

“Because I’m not fit for company.” He stepped back and dropped his hand.

“Sometimes, Ty, you have to let people in.”

“You’re speaking from experience, of course.”

She ignored the sarcasm. “I let my family in. And Suzanne and Taylor.” And you, she wanted say. Horrifying, how much she wanted to say it, how much she wanted him to want it as well.

“Goodbye, Nicole.”

“Wait… You’re not going to even write her back?”

“Do you really care?”

“You know I do.”

“Actually, I know no such thing.”

“How can you say that after last night?”

“We’re different, you’ve said so enough times.”

“Maybe those differences are more surface than I thought,” she admitted.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning…we’re both loners. We’re both workaholics. Maybe we connect on a more fundamental level than I imagined possible.”

“You’re a doctor. Your own words, remember? I was hurt and you’re sworn to heal. You would have done the same for a puppy.”

She swallowed hard at her own words thrown back in her face and looked right at him, the hardest thing she’d ever done. “I care about you.”

“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t. Goodbye, Nicole.”

And then he was gone, and she was staring at the closed door thinking that his goodbye had sounded a lot more final than just see-you-later.

It sounded like…well, goodbye.

And really, that was perfectly fine with her. More than fine.

Which didn’t explain the tear on her cheek.

ONCE HE GOT home, Ty slept for two days straight. Then he lay around for a third and fourth in a funk that was very unlike him.

It was too quiet. That had to be why he thought of Nicole only every living second. To combat that, he cranked up the music. Watched TV. Worked.

But still, he thought of her. How could he not? She was smart and sexy and beautiful, and he wanted her. Yet he’d wanted plenty of women before, so why he felt so down about how he’d left her, he had no idea. They didn’t have anything going, she didn’t want to have anything going.

Neither did he. Yeah, he would have loved to sleep with her, hold her, sink into her body and lose himself, sating this inexplicable desire for her. But he hadn’t, and it was over. He’d never been one to wonder about might-have-beens.

And yet he wondered now. Ironic that in his life, he’d had no patience for people who hesitated. Fate and destiny were out there to be taken advantage of, not to sit around and accept. He’d taken charge of his destiny, and because of it he had a great life. And if once in a while it was too…quiet, then he took care of it. It had never been difficult to find a woman interested in a good time, short-term of course. Maybe that’s what he needed now. A bout of mutually satisfying, hot, sweaty sex.

Too bad he could hardly move.

Five days after falling through the ceiling, he drove by the youth hostel. Just out of curiosity, he told himself, not because of a strange sense that he was missing something, something important. He got out of his car and asked the young tattooed kid at the desk for Margaret Mary. He waited for what seemed like forever, his heart pounding uncomfortably against the ribs that still hurt, only to be told she wasn’t around.

Good. Fine. It had been stupid to try to see her anyway. He didn’t need to add trouble to his life, and family would be trouble.

Since he was out, he went by some of his jobs, ignoring his aching ribs, burying himself in the stuff he’d neglected over the past few days. By the time he got home, he was suitably exhausted. Dizzy with it, in fact. Maybe now, finally, he could sleep.

But at midnight he was still staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. He probably should have given in and taken some painkillers, but he hated the loss of control so he gritted his teeth and told himself he’d feel better tomorrow. Deciding to work, he flipped on a light, but the lines on the plans blurred and jumped around, making him feel nauseous.