Protecting the Dream (5 page)

Sensing the depth of the pile of shit he’d just stepped into, Ty jumped from the bed and hauled ass to the bathroom door just before she stomped through it.

“Get out of my way, Ty. I need a shower and if you know what’s good for you, you’re going to get my suitcase and bring it to me.”

He continued to block the doorway and smiled down at her. “I’m sorry. Thank you for breakfast.” He softly kissed the tip of her nose, then her lips. Eventually worked his way around to her earlobe, her Achilles heel. “I love you,” he whispered against her ear. “And you can drive Molly any time you want.”

Christ Jesus, the stupid truck had a name. And she was worried about being the crazy one in the relationship.

“Just so you know, Molly fits just fine through the gate.” She smiled up at him sweetly. “At least now she does.”

Chapter 4

Women were just entirely too sensitive. Ty blew out a frustrated sigh as he tugged on his shirt and jogged out to his truck to get their suitcases. It was the same shirt Jordan had tugged off only seconds before, revealing her naked breasts.

She hadn’t been wearing a bra, and damn, she knew what that did to him.

After peeling his shirt slowly off, she’d posed, teasing and taunting. When his dick made it very clear he was enjoying the show, she threw his keys at him and promptly kicked him out of the bedroom. Told him go enjoy some one-on-one time with Molly.

Apparently when a female woke up early and delivered you breakfast in bed, questioning her mode of transportation was not cool.

He circled the truck and examined her paint. Then guilt had him checking out the upstairs window. Jordan was in the shower. She couldn’t possibly catch him inspecting the truck. All the same, he chuckled and decided he had no interest in finding out what she would do if she
did
see him. He’d hurt her feelings, but he’d seen her drive through the city. She maneuvered through traffic like rainwater flooding a storm sewer—fast and furious and sweeping away everything in her path.

Maybe the best apology would be the one delivered slowly in a warm, wet shower as he worshiped every inch of her body. That was exactly what he planned to do next.

He tugged out their suitcases. As he turned toward the house, a pickup pulled to a stop at the gate. It was his brother with Jordan’s old orange couch—from her apartment in Titus—strapped to the truck bed. That sofa had been the first place they’d made love.

Well, technically he supposed it had been the first horizontal place they’d made love. They’d had a rather explosive vertical encounter before that, but it had been more about slaking a long overdue need than making love. But the second, third, and forth times had been on that huge, ugly orange couch.

He fucking
loved
that couch.

So did Jordan. Ty grinned and jogged over to open the gate.

Trevor rolled down his window. “Hey, bro.”

“Did you have any trouble getting it?”

“None whatsoever,” Trevor answered. “But I still haven’t figured out why you’d actually want the ugly old thing.”

Trevor parked and Ty tossed the suitcases on the couch. Trevor helped him carry the sofa inside. They centered it in front of the fireplace. Other than the bed, it was their first piece of furniture. The sight of it made him laugh. Didn’t make much of a fashion statement, but they both had a silly attachment to it.

Ty glanced at Trevor and nodded toward the radiator. “You’re staying to help me fix those, right?”

“Got all my tools in the truck.”

“Okay, I’ve got to get this suitcase upstairs pronto. I’m ah . . . already in the doghouse. I’ll be right back and we’ll get started.”

***

Jordan saw Ty’s blurry figure through the frosted glass of the shower doors.

He slid one open and pushed his arm in, handing her the soap and shampoo. “Am I forgiven yet?”

She took the items and noticed that he’d gotten her a towel, too. “Maybe. That depends.”

“On?”

“How thoroughly you wash my back.”

He peeked in. His gaze meandered from her toes up her legs, paused slightly at her hips, and came to an abrupt stop on her breasts. No doubt about it, Ty was a boob man.

She squeezed soap into her hands and rubbed them seductively over her breasts. “Well?”

“Baby, I had that very same idea.” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “But I can’t. My brother’s gonna help me get the radiators up and running today. If we’re going to seriously check out the rest of the house, we need some heat.”

“Okay.” She ran her hand between her legs and fluttered her eyelashes. “I’ll just have to finish without you.”

He groaned again and twisted toward the door, as if debating how long he had before his brother arrived. Ha. She’d reduced him to wavering uncertainty. Score one for boobs.

“Go on, don’t mind me. Go play with your radiators.” Yes, it was mean to tease him that way. But after the truck incident, he deserved it.

Once he left, she finished her shower and stepped up to the big mirror and double sink, still bemused. Did men always get that worked up about their vehicles and projects? He’d actually turned down sex to work on a radiator.

She grabbed her blow dryer. If she was going to meet Ty’s brother, she’d at least fix her hair and throw on some makeup. The thought of meeting any member of Ty’s family made her nervous as hell. At least it was just his brother. How badly could she screw that up?

Ty knocked on the door and muttered something about fixing the heat in the bedroom first.

She turned off the dryer and looked around for her suitcase. He’d dropped her cosmetic bag on the bathroom floor, but her suitcase was nowhere in sight. He must have left her clothes out in the bedroom.

Huh, guess she’d just have to prance out there naked and find something to wear. She glanced at her towel on the floor. Who was she kidding? She intended to see just how strong his resolve was to work on the radiator instead of her.

She strolled gloriously naked out of the bathroom, propped her hands on her hips, and struck her most seductive pose. “Any reason in particular you delivered my makeup but chose to hold my clothes hostage?”

He was crouched in the corner messing with the radiator. Sexy, wide shoulders shifted when he turned. And beautiful sexy eyes opened wide when he saw her.

“Ah . . . well . . . maybe because you look really good naked,” said a deliciously low voice.

Too bad it wasn’t Ty’s voice.

***

Ty picked up his toolbox and jogged up the stairs. He was almost to the bedroom when Jordan screamed. She’d likely pump a bullet into a mouse or spider before she’d squeal about it. And she hadn’t been asleep, so it wasn’t a dream. Her shriek kicked his pulse into overdrive.

He flew through the door. Jordan was stumbling backwards buck naked, and Trevor was standing there with a huge-ass smile on his face.

“What the
fuck
?” Ty grabbed a blanket from the bed and flung it at Jordan, then stomped to his brother and spun the dumbass around.

Jordan picked up her suitcase and escaped into the bathroom. When she was gone, Ty cursed at Trevor again. “What the fuck was that?”

Trevor looked nothing but amused, a big shit-eating grin lighting up his face. “I’m guessing that was your girlfriend, and let me just say,
well done,
bro.”

“I told you to knock on the bathroom door and let her know you were in here.”

“I did.”

“How could you just stand there—?”

“What did you want me to do?” Trevor shot back. “Under the circumstances,
standing
here was the most polite thing I could think of.”

“He’s right.” Jordan’s voice came from behind him.

Ty turned around. At least she was dressed this time, wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a brightly flushed face.

“He didn’t do anything; it was my fault. I thought he was you.” She turned to Trevor and held out her hand. “I am so,
so
sorry. You guys look identical from behind. I’m Jordan, Ty’s very embarrassed girlfriend.”

Trevor took her hand and chuckled. “Trevor. Ty’s very happy brother. Don’t be embarrassed. That was the nicest start to a day I’ve had in a long time.”

“
Hello
. Still standing in the room.” Ty glared from one to the other.

“What can I say? You both have very nice backsides,” Jordan said.

Trevor chuckled. “Honey, you have really nice everything. And if you have an aversion to clothes, please don’t feel you need to wear them just because I’m here.”

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious,” Ty said. “Don’t you have a radiator to fix?” He turned to Jordan. “And you, go put more clothes on. And a coat. And a hat. Try to avoid walking naked through a room we have company in.”

Chapter 5

Jordan inspected all the rooms on the second floor a bit more closely. Not that she knew much about home renovation. Nothing appeared to be in a horrible state of disrepair. New windows and new paint would likely do wonders. She headed down the stairs and into the kitchen. The rest of the house was much colder than the bedroom. Thank God Ty had packed her extra jeans and a heavy jacket. Didn’t look like she was going to need her swimsuit or other beachwear on this vacation.

When she stepped into the kitchen, Ty and Trevor were analyzing a giant cabinet that swallowed up one entire wall.

“I bet it’s an antique,” Trevor said. “I think it’s called a Hoosier cabinet. But you’d have a lot more room if you got rid of it.”

Ty turned to her. “What do you think, baby? You want this cabinet to stay or go?”

It took a moment for Jordan to register the question. “You’re asking me?”

“Well, traditionally women like to arrange the kitchen, figure out where they’ll put all their crap. I thought you might like some input. There’d be more storage if we kept it.”

She gaped at him, felt like she’d been dropped into a parallel universe. He wanted input? About kitchen stuff? “Are you new here? I’m a cop, not Betty Crocker. I own a coffee cup, a corkscrew, and about seventeen chip clips. I think one drawer will do me.”

Ty shrugged at her sarcasm and turned back to Trevor. “Guess storage isn’t an issue. Let’s get rid of it.”

Okay, she’d freaked and snapped at Ty. But there was something a bit too domesticated and real about making furniture decisions.

Trevor had remained silent through the whole exchange. She didn’t even want to venture a guess at what Ty’s brother thought about her.

“You don’t have to get rid of it,” she said, much softer this time. “Whatever you want to do—”

“It’s just an old cabinet, Jordan. No big deal.”

The way Ty cut her off plus the gruff tone of his voice relayed his aggravation loud and clear. He didn’t bother to make eye contact, just turned back to the cabinet and opened up all the doors and drawers.

She went to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

He whipped around. “We don’t have to spend any of our vacation time here. I promised you a beach. Do you want to leave?”

“No.” Her answer was out before she thought about it. But it was the truth. She
didn’t
want to leave. The house meant a lot to Ty, she could tell. The fact that he wanted to share it with her meant a lot, too. Maybe more than she was prepared for. “I’m not good at this kind of stuff.”

Moving closer to the cabinet, she took a good long look. Studied it. “I actually think this is pretty neat. There are a million drawers and doors in it and lots of cool details. But I don’t know why anyone painted it this ugly puke green.” She scratched a nail along the surface. “Still, I think it could be refinished.”

She opened her hand and smoothed it over the flaking paint. Her eyes drifted shut, and instantly she could see them, the blurred outline of the man in her dream and the woman he loved. Clearly a couple she’d never met, but she sensed they were as deeply in love as she and Ty.

The vision shifted into sharp focus, and a beautiful fiery redhead was being wrapped in the big arms of her cowboy. The woman looked utterly helpless when the man’s lips touched hers—a feeling Jordan identified with all too well.

They had to be the Hendersons.

A pull of energy had Jordan slipping her other hand onto the surface of the cabinet, too. The wood came alive under her fingertips; the piece had a spirit. Like a beating heart pulsed wildly beneath her palms. An electric jolt screamed through her system as if she were nothing more than a copper wire. A wild, crazy euphoria sizzled in her veins. Quickly on its heels, a sharp blast of fear stole the breath from her lungs.

Then the connection released her.

Jordan yanked both hands away as if she’d been juggling fire. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until it came rushing back with a power that staggered her. Ty caught her around the waist.

“You okay?” Trevor asked. His words sounded odd, as if they were funneling to her eardrums through long echoing tubes.

Her legs were shaky, and she couldn’t find her voice. She nodded anyway. The next thing she knew, she was sitting in another room.

Ty turned her head to face him. “Jordan? What was that? What happened?”

“Here.” Trevor handed Ty a bottle of water. “Is she okay? Can she hear us?”

“I’m fine.” At least her voice had returned. “I got a little dizzy, that’s all. I’m sure it’s just from everything going on. The last couple of days have been crazy.” She wondered if her face was as pale as Ty’s. Probably so. “I’m fine. Go do your man stuff. I’m going to sit here for a minute.”

Her mind finally registered the soft material under her hand. She looked down. “Holy crap, you actually brought this couch? My couch?” She rubbed the material next to her hip. “How’d you get it? Did you steal it or buy it?”

Okay, it wasn’t
her
couch exactly, but the one from her apartment in Titus. The style had been outdated twenty years ago and it smelled a bit musty. But it was softer than a cloud and big enough for them to lie on and wrap comfortably around each other. A warm flush zinged through her when she remembered the last time they’d been wrapped around each other on it.

“I’ll give you two a minute.” Trevor left.

“What happened?” Ty asked quietly when they were alone.

“Nothing, I just . . .” They had slept, so she couldn’t blame the dizziness on being tired. They’d eaten, so she couldn’t blame hunger. “I think I’m just overwhelmed.”

“Fine.” He held up a hand to cut off her lame excuse—clearly not her best evasive effort. “Have it your way. But just once I’d like a straight answer from you about what goes on in that head of yours.”

“Well, okay.” She leaned close to his ear. “I was just remembering the last time we were together on this couch. I was riding you like a woman possessed. I didn’t think you’d want me to share that image with Trevor.”

He stood, and his features softened. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir, cowboy. I’ve never claimed to be anything but.”

Ty shook his head and headed toward the kitchen.

On a big exhale, she let her head fall back against the couch. She’d dodged a bullet with Ty.

She glanced toward the kitchen. Expecting the unexpected while being asleep had become routine, but she’d been wide awake today, hadn’t she?

It wasn’t that a vision or a spirit had never approached when she’d been awake. It was just that she’d become very skilled at blocking the visions, shutting them down before they even began. Not this one. It had grabbed hold and hung on, releasing her only when it was damned good and ready.

What the hell that meant, Jordan had no idea. But she was beginning to think someone else was living in this house. She wondered just how badly Ty would freak if she told him she suspected the spirit of Ellie Henderson was sharing the space with them.

***

Ty and Trevor disappeared into the stable. Jordan had watched through a kitchen window while they hauled more tools from Trevor’s truck than either of them could ever possibly use. Apparently they were setting up shop.

She had to admit she was getting a kick out of seeing Ty so excited about the prospect of buying this house. She looked around the big kitchen. Man, it needed a lot of work. Was she really going to agree to this? A permanent relationship? A permanent mortgage?

She stared at a cooktop that was probably from the seventies. It occurred to her that she’d gone from one apartment or condo to another, always searching for a place that felt like home. No rented apartment had ever come close. But this big old house and its dusty, outdated kitchen were soothing in a way she couldn’t begin to understand.

Even with the certainty that she and Ty weren’t the only ones staying there.

There was no denying the energy that had crackled through the bedroom last night when their tempers had flared. And then she’d had the dream. Today, when she’d touched the cabinet in the kitchen, something
or someone
had force-fed her a vision she couldn’t have blocked with a suit of armor.

It hadn’t been violent or threatening, but she couldn’t afford to be naïve, either. Spirits appeared when they had something to say. It was rare, but sometimes spirits could be possessive of their environment. By the end of their vacation, she’d need to determine if the house was safe for them to live in.

She explored every corner of the kitchen. Cleaning just that room was going to require buckets and sponges and mops. Ty and Trevor had brought plenty of tools, so maybe they had cleaning supplies, too.

Following a path to the stable, she slipped inside its heavy wooden door. Aerosmith echoed off the walls. Ty and Trevor didn’t appear to hear her enter. She moseyed down the center of the building, checking out all the features. She’d never been in a stable, never had any desire to enter a stable, but this one was actually pretty neat.

It was huge. Six horse stalls lined one side of the wooden structure. Stairs that led to a loft rose from the other side. Just past the horse motel, a huge area opened up. Maybe it was for big tractors or small airplanes or giant keg parties. All Jordan knew was that she’d figured out why Ty had fallen so deeply in love with the place.

She wasn’t stupid. This was a man cave.

Testosterone practically dripped from the ceiling. Loud power tool buzzing drowned out Steven Tyler singing about love in an elevator. She stopped, leaned her elbows on a railing that separated the two halves of the stable, and almost drooled while watching the McGee brothers in action.

Man, they looked alike. No wonder she’d almost attacked the wrong brother this morning. They both had that unruly dark and wavy hair and strong, thick chests. And, man, oh man, their asses were as pretty as their eyes.

Trevor turned off the power tool.

Ty stretched toward the radio and turned it down. “Enjoying the show?” he asked without bothering to turn toward her.

“I’d be enjoying it more if it were dripping hot outside and you both had your shirts off.”

Ty swaggered over to her, leaned over the railing, and kissed her long and hard. “So what do you think of the stable?”

“I think it’s in a lot better shape than the house. I also think this man cave is the reason you like this property so much. Tell me you don’t have some macho fantasy about big tractor machines filling up that empty space over there.”

“Are you kidding me?” he said. “That’s where the pool table and dartboard are going. And I gotta have a space for the fridge and TV.”

Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes went wide. “You’re putting a TV in a barn? Well hell, let’s just burn down the main house and live in here.”

“Not happening.” Trevor laughed. “You said it yourself—it’s a
man
cave. Get it? No females.”

She rolled her eyes at Trevor, but she liked him a lot. Watching Ty interact with his brother was great fun. At the same time, her thoughts turned to Katy. How could she not wonder what her relationship with her sister would have been like had Katy lived? Would they have been as close as Ty and Trevor? She hoped so.

Her thoughts nosedived further and turned to her dad. Guilt struck with the speed of a lightning bolt as she wondered if she’d be a different person right now—less angry, less cynical—if she’d figured out that her father might not have been a criminal after all.

“You okay?” Ty asked.

She glanced at him and nodded. “I’m fine.” The man was dangerously perceptive to every subtle shift of her thoughts. It seemed wise to avoid any prolonged eye contact.

He lifted her chin gently. “Hey, what is it?”

“Nothing.” She jerked her face away from his touch.

He stepped around the wood railing and put his hands on her hips. Not in the sweet, sexy way he usually did, but with a firm grip that meant business. “Don’t do that to me. Anytime you want to leave here, we will. Just say the word.”

“Stop. It’s nothing to do with the house.”

“Okay.” His expression softened and he leaned closer. “Is it something to do with your dad? Did you talk to Bahan?”

She nodded again. “I talked to him this morning. Bahan’s looking into everything for me. But he’s crazy busy so it’ll be a week or so before he has any answers.” And as badly as she needed answers about her past, she also needed to figure out her future. She touched her lips to Ty’s. “I’m fine. Really. I just thought if you had some rags and a bucket out here, I might wipe down the kitchen. Or I could take Molly and go buy cleaning supplies and food.”

Okay, the last suggestion was made purely to get a rise out of him. She wanted to see him wiggle his way out of forking over the keys after claiming she could drive his truck whenever she wanted.

“I didn’t bring you here to clean or cook, baby. I can pay people to do that.”

Oh, he was good. Managed to say the words with very little panic in his tone or his expression. She stepped away from Ty and browsed through the tools. “You know, while you guys work on getting the heat going, I could even drive back to Saint Louis, pack up a bunch of stuff we might need,” she offered.