Carly Phillips - Cross My Heart

Knowing that, Ty wouldn’t be putting himself out there for her in a way that would guarantee heartache and pain again. He slowly removed his hand.

“What does the fact that my uncle is getting married have to do with me?” Lilly finally asked, meeting his gaze with a hooded one of her own.

“His marriage is an aside, actually. He’s also decided to have you declared legally dead in order to get his hands on your trust fund.”

Her eyes opened wide and the color drained from her cheeks, leaving her pale. With a groan, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. “The man is such a prick,” she said.

“That about sums it up.” Ty chuckled at her apt description.

Watching her reaction to the news, he didn’t know how he’d finish explaining the other reason he’d come. But then he reminded himself that although she appeared fragile and in need of protection, she had a deep internal strength that had served her all these years.

Ty cleared his throat and dove in. “You know this means you’re going to have to come home.”

Her eyes snapped open, her gaze one of horror. “No. No way.”

He’d expected her initial resistance, at least until she had time to think things through. “So you’re going to just hand over your trust fund without a fight?”

She shrugged. “I’ve done fine without it.”

He rose from his seat and began to walk around her small but cheery apartment. “I’m not going to argue the point. But it isn’t his money to take. Your parents left it to you and you’re still alive and well. It’s one thing to leave the money untouched, another to let that bastard get his hands on it.”

She inhaled deeply, her indecision and pain evident. “How’s your mom?”

He eyed her warily. “We’ll have to get back to the subject eventually.”

“I know but give me a chance to chew on it for a little while. So how is your mother?”

He nodded, accepting Lilly’s need for time. “Mom’s fine. She has a heart condition now but with medication and diet she’s the same old Mom.” Ty tried not to let his tone change when discussing his mother but the first thing that came to his mind was the cash deal Flo Benson had made with Marc Dumont.

As a kid, Ty had been blind to the truth even when his mother had started to buy them nicer things. He’d remained in the dark when she’d surprised him with a car on his twentieth birthday, claiming she’d used her savings. He’d gone to college with much less in student loans than he’d thought he’d need, and once again his mother said she’d been saving. He realized now he hadn’t wanted to see bad in his only parent, so he’d ignored the signs that something was wrong.

“How’d Flo take my-uh-disappearance?” Lilly asked. “It was hard for me, thinking about how much she must have suffered, believing I died while in her care.” Lilly’s eyes grew soft and damp at the memory.

Ty understood. He’d felt the same way. “Mom felt guilty,” he admitted. “She blamed herself. She wished she’d kept a better eye on you.”

“I’m sorry for that. I loved her, you know.” A smile curved her lips. “And Hunter? How is he?”

A much easier subject, Ty thought. “He’s fine. He’s turned into a stuffed shirt. He’s a suit-wearing lawyer, believe it or not.”

“So he can argue and stand up for himself legally now. Good for him.” She grinned, obviously pleased and proud of the news. “And you? Did you go to college the way we talked about?” she asked hopefully.

Ty and Hunter had shared a room while Lilly had a bed in an alcove off the kitchen which Flo had turned into a comfortable nook Lilly called her own. Ty recalled sneaking into her bed one night and they talked until morning-about his mother’s desire to see her son in college and his plan to fulfill that dream. Back in those days he’d been so focused on making his mother proud and repaying her for all she’d given him, he hadn’t let his own dreams see the light of day.

He still wasn’t sure what those dreams were since his plans were so tied up in his mother’s. Lilly’s hopes for him were based in the fantasy they’d woven as kids. Ty’s life now was based in a different reality.

“I went to college,” he said. “And then I dropped out.”

Her pretty mouth opened wide.

“Now I’m a bartender.”

She furrowed her brows, her curiosity and disbelief evident. “And what else are you?” she asked.

“A bartender’s a good, solid job. What makes you think I’m also something else?”

She leaned in close. “Because you never could sit still and just tending bar would be too boring for you,” she said, obviously certain she still knew him that well.

She did. “I’m a private investigator, too. Now are you coming home or not?”

She exhaled, transforming in front of his eyes from secure female to exhausted woman. “I need time to think about it. And before you push me harder, you should know that maybe is as much of an answer as I can give you right now.”

“I hear you,” he said, his tone laden with understanding. He figured she’d need time and since Hawken’s Cove was three hours away, he knew her indecision would mean a night or two in New York.

He rose and started for the door.

“Ty?” she asked, rushing after him, dog at her heels.

“Yeah?” He paused and turned too fast. She skidded to a halt, bumping into him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

All the questions he’d lived with for ten years were suddenly answered. Her scent wasn’t as sweet as he remembered, it was more sensual and warm, more enticing and inviting. Her skin glowed and her cheeks flushed as their gazes met and lingered.

She licked her lips, leaving a tempting moistness behind.

Understanding and yearning mixed together in one confusing yet arousing package.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

He’d looked into a local hotel but thanks to conventions and who knows what else, all the affordable places were booked. He’d packed his bag anyway and decided expensive or not, he’d have to take a hotel room because asking Lacey if he could bunk on her couch seemed like a damn stupid idea.

“To my car. I need to find a hotel.”

“You could…umm…stay here,” she offered, her hand sweeping in a grand gesture toward the couch.

He knew better than to say yes. But he couldn’t deny the desire to spend what little time they’d have together getting reacquainted.

“I’d appreciate that.” He glanced at the couch, hoping the damn piece of furniture was comfortable. Because having made his decision, he sure as hell wasn’t.

“Good. I’d like to spend more time catching up,” she said, her voice deeper and more throaty than before.

Or maybe it was his imagination overloading his senses. It didn’t matter. Ty was in deep trouble, and probably something a whole lot more.

LACEY COULDN’T SLEEP. Ty was stretched out on her couch and her traitor dog, who usually slept beside Lacey, had chosen to bunk with her guest in the other room. The worst part was she couldn’t blame the pooch for wanting to snuggle up against Ty’s warm, hard body. She had the urge to do the same thing herself.

She’d missed him badly, especially in the early days, and seeing him again had opened the floodgates of feelings she’d kept walled off and in check. Her emotions were in complete turmoil. And Ty wasn’t the only reason.

Memories of her family overwhelmed her, as well. Losing her parents had left a hole in her heart that had never been filled. Certainly her awful uncle hadn’t helped ease the pain. Like Cinderella, who’d lost her father and been left with an evil stepmother, Lacey had been abandoned and betrayed at an age when she didn’t know how to handle it. She hadn’t even had grandparents to turn to, she recalled sadly.

Her parents had had Lilly later in life and all her grandparents had already passed away. Although her father had two brothers, Marc and Robert, her parents weren’t close with either one. Only Marc, her single uncle, lived nearby. Robert had married and moved to California years ago, so it made sense that her parents left her with Marc. And at least she’d had a recollection of seeing her uncle Marc on the occasional holiday. There was no family on her mother’s side because her mother had been an only child.

Ironically, the money Ty wanted Lacey to claim had been handed down on her mother’s side for generations. Lacey was the sole heir. There might even be stipulations in the event of her death about the money going to her father’s family. She didn’t know. Because her parents had rarely discussed the inheritance. Instead her father always focused on his day job, the auto body shop he owned that specialized in restoring classic cars.

After her parents’ car accident in hurricanelike weather, Uncle Marc had come to live in her family home and he’d taken over her father’s business. And he’d loved the concept of the estate, the grounds, and playing lord of the manor. Lord of Lilly, she remembered bitterly.

From the beginning, he’d tried to make her obligated to him in any way he could. At first he’d been the kindly uncle and she’d fallen for his act. How could she not when at sixteen, she desperately needed someone to count on? But she’d noticed his drinking right away and she’d learned to stay far away the drunker he became. One afternoon she’d come home early from school and heard him on the phone discussing how he needed Lilly to sign her rights to the trust over to him while she was young or else he’d lose his chance to manipulate her in any way. By the time she turned twenty-one, he needed her to trust him enough that she’d sign anything he asked without question. Including the rights to invade the principal on her trust fund.

Even at sixteen, she’d understood the concept of betrayal and this was a big one. Anger and hatred had welled up inside her, and she’d decided then to make his life as difficult as possible. She’d become a rebellious teen. He’d responded by cracking down and becoming increasingly abusive in the hopes that she’d back down out of fear. When her behavior didn’t change, he’d carried out a threat she never believed he’d implement.

He’d had her placed in foster care-temporarily he’d said-just long enough to scare her. He’d wanted her to be so grateful to come home that she’d not only toe the line, she’d be easy to control, trust fund and all. Thanks to Ty and Hunter, he’d never gotten the chance.

Back then Lilly hadn’t been concerned with the legalities or with the money since she knew it wasn’t hers until she turned twenty-one, as her uncle constantly reminded her. By then she’d had the beginnings of a life and enough inbred fear of her uncle to remain far away. She assumed the money had remained untouched and had been content to let it stay that way.

She swiped at the tears that had begun running down her face. Remembering her parents and all she’d lost was never easy, but recalling the time afterward caused her stomach to churn and the old anger and resentment to flare up. She’d gone from her parents’ princess to her uncle’s piece of property, something he could kick out of her own home on a whim.

That thought cemented her decision. Lacey didn’t need the money her parents had left her. After all, she’d lived without the extras for so long, she rarely thought about them now. But there was no way she wanted her bastard uncle to profit from her parents’ deaths. He’d run her father’s business into the ground shortly after taking over, and he’d claimed ownership of her childhood home. She wasn’t about to let him have anything more.

Lacey wasn’t vindictive by nature. She had a life here that she was proud of, one she’d worked hard to build and maintain, which had prompted her initial reluctance to return home with Ty. But the thought of her uncle enjoying anything more at her expense churned her stomach nearly as much as thinking about her uncle and her past.

Ty was right. She’d have to go home.

Lacey climbed out of bed and slipped on her favorite pair of slippers, a fuzzy pair that were soft enough to feel like an old friend. She headed to the kitchen for a midnight snack, tiptoeing on the way, careful not to wake Ty. Careful not to stop and watch him sleep and risk rousing warm feelings for a man she no longer knew, but one she wanted to know again.

She poured a glass of milk, pulled the Oreos out of the refrigerator and settled into the corner she jokingly called her kitchenette. In reality it was a small table at the end of the entry hall.

“Mind if I join you?” Ty asked, just as she dunked her first cookie into the cold milk.

Without waiting for a reply, he sat in the only other chair that fit around the table, Digger curling at his feet. Ty was shirtless, wearing only his partially zipped jeans, unsnapped at the waist. A low light glowed from the kitchen, casting them in shadows, but even in the darkness surrounding them, she could see enough to admire how broad his chest had become, how drop-dead sexy he was.