Joy and Tiers (13 page)

Tyler pulls away and rests his forehead against mine. He’s breathing a little heavy as he murmurs, “If we can generate that much of a spark with a simple kiss. It’s mind-boggling to consider the possibilities down the road.”

I nod slightly, moving his head along with mine. “The idea of us together is little daunting, isn’t it?”

Tyler grins widely.
Dear God, the man is gorgeous close-up
. “Yeah, but I don’t do boring, remember? Exciting is my middle name,” he quips.

“Actually, your middle name is Joseph. But, that’s neither here nor there. You do realize there is a chance of spectacular failure, right?” I ask.

Tyler kisses the end of my nose as he replies, “Who’s the pessimist now? I’m just not willing to go there. As the saying goes, ‘I’m in my happy place right now.’ Don’t bug me. Now, you were about to tell me what your real wager is going to be. I’m looking forward to hearing this.”

I start to back away and put some personal space between us, but Tyler grabs my apron strings to anchor me in place.

“Hold on there. Where are you goin’? I like you just fine right where you are.”

“Um, I guess I’m not going anywhere,” I stammer as I blush. I remember Kiera used to complain all the time about how much she blushed when she first met Jeff and how much it annoyed her. I didn’t understand what she was talking about at the time. But, I’m beginning to get a sense of it now. I don’t think I’ve blushed as much in my whole life as I have in the few months since I’ve met Tyler. I feel like my body is suddenly betraying me. I don’t know what’s happening.

 So what was it you wanted again?” Ty prods, a curious expression on his face. 

“Look, I don’t even know if you can do this with your job with the Sheriff’s Department and I don’t want you to get in trouble over it.”

“Wow, with the build up like that, I can’t wait to hear what it is. Don’t hold me in suspense anymore. Just spit it out,” Tyler challenges.

“Okay, okay. It’s really stupid. Promise not to laugh? I want you to teach me how to shoot,” I reply, cringing despite my best intentions.

Tyler’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline as he exclaims “A gun?”

“Yes, of course, a gun! What did you think I meant?” I sputter with a scowl on my face, placing my hands on my hips.

“I’m just curious why you think you need to shoot a gun,” Ty states as he studies my demeanor.

Well, this makes me mad, so I tell him so. “Shall we examine my life during the last two years? A couple of weeks ago, someone broke into my food truck and left behind a couple of souvenir bullet casings. Not to mention this was the second time this year my truck was vandalized, and I actually could’ve been inside. Then there was the crazy ex-father-in-law who went on a rampage at Kiera’s wedding. If that weren’t bad enough there are Mindy’s biological parents who are child abusers and drug addicts. Who’s to say they won’t come after her and Becca and try to take them back? Isn’t that enough craziness in my life to warrant the need to be armed?”

Tyler rakes his hand through his hair in an agitated manner as he says, “I wish it were that easy, Gidget. But, you have to get a concealed weapons permit, and there’s a waiting period before you can purchase a weapon. You’re probably going to need your own weapon because the ones that I have are going to be too large for you.”

I walk over to the freezer and get some keys out and then walk over to the pantry and remove a lockbox. After I unlock it, I remove the contents and place them on the table in front of Tyler. “You mean like this?” I ask.

I wish I had a video camera to capture Tyler’s reaction. I figure it’s roughly equivalent to how I look when I go visit the vintage clothing store in Portland. His eyes widen, and his jaw goes slack. Ty gives a low wolf whistle as he carefully picks up my 1849 Derringer. He practically caresses it as he checks the chamber to make sure there are no bullets loaded, and he grins as he spins the cylinder. He closely examines the elaborate filigree engraving and snow white mother-of-pearl handgrips and checks the date stamp and shakes his head in disbelief.

“Do I need to give you a moment?” I ask with a teasing grin.

“I don’t know, I might just need one,” Tyler admits. “Do you have any idea what you have here? It’s in pristine condition. Did I just see you pull this out of your freezer?” 

“No silly!” I reply. “Who would keep a gun in the freezer? I only keep the keys to the lockbox in the freezer. I don’t want the bad guys to find them.”

“Where did you get this? It’s a museum quality piece,” Tyler states.

“Oh, my grandpa gave it to me. It’s been in my family for years. He said every woman should be able to defend herself. Unfortunately, he passed away before he had a chance to teach me much about shooting. I only got to go target shooting with him twice. The first time, he said he feared for his life because I couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn. But, by the end of the second time, I had gotten much better and was murdering watermelons with frightening ease.” I explain.

“He let you shoot this gun? This
specific
gun? How old were you?” he asks incredulously.

“I don’t know, I guess I was about twelve,” I clarify. “Why? It’s not like I’m a mass murderer or anything. We were shooting at soda cans and watermelons in the middle of his field against a barrier made of hay.”

“Gidget, I wasn’t casting any aspersions on you. It’s just that in the condition that this gun is in, it’s pretty much a priceless antique. If you would’ve dropped it in the dirt or something, you could’ve done irreparable damage to it. I’m just surprised he would take that kind of risk.”

I raise my eyebrow at Tyler as I quip, “Well, I was a pretty cute kid, maybe I was overly persuasive.” 

Tyler’s eyes sparkle with mirth as he says, “You’re still pretty cute. But, I wouldn’t recommend using this gun. If I can find you a suitable replacement, would you consider using a different gun? I think I can find you a modern version of the same gun and let you enjoy the sentimental value of this one.”

 “Really?” I ask, excitement tinging my voice. “Does this mean you’re going to teach me how to shoot?”

“Of course I am,” Ty answers as he gingerly places my gun back in the lockbox. “A deal is a deal. Besides, you have a valid point. If you feel threatened, you should be able to defend yourself. And if you’re planning to carry a gun, you should be properly trained to use it. There is nothing scarier than someone who feels they should carry a gun but doesn’t bother to get the proper training. Do me a favor, though, don’t ever show Mindy you keep the keys to the lockbox in the freezer. You wouldn’t believe how many gun related incidents I go on with the Sheriff’s Department that involve family members. By the way, I give you points for a creative hiding space. I would have never guessed that the container didn’t hold frozen orange juice.”

“For the record, I’m going to state again that I’m not a bimbo,” I respond. “There’s a reason that I hide the keys and keep the gun in the lock box. I may live alone, but I’m not stupid. I know that I have kids coming in and out of my house. It won’t be long before Becca is as curious as Mindy.”

 Tyler has the grace to look chagrined as he says, “I’m sorry. It’s one of the hazards of the job. Sometimes, I forget that I’m not always on duty. If I get this way, you can always tell me to shut up. You can just remind me I’m not always Officer Colton. Sometimes I’m just Ty.”

 Tyler looks so sad and dejected, I feel like I need to do something to remind him this is a casual setting and he’s not on duty right now. So, I step away from the table and back between his legs. I run my hands lightly down the sides of his face, along his angular cheekbones and capture his face between my hands. Then, I slowly kiss him. “There…does that help you remember that I’m on a date with Tyler Colton the private citizen, not Officer Colton, law enforcement officer extraordinaire,” I ask when we finally surface for air.

“Holy smokes, Gidget,” Ty exclaims as he shifts in his chair. “I may never forget or forget every day depending on what gets me more of that. That was incredibly sexy. I think it was dangerously hot because I completely forgot what we’re talking about or why. I just want more kisses like that.”

 The honesty of his response is a huge turn on for me. I meant the kiss to be just a comfort measure, not something more, but my body doesn’t seem to be listening. I try to collect my thoughts as I reply, “Shooting lessons. We were talking about scheduling shooting lessons for me. I’d like some, please. Given all the craziness that’s gone on in my life recently, I think sooner would be better than later, don’t you think?”

“Probably so, Heather. But, for you to get any use out of it at the food truck, you need a concealed weapons permit,” Ty replies.

“Oh, I’ve got one of those. I’ve had it for a while. I got it back when the first break-in happened. I don’t like it when weirdness happens in my life. I want to be able to protect myself and especially Mindy and Becca if I’m babysitting.”

 Tyler looks at me with concern on his face, “Gidget, if you were so freaked out, why didn’t you say something to me before? We could have taken care of this months ago,” he offers.

I blush again. Darn that stupid blushing. “I guess I just didn’t want you to see me as some crazy hysterical female who couldn’t handle my own problems. So, I didn’t say anything. I wish I had said something much sooner because I haven’t been sleeping very well since the first incident and since we found bullets during the second one, I have turned into a real insomniac. Every time I shut my eyes, I think about what would’ve happened if I had been there. Even worse, what if the girls had been visiting me. Sometimes, if it’s an in-service day at school, Mindy comes and volunteers as my cashier. She rakes in the tips better than any veteran waitress I’ve ever seen. But, if we had been in the truck at the time that the bullets were fired, they could have been hurt. Mindy would be heartbroken if she had to stop coming,” I explain, spilling all my words in a rush. It seems like I’ve been holding in my feelings for months now, and it feels very cathartic to let them out even for a moment. I guess I didn’t realize how much I’ve been keeping inside.

“Gidget, we got those guys remember? I don’t think they’ll be bugging you anymore. You just happened to park your truck in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Ty says in a calm and reassuring voice. “But, I’ll be happy to take you to the gun range so you’ll feel better prepared.”

“I just wish I had Tara’s kick ass self-defense skills. Have you seen her in action? She could give Jackie Chan a run for his money. But, I can’t move this big ole’ body like she can,” I comment wistfully.

“First of all, you’re not all that big. Secondly, comparing yourself to Tara is really not fair because Tara has had tons of classes. Does she compare her cooking to yours?”

I practically choke on a snort of laughter as I respond, “Oh Lord, I hope not. If it weren’t for Kiera and me, that girl would have pretty much starved to death in college. Cooking is not her primary gift. She knows her way around the can opener and a box cutter, but that’s about it.”

“Do you judge her for that?” Ty asks, his eyebrow raised in question. 

“Of course not!” I insist. “She didn’t even have a mom to teach her how to cook. So, it would be mean as well as stupid to compare our situations.”

Tyler grabs my hands and holds them between us as he states firmly, “Exactly. So, tell me, sweet Gidget. Why are you so nice to everyone else and so mean to yourself?”

His question brings me up short. He’s absolutely right. I am so willing to cut everyone else a break yet shred myself to pieces for the smallest thing. I’m not exactly sure how he knows that about me. It’s not really something I willingly show to the world, but he seems to have figured it out, nonetheless.

I look up at him. He’s clearly still waiting for an answer. I decide to be brutally honest when usually I would deflect with silly humor. “I don’t know,” I whisper.

“I wish you could see the beautiful woman I see when I look at you,” Ty softly kisses the top of my head. “Let me help you with these dishes. I can’t imagine how many you probably have to do after cooking all that food.”

 Just then my phone rings. My heart sinks when I recognize my father’s ringtone. It’s never a fun phone call from him. What a way to put a damper on a great night. I put my index finger to my lip to indicate to Ty that I need to take the call, and he nods and heads to the kitchen. When I answer the phone, my dad unceremoniously tells me that my grandmother suddenly had a brain aneurysm and has passed away. He further tells me I’m expected to arrive in Texas in a week for funeral services. There are no words of condolence or comfort even though she was my favorite relative and mentor. I sit in stunned silence until I finally start to sob uncontrollably.

As soon as Tyler hears me crying he runs around the corner as if the house is on fire and kneels at my feet. “Heather, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he probes as he pulls out his small flashlight and starts examining my arms and legs for injuries.

Mutely, I shake my head as tears are streaming down my face. I draw in a deep breath and try to explain. “No, it’s my grandma. She d-d-died,” I stammer.

“Aww, Gidget, I’m so sorry. That’s rough. Mine died when I was in Iraq the second time,” Tyler says as he takes my hand and leads me over to the big recliner chair. He sits down on it and pulls me down onto his lap. Normally, I would be embarrassed by this, but he just wraps me up in a huge bear hug and allows me to sob on his shoulder while he holds me tightly. 

He has no way of ever knowing that this used to be my grandfather’s chair. It was the first piece of furniture my grandparents bought together back in the day. After my grandfather died, I paid to have it shipped from Texas and saved up the money to have it recovered in a style similar to the original brown leather my grandfather had in his den. I remember my grandmother telling me stories of how she used to nurse my mom in this chair. I remember my poor grandma trying to teach me how to embroider and cross stitch while I sat Indian style in the huge leather chair. Now, as Tyler is trying to console me in this same chair, it seems as if it’s my last tangible connection to my grandparents.