For His Protection (15 page)

His heart beat hard and rhythmic. Easy words to say.
Go
.
Leave
. Easy enough to call a bluff. But if she left now, it’d break his
fucking heart to let her walk away.

Brooke’s fingers scrunched the stained panel of her shirt.
She bent forward as though out of breath.

Ty held out his hand, his palm itching for her touch. “In or
out, baby, it’s up to you.”

Brooke stepped into Ty’s apartment and it was almost as if
she’d never been there before. No longer a structure with risks, weaknesses,
strengths…just Ty’s home. His clean color palette simple, strong and somehow
comforting. She walked into the center of the carpeted living room area. Every
home had its own distinct aroma. She breathed in. His home smelled like a man. Like
wood and the coffee he brewed himself. All warm, delicious scents that made her
want to curl up on his big leather couch, drink mugs of his rich coffee and
stay here forever.

Brooke swallowed. It was on. The
relationship
. As if
she had any clue how to do that crap. Poor guy really didn’t know what he was
in for. She had a bucket load more bat-shit-crazy stored up in reserve than he
could possibly suspect. He’d only seen the half of it.

Ty walked back into the room, buttoning a clean shirt over
his chest. Brooke watched that skin disappear. Her fingers twitched, itching to
reach out and stroke, touch, feel his perfect hardness. He approached, his
steps light and loose, different from before. He moved with the satisfied
swagger of cat with a belly full of cream.

Her nerves stretched tight. “You know I’m not going to be
any good at this, don’t you?”

His full brows pushed together and he finished the last
button then stopped in front of her. “At what?”

“At
this…
”she said, pointing back and forth
between them. “Putting a label on it isn’t going to make me better at it. You
can call a thistle a rose but it’s still a prickly weed.”

Ty smiled. “Baby, even roses have thorns.”

She held his gaze for a long moment. “I don’t even know
where to start. Do we go on dates? Do I go back to my place? Do we—?”

Ty laughed softly and stroked the tops of her arms. “Relax.
We don’t have to
do
anything.”

She nodded, letting out a breath and rolling her shoulders.

“But—” Ty smiled. “We could start with you coming to lunch
at my parents’ place tomorrow.”

Brooke cleared her throat. “Your parents?”

“Yeah, my sister and her family will be there too.”

Parents? Sister?
Shit, she knew even less about
parents and siblings than about relationships.

“Don’t know if you’ve picked up on it, Ty, but I’m not so
great on the whole social skills thing. Pretty much don’t know what to say to
girls—at all.”

He undid the top button of her blouse. “You’ll be fine. They
love you already.”

Brooke coughed, her throat going from dry to cracking.
“You’ve told them about us?”

“Of course,” he said but his attention dropped to her chest.
He ran a finger down her sternum.

Her skin prickled, her nipples hardened.

He did it on purpose. Put his hands so close to her skin,
made thinking about what he was saying impossible.

She caught his hand. “What are you doing?”

“You need a shower. You’re all red.” Ty grinned his big
white grin.

Brooke glanced down at her spattered chest. “So I am.” She
brought his hand to her lips. “But I didn’t say you could touch, did I?” She
scraped her teeth over his knuckles.

Ty’s grin wavered as heat filled his expression. “No, am I
in trouble?”

“That depends on how well you scrub me down.” Her body
rippled with gnawing hunger.

“And if I do an excellent job?” he asked, his low gravelly
tone stoking the need in her belly.

“Then you know what happens to good boys…” she whispered and
led him to the bathroom.

* * * * *

Brooke yanked on Ty’s hand. “I shouldn’t have worn this.”
She tugged at the back of her dress. “You can see my ass.”

They paused on the lawn of the giant home overlooking Lake
Washington.

“Your mother doesn’t want to see my ass.”

The way her pulse twitched in her neck you’d think she’d
switched up the milk in her coffee with energy drink. A disco beat throbbed against
the base of her throat.

This is what she got for trying to look girly and borrowing
a dress from Charlize.
Tall girl problems.
Dresses just don’t sit the
same. Maybe she should have turned up in slacks, pepper spray clipped to her
belt…

That would’ve been honest at least.

Ty squeezed her fingers gently. “Baby, I promise, if your
ass was on show, we’d never have made it out the house.”

She glanced at him. His easy, sexy smile lit up his face.
Damn it, he was so excited. Excited for her to meet his family. Probably had no
clue the way the idea made her stomach curdle. How in about an hour, she’d
almost certainly bet his mother would be pulling him aside, telling him he
could do better than such damaged goods. Because his mother would know. Women
always did. Women could tell when one of their own was broken.
If
they
took a moment to really look at you. No matter what you wore, how much makeup
you put on, it was always there. Under the surface. That oddness. It wasn’t so
hard to pick up on. Ty’s mother would take that moment. She’d take a hard look
at the woman trying to date Ty.

Brooke sighed then did her best to return his smile, letting
him lead her to the front door. Ty balanced a platter of pink cupcakes in one
arm and released her fingers to press the bell.

The chime dinged and the door flew open, the bell still
tinkling on. A woman in a pale-gray pantsuit flew outside.

She rushed past Ty and threw her arms around Brooke.

“Brooke,” the woman cried, embracing her tightly.

Brooke froze. The woman’s arms wrapped around her middle and
hair tickled her nose.

Dammit
.

A hugger.

She never knew what to do with a hugger or their lack of
boundaries. Usually her don't-try-it vibe was enough to put off even the most
ambitious touchy types.

Brooke raised her arms and patted the woman’s back, glanced
over her head at Ty.

Ty smiled and shook his head. “Hi, Mom.”

His mother didn’t let go. Just squeezed tighter.

Brooke held her breath.

A man approached behind Ty’s mother. Brooke met his gaze and
knew him immediately. Same warm caramel eyes. Same broad shoulders, same
swagger. He laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder.

She pulled back, her eyes misty. “After all these years,
finally we meet in person.”

All these years…

Brooke looked between the woman and the man. His features
rippled with emotion, and then he grabbed Brooke too and pulled her into a hug.

Oh, shit…

His hug was warm, nice enough actually that she didn’t have
to fight the urge to crack his nose. But her heart still stopped and
realization punched her between the ribs.

“We’ve waited so long to meet you, to thank you for saving
our son.”

Brooke closed her eyes, emotions sweeping up her body like a
spray of hot water.

Why hadn’t this occurred to her?

That when Ty said he’d told his parents about her, he’d told
them
all
about her. Or maybe they’d put it together themselves. They’d
tried to see her all those years ago but she’d refused to see them. She just
hadn’t thought today would be about
that
.

“All right, folks, let her breathe or she’ll never make it
to lunch,” Ty said.

His father stepped back and Brooke grabbed Ty’s hand and
moved in to his side.

“Brooke,” Ty said. “This is my mom, Christine, and my dad,
Thomas.”

“Hi.” Brooke smiled shakily at Christine and then Thomas.

“You can just call us Mom and Dad,” Christine said, grinning
wide. That same wide grin Ty used to melt her.

Mom and Dad?

Brooke let out a breath and leaned against Ty.
Shit.
So
much for worrying they’d hate her. She glanced at Christine’s beaming face. You
could practically see her mind tallying up the wedding guest list before Brooke
even stepped in the door.

Well at least lunch would be interesting.

“These are amazing cupcakes, Brooke,” Christine said then
took another, slightly exaggerated bite.

“Mmmm,” Thomas said, mouth full.

“Yep, amazing,” Ty’s sister Olivia agreed, peeling a wrapper
for her two-year-old daughter, Violet.

Lincoln, Olivia’s husband, nodded. “Fantastic.”

Brooke swallowed a mouthful of coffee then wiped the
moisture off her top lip with a napkin and went for an expression that was more
smile, less grimace. “Thank you.”

You’d think she’d invented cupcakes. She rubbed her chest,
glancing between all the faces staring right at her then settled her gaze on Ty.

He sucked the frosting off the top of a cupcake in a way
that made a different kind of moisture bead on her lip. He was no help.

“Really, they’re like professional. Did you make the
frosting?” Olivia asked.

“Yep, she did. From scratch.” Ty grinned. “I watched.”

Heat broke across her skin. The admission felt like a dirty
secret. And it wasn’t only
how
he’d watched. It wasn’t just that he’d
sucked the frosting off her fingers then ate
her
like a cupcake.

She hadn’t baked in years. Hadn’t remembered how much she
enjoyed it either. It shouldn’t be so embarrassing should it?

Enjoying something so frivolous and sweet?

“Where did you learn these swirls?” Christine said.

Brooke set her coffee cup back on the saucer and shrugged.
“I guess that’s just what happens when you’re a girl raised by your
grandmother. Lots of baking.”

The table fell silent and one-by-one the gazes flickered
away.

Yep, they’d heard about her parents in
Brooke-discussion-round-one during lunch. Olivia had cried. Actually cried. Not
obviously but she’d swiped at her eyes and hugged her daughter tight.

Brooke put it down to hormones. At eight months pregnant,
Olivia must be drowning in them. Even having assured them it was all fine, she
was fine, great childhood and all of that, they’d all still looked at Brooke as
though she’d taken a hammer to each of their hearts.

“No more cupcakes,” Olivia whispered to Violet, struggling
to maneuver the two-year-old on the small amount of available space on her lap.

Violet held one finger up to her cheek. “One more?”

“No.”

Ty shifted next to Brooke then cocked his head at Violet,
who sat across the dining room table. The little girl slipped off her mother’s
lap and ducked under the table then crawled out next to Ty.

Ty scooted his chair back and Violet climbed onto his lap.
He cupped his hand and whispered in her ear.

Brooke glanced around the room, letting out a breath.
Lincoln and Thomas leaned together and began speaking in low voices. Olivia
whispered something to her mother about death by heartburn. Thank God for
non-Brooke-related conversation. Even heartburn, bodily functions, anything was
better than questions she never seemed able to answer.

Violet peeked over Ty’s shoulder at her mother then
whispered in Ty’s ear. He nodded and twisted away from the table, pulling a
wrapped candy from his pocket and handing it to Violet. She curled against his
chest and unwrapped the candy then jammed it into her mouth.

Brooke smiled at Violet. Not that she had many two-year-olds
to compare her to but Violet surely packed extra in the cuteness department.
Big brown eyes, long lashes, enough baby chub to make her look completely
edible.

“I see what you’re doing, Ty,” Olivia called out.

Ty glanced at his sister and winked then turned his
attention back to his niece.

“Mommy always sees everything, Violet,” Olivia called
louder.

Violet giggled and covered her mouth, her brown curls
jiggling with laughter.

Mommy always sees everything…

Brooke’s chest pinched tight. The roast turkey they’d had
for lunch seemed to double in her belly. She looked away. Tried not to think
about what it meant to be a two-year-old—just like this two-year-old—so soft
and vulnerable, to suddenly not have a mommy at all anymore.

No wonder everyone
else
had been horrified. The
tightness turned to a squeeze. Maybe there were reasons she’d avoided these
cozy family situations for so long. She was like a goose in a chicken coop.
Completely out of place.

She gazed at Ty and took a controlled breath. He looked up
from the child on his lap and smiled at her.

“Did you hear about Mrs. Benson, Ty?” Lincoln said.

Ty glanced at his brother-in-law. “No, what about her?”

“Happened yesterday,” his father said, shaking his head.

“It’s so awful.” Christine pressed a palm to her chest.

Olivia patted her mother’s shoulder then leaned toward
Brooke. “Mom and Dad’s neighbor was attacked.”

“Attacked?” Ty said.

Thomas nodded. “In the middle of the night.” He pushed away
his cake plate. “She heard a noise and went downstairs, interrupted burglars.”

“They pushed her over and broke her hip,” Christine said
with a sniff.

“Got past her security system as if it were nothing,”
Lincoln said. “Imagine that, thinking you’re safe and then—”

“Enough with the details, Lincoln. You’ll scare Violet,”
Christine whispered.

“You’ll scare me,” Olivia added with a shudder. “I don’t
know how the poor woman will bear to come home. Knowing that the person who did
that is out there, could come back at any moment…”

A shiver passed through Brooke. All the voices seemed to
blend together as they kept talking. She picked up her cold coffee and drained
the contents. The cup clanked when she set it down. Her fingers felt numb,
frozen.

“I don’t understand how anyone could be so cruel. It’s
terrible, isn’t it, Brooke?”

Brooke registered the question and glanced up at Olivia.

Terrible?

Tension wrapped her body like cellophane. A coating of
emotion so tight and smothering, one fast move could cause a tear that would
send everything spilling out.

She looked into the wide, horrified eyes of Ty’s sister,
whose sheltered mind reeled at the smallest act of violence.

Couldn’t understand how someone could be so cruel?

Olivia could never fathom the cruelty Brooke could describe.
What would happen if she enlightened them? If she imparted knowledge of her
horrific past on them?

Would they welcome her with open arms then? Would she still
be their hero if they knew how dark and ugly her past was?

She looked around the table. The edges of her vision seemed
to cloud, the air thickened. Her stomach clenched.

Could they ever look at her again? Any of these people? If
she soiled the tidy spotlessness of their minds?

Christine rubbed her arms.

Traumatized by a push.

Brooke flexed her jaw. She’d never be part of this family.
Never fit the clean, wholesome picture they made. She forced out words. “It is
awful.”

Ty touched her knee. “You okay?” he whispered.

Brooke nodded. “Ate too much.” She stood, collecting empty
cake plates and coffee cups.

“You don’t need to do that, Brooke. You’re a guest,”
Christine said, standing.

“Nonsense,” Brooke said in full boot-camp voice. “You cooked
lunch, sit.”

Christine blinked and dropped down.

Brooke carried the dishes to the kitchen, scraped plates
into the bin then set them in the sink. She gripped the edge of the bench, held
on and forced slow breaths through her lips.

The door swung behind her. Brooke turned. Olivia waddled in
carrying a bundle of cups. Brooke walked to her and scooped the dishes out of
Olivia’s arms.

“You should relax and sit down.”

“Thanks,” Olivia said and rubbed her hands over her belly.
“Pregnancy perks.”

Brooke forced a smile. “Get out of cleaning-up free card.”
She set the dishes down with the rest then turned back to Olivia. “Not a bad perk.
That and eating for two.”

“Yeah, except the downside is stretch-marks, nausea and
hemorrhoids.” Olivia laughed, holding on to her belly as if it might fall off.

Brooke’s gaze drifted to Olivia’s palms pressed against her
midsection and that cellophane coating constricted to downright crushing.

I’d trade you.

She swallowed, trying to halt the rapid descent of her
smile.

Olivia’s dress twitched and she gasped then grabbed Brooke’s
hand. “He’s moving, feel—”

“No.” Brooke snapped her fingers out of Olivia’s grip with a
sharp tug.

Olivia stumbled and stared down at her hand as if it had
been slapped.

“I mean—I saw it move,” Brooke said, heaviness seeping into
her bones. “I don’t need to touch—”

Heat moved over her in a wave, spreading a hot, sick flush
over her skin.

“Are you all right?”

She heard Olivia’s words but they seemed blotted out against
the pounding in her ears.

All right?

What the fuck is all right anyway? Not this. Definitely not
this.

Not freaking out at an innocent pregnant woman who dared attempt
to press the hand of a sad, broken, barren woman against her fertile tummy.

She reached for the kitchen counter, her chest tightening.

“Brooke?”

No, no, no.

She tried to block them out but once in, the thoughts took
hold like the jagged jaws of a rabbit trap.

The real reason this thing with Ty was a slippery slope,
rapidly stealing her footing. The thing she hadn’t told him. Reason
one-thousand-and-one that relationships were off limits. The thing she never
wanted to tell anyone. Sooner or later she’d have to admit it—have to tell him.
Something that somehow seemed so much worse than what he already knew.

A deeper violation ruined her.

One that devastated her on every level. One that filled her
with a shame so thick she couldn’t allow it to enter her thought process. But
that shame was always there under the surface, reminding her how broken she
truly was.

The injuries that cost her an ovary. Internal scarring she’d
been assured would make it “exceedingly difficult” to ever conceive. Her entire
future stolen at eighteen.

Stupid to feel guilty about it. It wasn’t her fault. Nothing
to be ashamed of. That’s what people would say. Pity it didn’t make it hurt any
less.

Pity it didn’t stop her from hating herself. Didn’t stop her
from wanting to punish her body for being able to do every single thing she
wanted it to do except the one thing she longed for it to do be able to do the
most.

Give her the one thing she’d never had—a
real
family.

Like this one.

“Excuse me,” Brooke said and stepped around Olivia, bolting
for the bathroom.

She sped down the hallway. The sound of Ty’s rich laugh
froze her steps. She drifted a little farther and peered in the living room. A
different laugh filled the room, a high-pitched one that verged on a squeal. Ty
lifted his niece over his head and her soft curls fell across her face. Violet
reached for Ty as he dipped her down and buried his face against her neck, blowing
a loud raspberry against her skin.

Brooke’s heart stopped beating—then came alive again in a
way that felt as if every beat wrenched it out of her body.

Fuck.

This was it—that moment the truth looks you in the face and
you have to decide whether to ignore it or accept the inevitable. This was Ty.
This was his family. This was the future he deserved.

And the one thing coming here proved was that she had no
business being here at all. He just couldn’t see it. He’d be too damn noble to
accept the truth.

She wouldn’t take his future from him the way hers had been
taken.

Ty deserved more. Ty deserved
better
.

She’d never believed that a heart could actually break.
Emotions were one thing—sad, lost, anxious. Simple emotions. They had nothing
to do with the physical organ that pumped blood. Yet now the pain in her lungs,
her chest, between her ribs, the base of her throat dealt her a physical blow
that almost brought her to her knees.

Brooke backed up and glanced down the hallway to the front
door. She shimmied past the living room then ran for the door. She stepped
outside and softly shut the door behind her.