I groan. “Ugh, the dreaded middle child,” I tease. “Did you feel left out?” His face drops, and my pulse jumps. Holy God, did I hit on a sore spot. I quickly try to backtrack. “Tyler, I was just—”
“Night, Haven.”
He turns and I say, “I…um…do you think I could have a shower first? I feel icky after my long flight.”
He scrubs his chin and angles his body. I study his strong profile when he says, “Yeah, sure.”
He points to the door to the bathroom. “Shower is in there, and you’ll find towels in the closet.”
I put my hand on his arm before he leaves and his gaze jerks back to mine. “Thanks Tyler, for this…and earlier.”
“No problem,” he says, his voice a bit gruffer. “Get some sleep.”
I watch him walk away, my gaze latched on his backside, pulled by the easy way he walks. The stairs creak as he descends and I back up, step into his room. A grin plays on my lips as I take in his space, and before I touch his bedding and run my hand over the sheets, I glance over my shoulder. I have no idea why I feel like I’m invading his privacy.
After a thorough inspection of his room, and the view of the lake out back, I grab my bag, toss it onto his bed, and pull out my pajamas. I hurry to the bathroom, shower quickly, and then climb between Tyler’s sheets, which smell freshly laundered. I close my eyes, secure in this room with all the big Owens boys milling about. It doesn’t take long for me to fall asleep, but then suddenly a crashing sound outside my window pulls me awake.
I sit up, and rub my eyes, not sure if I was dreaming or not. I listen for a sound, and something creaks outside my door.
“Hello?” I say, and glance at the clock. It’s well after midnight, surely everyone has gone to bed by now. Moving as quietly as possible, I reach for my phone, pad across the wooden floor, and press my ear to the door. Silence meets my ears, so I quietly open the door and glance down the long length of the hall. Swallowing against a dry throat, I turn on my flashlight app, tiptoe to the stairs and head to the kitchen for a drink.
The light over the stove provides a path to the cupboards. I turn off my flashlight app, and after searching for a glass, I fill it with cold water. The house creaks, and I nearly jump a foot off the floor when something bangs outside again. Breathing deeply, I drop into a chair at the big oaken table and take a fast drink to calm myself. The floor creaks behind me, and I spin so fast, water spills all over me, drenching my pajama shirt.
“Tyler,” I gasp, as his big presence eats up the doorway.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I heard you get up.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I say quickly and work to regulate my breathing.
“You didn’t. I was awake.”
“Carter’s snoring?” I tease, hoping to lighten the mood.
He takes a step closer, hovers over me. My pulse skyrockets as my gaze drops to take in the gorgeous man before me, dressed only in a pair of jeans, which he wears entirely too well. From the dim light over the stove, I count eight abdominal muscles.
My gaze lifts back to his, and he’s not smiling. Nope, not smiling at all. There’s a new kind of ferociousness about him. In fact, he’s looking at me with murder in his eyes and a shudder goes through me.
“Are you okay, Haven?”
“Oh yeah, sure. I…I heard noises.”
A moment passes and he finally says, “This is an old house. Things creak, pipes bang.”
“Right,” I say with a shaky nod, as I work to pull myself together. “That bang was probably just a water pipe. Sounded like a damn gunshot.”
He sits down in the chair next to me, his solid presence offering comfort, and my shoulders relax. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
3
Tyler
I have never in my life seen anyone this spooked. I’m not sure what’s going on with her, and from the way she’s wrapping her arms around herself in a defensive move, I’m not so sure I’m going to find out. All I know is something is wrong, and if she wants to open up to me, maybe I could help her. Or maybe I should reach out to Rock, let him know his sister might need him.
“What do you mean?” she asks, and I take in the dark circles under her eyes. When was the last time this woman had a good night’s sleep?
I hand her a napkin from the holder Gram keeps on the table. She presses it to her wet pajama top and I do my best not to stare. I just wish my best was better than it is. Goddammit, what kind of man am I? This woman is frightened and I’m staring at her damn breasts.
Looking for a distraction as she dries herself, I run my thumb over the old table, touching the dents that have been made over the years by one brother or another. Warmth touches my soul as I recall the fights and fun we had around this table over the years.
My gaze cuts back to her once she finishes drying herself. “I think you know what I mean,” I say.
She blinks rapidly as she sets the napkin on her lap, and reaches for her glass, swallowing what’s left so hard that the sound reverberates around the big empty room. “It’s just…” she begins and stops, her brow furrowed. For a second I think she’s going to tell me, but then she says, “Just a big old house and I’m not the best sleeper, anyway.”
I watch her for a second, note the way her dark lashes are fluttering rapidly. In the cage it’s my job to read my opponent’s body language, and right now hers speaks volumes. “It’s not my business, but if you’re in some kind of trouble, maybe I could help.”
“Why would you want to help?” she blurts out, her gaze jerking upward. “What is it you want?”
My head rears back. Whoa, what the hell did I say to put her on the defense? I hold my hands up, palms out. “Okay, not my business. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I make a move to stand and her trembling hand on my arm stops me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell like that.” She briefly closes her eyes and shakes her head, obviously sorry for that outburst. “It’s just…I guess it’s the world I grew up in. It’s tit for tat you know. No one does anything altruistic. So, I guess I just assumed…”
“Assumed I wanted something,” I say, finishing her sentence. “I don’t, Haven. Despite what you think of me, or what you’ve heard about me,” I say, knowing her brother talked trash about me for years, even though that was for show. It certainly doesn’t mean the world didn’t believe it though, or that Haven doesn’t think I’m a world class prick who preys on the dreams of innocent children. “I was raised to do the right thing.”
She nods, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She looks down for a second and when her head lifts, the worry on her face hits harder than one of Rock’s haymaker punches. My brain is still rattling around in my skull from the last one.
The freckles around her nose bunch when she says, “I…I can’t really say anything.”
“Okay, you can have your secrets, but you’re in my house. I can’t have you bringing trouble here, Haven. I have brothers and cousins to think about. I have Gram to watch over. Here in Blue Bay we protect what’s ours.”