My Tye (20 page)

But at the same time, he didn’t want to rush her. Tonight wasn’t about him and his fucking libido. It was about the two of them getting to know each other better, about him getting her out of the house to prevent a surefire case of the stir-crazies.

Once again, he called on his patience to quiet himself down. A little part inside him wanted to kick all of his woosah-calm-the-hell-down demeanor to the curb and take her right here and now, but he stifled that compulsion too. Because, truly, God help him if he didn’t.

He sipped his wine and stepped up beside her. He laid his hand at the small of her back, teasing her by rubbing tiny circles there. The look she gave him when he did overflowed with a strange combination of angst and serenity. The polarity between the two emotions struck him hard, and for the first time in a long time he didn’t know what to say.

Good thing she was able to take up the slack.

“I love the colors in this. Sex and Sapphire,” she read from the plaque below the grouping. “Fitting.”

She sipped her wine then, too.

“It’s definitely sexy,” he added.

“More sensual, really. I mean, look at her face,” she said thoughtfully as her fingers hovered over the photo of the woman and the man with the flogger. “And his. These two know each other. They might even be lovers. You can see it in the way they’re touching each other.”

“Or maybe the photographer is just that good?” he countered.

She shrugged and sipped her wine again. “Possibly. But, I don’t know. I guess I prefer to believe that there’s a connection between the two of them.” She turned away from the grouping and moved on. “Or maybe that’s just naïve wishful thinking.”

That stumped him. “Wishful thinking?”

“Yeah. That something like that, like the sensuality in that picture, can be real.”

“You don’t think it is?”

“I’d like to think so.” She turned around to face him. “But it’s not like I have any personal experience with it.”

He didn’t know why, but he found that hard to believe. “None?”

She shook her head slightly. “Nothing serious. Unless you count the glimpse you gave me the other night.”

Fuck yeah, he did.

“But then… Well, you haven’t touched me since.”

Oh,
hell
.

“Wait a minute,” he said, setting his glass on the rung of a nearby ladder. “That’s not because I didn’t want to. You were hurting afterward. It was too soon. Too much for you. I want you to be healed—”

“I hate that you think you have to hold back.” She set her glass next to his. “I’ll let you know when I’ve had too much, I promise. The last few days have been…safe. I’ve felt protected. And don’t get me wrong, I needed that. I needed it times ten. But if you’re not who you need to be, too…”

“I told you before not to worry about me.”

“But I’m starting to,” she said, fingering his tie and straightening it a little.

He had to smile at that. “Why?”

He waited for her to return his smile with one of her own, but she didn’t. “I don’t want anything one-sided between us. I couldn’t handle that.”

If she were only talking about the balance between them as a Dom and a sub in a relationship, he might have to disagree with her. But he knew that wasn’t what she meant. His smile fell away as he closed in on her, and when he took her into his arms, she practically melted into him.

“Then maybe I should tell you how much I’m dying to get you out of here. How badly I want to take you home and show you what I’ve spent most of the last four days only thinking about.”

She slid her hands up his arms, resting them on his biceps and squeezing gently. “Maybe you should.”

“You’ve seen enough?” he asked.

She stared into his eyes a moment before answering him. “I’ve seen everything I need to see.”

That was exactly what he wanted to hear. “Then let’s get out of here.”

Tye took the lead as they turned to leave. He kept his arm around her, retracing their steps through the exhibits and heading straight for the back door. She kept pace, buzzing with the same urgency that Tye’s entire body radiated. It was only when he opened the thick steel door that the rush inside her died away, suddenly replaced with the heavy weight of pure dread.

“Shit,” Tye muttered.

Laine didn’t know all that many people in town, not outside the court system, local government and law enforcement offices. But the person standing next to Tye’s truck, she knew. And she wished to hell and back that she didn’t.

Haven Sims, investigative reporter extraordinaire, or at least Haven liked to think she was. To most, she was simply known as a major pain in the ass.

Her name sounded so nice. So unconventional, yet sickeningly sweet. Laine knew both firsthand and from others that she was anything but. She could be a vicious, headline grabbing, story twisting witch. Their town wasn’t overly big, neither was their county, for that matter. But Haven thought of herself as the next Lisa Ling, the one person who could put Lake County on the so-called map. Her aspirations to star on
Dateline
or any other heavy-hitting news show was laughably well-known.

But just because she was the butt of a few jokes didn’t mean she couldn’t stir up a big ol’ pot of trouble. And that she somehow discovered they were here, that she was standing outside waiting for them—at the darkened rear of the gallery, no less—with her hackles raised, ready to pounce…

Damn it, they didn’t need this. Not now.

Not ever.

Still, Laine figured she ought to be grateful it was just Haven out here, and that she wasn’t loaded for bear with an entire film crew at her disposal. Of course, as soon as Laine thought that, Haven’s flunky cameraman crept out from behind the truck and joined in rushing right up to them.

“Sheriff Carter, mind if I ask you a few questions?” Haven asked.

Tye stiffened beside Laine. “I’m off duty,” was his barley controlled answer as he kept her moving toward the truck.

“Oh come on, Carter,” Haven chided. “Everyone knows you’re never off duty. It’s just a couple of simple questions.”

Yeah, right. Haven and simple never quite went together. And Laine knew this time wasn’t going to be the lone exception to that rule.

Tye slid his arm out from around Laine and casually pushed her behind him, trading sides with her while staying somewhat in front of her. It was worth a shot, but there was no way that would keep Haven from striking out at her as well.

“What about you, Ms. Morgan? Since my questions really have to do with you, anyway.”

Tye spoke up, shifting his position toward the side as Haven tried to maneuver around him. “She has no comment,” he said just as Haven tossed out, “There’s been rumors you were hurt. Attacked.”

Even though her stomach now resided at her feet, something else inside Laine flipped. She’d suddenly never been so relieved to be surrounded by shadows and darkness in her life.

But then…

The cameraman hefted his video camera onto his shoulder seconds before she was engulfed in a wash of bright light. As he adjusted the camera’s lens to adjust the focus, he swooped over to the right to get into a better shooting range.

Oh hell no.

Laine had never once shied away from a confrontation, but this time was different. This had nothing to do with her job or her public persona. Not a single thing. This was about her, personally. And she’d be damned if she’d let this reporter or her sidekick expose any part of her personal life.

Just as she moved to step around Tye to reinforce that “no comment” stance, he lunged toward the photographer to cover the camera’s lens with his hand. As big and forceful as Tye was, his threatening push forward didn’t seem to faze the tall and lanky guy in the least. Not until Tye got up in his face.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The cameraman paused, looking from Tye to Haven, like he wasn’t sure what she wanted him to do.

“Don’t look at her,” Tye said. “This is between you and me. I’m telling you to back off. Now.”

There was a certain gruffness to Tye’s demand, one that speared into Laine and heated her up as she gripped his arm to hold him back from what could be the start of a bloody brawl.

After a moment of hesitation, the guy must’ve figured that going toe to toe with the County Sheriff probably wasn’t the most brilliant career move. He pointed his camera toward the ground, held up his other hand and took a few steps back.

“What are you doing?” Haven shouted, berating the flunky. “Get the film, Matt. Don’t listen to him. We have the freedom of—”

Even though Laine had a good hold on him, it was Haven’s turn to get a face full of Tye. “Don’t even think about pulling the first amendment with me, Ms. Sims. I told you once that Ms. Morgan has no comment. I’d suggest you let it go at that. Don’t make me haul you in for harassment.”

Not even Tye could intimidate the ballsy Ms. Sims, it seemed. As she wiggled her hips a step or two closer to him, Laine wanted nothing more than to slap the smirk right off her face.

“Hmm. So testy. And so quick to throw your
no comment
out there, too, Sheriff. I can usually get you to answer at least a few of my questions. Makes me wonder why not now. Makes me wonder what’s up.”

“Keep wondering,” Tye tossed out as he opened the truck’s passenger door and helped Laine climb inside.

“Oh, I will. Don’t you worry about that.”

Laine didn’t hear Tye’s response since he closed the door almost as quickly as he’d opened it. But judging from the look on his face as he came around the front of the truck and climbed in as well, he hadn’t been overly nice.

“That woman is a thorn in my side,” he muttered as he started the truck.

Laine knew more than a few people around the courthouse who would wholeheartedly agree with him. “I’m actually surprised it took her this long to find me. Somebody at the hospital must’ve talked.”

“No doubt.”

It was clear that running into Haven Sims tonight—especially here at the gallery—wasn’t an accident. And that it wasn’t had Laine concerned for the first time since the attack that someone other than Tye might discover she’d visited Club Euphoria. The repercussions from that could be huge. “Think she’ll dig?”

“Like a goddamned hound who’s cornered his fox.”

The conviction in his voice struck another nerve. “Great,” she muttered.

Tye steered away from the gallery, and away from the prying eyes of Haven and Matt. “She’s not going to find anything. You were found in town here, outside Pete’s place. No one other than Jack knows where you were beforehand. And since yours is an isolated incident, there’s no reason to divulge anything to the press or drag the name of the club into it at all.”

“You’re right,” she said quietly, if not a little uncertainly.

“Trust me, I am. And even if the original location of your assault was released, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing happened on the club premises. You were what? A block or two away? For all anyone would know, you’d just had dinner at that little Greek restaurant down at the other end of the street.”

She supposed hearing him say that should make her feel better, but in truth it only made her angrier. “Wouldn’t it be nice if where I was wasn’t an issue at all?” she thought out loud. “If there was no judgment and people could do as they please.”

He lowered his voice, too. “Unfortunately, that’s not realistic.”

“I know. And I hate that it’s not.”

He slid his arm across the back of the bench seat. “Come here.”

When she scooted over next to him, he wrapped his arm around her and continued to steer one-handed. “No matter how much we may not like it, discrimination’s never going to go away. So we deal as best we can. We chose to live publicly with our careers, but that doesn’t mean we’re not entitled to a little privacy, too.” He nuzzled the top of her head with his chin before leaning in closer to whisper in her ear. “What we do when we’re alone is nobody’s business but ours.”

No, it certainly wasn’t. And she hadn’t forgotten why they were leaving the gallery in such a rush in the first place. She glided her hand down his thigh toward his knee as they drove on, feeling bolder than she had in ages. The muscle there flexed under her hand and she squeezed gently, loving the power he held so effortlessly within his body.

“Still, you didn’t have to do that. I was ready to step up and—”

“Yes I did,” he cut it in. “It’s my job to make sure no one gets close to you.”

“Tye, I can handle a reporter.”

“I know you can. But with me, you don’t have to.”

Through each glare and fade of the passing streetlights, he clenched his jaw tighter. She knew she should say something more to reiterate the fact she could take care of herself in situations like this, but she was too caught up in him, in the moment. Instead, she made a conscious decision to let it go and reversed direction, skimming her hand back up his leg as she soaked in the heat emanating through the wool of his dress pants. At the crease where his leg met his hip, she hesitated. God, she wanted to touch him. Through his pants, out of his pants, right now it didn’t matter.