Handle Me

Reaching between them, Ty found her clit and thrust deep, filling her as he stroked the swollen bundle of nerves.

Her body exploded. This time his name echoed off the wooden walls around them. A surge of satisfaction pounded through him as she clamped down around him. It was more than he could take.

Burying his face in her throat, Ty allowed his release, holding tight to her as a storm raged through him. He thrust hard, drawing out the pleasure as long as he could, selfishly savoring every last drop.

Collapsing to the floor, Ty didn’t notice they were lying on plywood covered with a blanket. He didn’t care that he could hear the faint sounds of people leaving the house, car engines firing.

The only thing that mattered was Van in his arms. He tangled their legs together, tucked her head against his chest and grabbed the other blanket, wrapping it around them.

She didn’t protest. Instead, she curled into him, letting her body melt against his.

Happiness and pain mixed together in his chest. The story of his life. Nothing good ever happened without being accompanied by a kick in the gut.

Van was silent, but not distant. She didn’t pull away. Tonight, he’d take small favors wherever he could get them.

His hand stroked the soft fall of her hair, tangling in the strands as they slipped between his fingers.

“I should probably go back inside, be there to say goodbye to everyone.”

He could tell by her tone that she didn’t really want to. And he didn’t blame her. All day he’d wanted nothing more than to run away from this place...at least, until an hour ago.

“Why bother?”

“Because my parents need me there. Because it’s what I should do.”

“Says who?”

“Every etiquette manual in existence.”

“No one would blame you for disappearing. No one will fault you for needing an escape.”

“But I shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

Ty shifted, tipping her head back so he could look into her eyes. “No one expects you to do the right thing all the time.”

“I expect it.”

He shook his head. “You’ve always put too much pressure on yourself. Just once, let yourself do something unexpected.”

Her mouth quirked up on one side, not quite a smile. “Pretty sure that’s what we just did.”

Her gaze slipped away from his, focusing on something over his shoulder. He wanted to draw her back. Every instinct inside him yelled that if he wanted anything further this was the moment to push.

But he couldn’t.

As much as it hurt, Ty knew exactly what tonight had been. It wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty of experience carrying around pain, hiding it so no one else could see.

Shifting to get more comfortable, Ty tightened his hold on her. “Go to sleep. In the morning you can blame me for your disappearance. Everyone will believe I was drunk off my ass—” like mother, like son “—and you had to pour me into bed.”

Her body stiffened, but after a few seconds she relaxed, a sigh slipping through her parted lips.

It didn’t take five minutes for her breathing to even out and her body to go limp against his. The floor felt hard against his back, but it wasn’t the first time he’d slept on something uncomfortable.

Ty’s arms tightened around Van. He tipped his head back, found the sky through the window in the wall beside them and squeezed his eyes shut.

Just one more thing you’re going to have to forgive me for, buddy. But, I’m going to be honest—I don’t regret a damn moment.

* * *

SAVANNAH GROANED. Her entire body hurt. Her brain felt fuzzy and slow. God, would she never learn that sleeping on the tiny cots in the hospital’s on-call room was a bad idea?

Shifting, her hand grazed something cold and plastic. A groan rolled through her chest as memory slammed home. She wasn’t at the hospital. This pain was all self-inflicted. Though it was fuzzy, she could remember knocking back whiskey from a bottle she’d swiped from Ty.

Van’s eyes popped open.

Ty.

Oh, shit.

Van rolled onto her side and pushed against the hard plywood floor. Her stomach bubbled unhappily. The walls around her wavered.

But a creaking sound filtered through her misery.

For the first time, she realized she was alone. And she hadn’t fallen asleep that way.

The sky was mostly gray through the large window, with fingers of pink and orange just starting to streak across. Van crawled over and used the ledge to lever herself up—just in time to see Ty, his shirt hanging from the pocket of his slacks, shoes dangling from his fingers, sneaking across her parents’ lawn toward the back gate.

She should be grateful he was walking away so she wouldn’t have to face him.

But she wasn’t.

Hurt, anger and indignation slammed through her, causing her sick stomach to roil even more.

God, she would never drink again.

Part of her wanted to go after him. To yell at him, for leaving, for making her feel amazing last night, for dragging her brother into a situation that had ended up killing him. For letting her get drunk and then taking advantage of her.

She wanted to blame Ty Colson for every single thing that was wrong with her life.

But she couldn’t.

Last night, she might have been drunk and reckless, but Ty hadn’t pushed. He hadn’t done anything she didn’t want. As much as she wanted to paint the man as an asshole, she knew him well enough to realize that if she’d said no at any point, he would have stopped.

Instead, she’d begged him for more.

Oh, God. Van sank back down onto her haunches and dropped her head between her knees. Sucking huge gulps of air through her nose, she willed her stomach to settle.

She would not throw up. She would not throw up.

This was better.

Ty had given her something last night that she’d desperately needed. Solace, laughter, release. A chance to forget, even if only for a few moments.

The fact that she’d never felt so whole and connected with anyone else was something she’d simply have to deal with. And get over.

On the bright side, she could mark one-night stand off her bucket list. And with the boy she’d had a teenage crush on. Oh, look, a twofer.

In the quiet silence, she could hear the engine on Ty’s rental turn over. The sound of his tires crunching across pavement, picking up speed as he fled from her neighborhood. From her life.

It hurt. Not that she’d necessarily wanted to wake up with his strong arms cradling her close. That would have been infinitely more awkward than sitting there alone in her misery and embarrassment.

This way, she didn’t have to confront what she’d actually done. It was a little late in life for her to be adding stupid experiences to her resume, but maybe better late than never.

Besides, with Ryan gone, she’d likely never see Ty Colson again.

And that was the way she wanted it.

Really, it was.

2

Four months later

TY STARED AT the perfect house in front of him. Exactly the kind of place he’d expect Van Cantrell to own.

The street was quiet, a subdued neighborhood full of older homes. The kind with gentle laughter, sunny yellow walls and a kitchen with a mom making waffles and chocolate chip cookies.

The kind of home he’d never had.

The kind of life he’d never realized was possible until he’d met Ryan in the second grade. And learned that sporting bruises and going to bed with a rumbling belly weren’t normal.

The neighborhood seemed sluggish. Ty missed the normal weekday rush of people leaving for work. The kids who would likely be running up and down the cracked sidewalks in a few hours were still snuggled under their sheets, dreaming of lazy summer mornings and the remaining weeks with no homework.

Two weatherworn rocking chairs sat on the wraparound front porch, swaying in the hot Texas breeze. Just waiting for someone with a steaming mug of coffee to curl up against the wooden slats and enjoy what little respite the morning offered before summer’s oppressive heat seeped in.

A memory burst through, one he’d been pushing back for months.

Van, sitting in that exact spot, her feet pulled up underneath her. Body slumped, shoulders rounded with grief. A beautiful, golden sunrise gilding her exhausted, tear-stained face.

He’d sat there in a different car, on a different day, and been a voyeur to her pain. He’d wanted to comfort her then. But he’d fought the urge to go to her, wrap her in his arms and wipe each of her tears away.

Because he’d known it was better that way. For both of them. After the night they’d shared together in that tree house...

In that moment, being close to her and seeing the anger and accusation in her eyes again would have destroyed him.

Now silence settled over him, harsh and heavy, pressing tight against his chest. He should get out of the SUV he’d rented at the San Antonio airport—get this over with—but he couldn’t seem to make his body move.

This was the moment he’d been dreading for the last several weeks. But it was as inevitable as it was filled with regret, and guilt, and a grief so bone-deep he couldn’t begin to exorcise it.

The only way he’d gotten through that last trip home was by numbing himself with whiskey...and Van.

Ty’s stomach churned and his hands, still wrapped around the leather-covered steering wheel, went white with tension. Sweat that had nothing to do with the heat trickled down the back of his neck.

God, he didn’t want to walk inside. Didn’t want to look into her gorgeous, pain-filled eyes.

There was no way to fix what was broken—for either of them.

But that didn’t stop him from wishing he could roll back time and change everything. He’d give anything—absolutely anything—to bring Ryan back.

A soft whimper sounded from the backseat and a cold, wet nose nudged against his shoulder. Ty pulled a sudden gulp of air into his lungs, grateful for the jolt, which prevented him from spiraling into a familiar mental tailspin.

The last thing he needed was for Van to find him stalling in her driveway. She knew he was coming this morning. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to check into his hotel first. Better to get this over with.

Carefully unwrapping his fingers from the wheel, Ty reached back and scratched behind Kaia’s ears. She let out another sound, only this time it was full of pleasure. Leaning her head against Ty’s shoulder, she angled her body for a deeper rub.

“I know, girl,” he whispered. “You’re almost home. It’s almost over.”

At least he could make things better for her. Kaia had been through as much trauma and grief as he had. As Savannah had.

He was really hoping that Kaia’s presence would give Van some small measure of comfort. He knew the dog desperately needed some love and affection. He’d fought for months to bring her home because he knew it was what Ryan would have wanted.

Kaia let out a short, sharp bark.

Pushing out a gush of air, Ty tried to laugh. The sound was off, rusty and forced. “I guess it’s time to get this over with.”

Forcefully pulling his gaze from the house, Ty climbed from the car. He opened the back door wide and gave the command for Kaia to jump down. He didn’t bother with a leash. A Belgian Malinois, she’d been trained as an SSD, a specialized search dog, and had spent the better part of five years scenting for explosives and bombs, primarily following voice commands. She was extremely intelligent and very obedient. All of their dogs were.

It was hard not to be partial to his own partner, Echo, waiting for him back in Afghanistan, but he was just as comfortable with Kaia.

The dog’s long, lithe body stretched forward, then didn’t hesitate, bounding from the SUV, and landing on the ground with a stuttered gait. The loss of her left front leg barely even slowed her down.

But Ty remembered. The sight of Ryan’s soot-covered, broken body in the rubble. Kaia, her fur matted with blood—Ryan’s and hers—lying over him. Protecting him. Unwilling to move even as a burning fire raged just feet away, her hair smoking from the heat.

Ty recalled the pain and sadness that had filled her eyes when he had finally reached them, pulling his best friend and the dog who’d tried to protect him to cover—it had been too late to save Ryan. And Kaia had almost lost her life as well.

Weeks of surgery and therapy. Months of waiting for her to be medically cleared, released from service and then pronounced adoptable before he’d been able to even make the argument she should be sent home to Ryan’s family. A trip that he’d paid for out of his own pocket since the military didn’t cover the expense of transporting retired dogs to their new homes.

Worth every goddamn penny. It was the least he owed his best friend.

Ordering Kaia to heel with a simple hand gesture, Ty turned from the car, but then stopped a step away. The dog followed his lead, even without a command, pressing her shoulder against his thigh to compensate for the loss of her limb.

The porch was no longer empty. Van stood there, arms crossed over her chest, watching him. Watching them both.

Her expression was...unreadable. Distant and closed. But that wasn’t unusual when he was around. Did she remember the last time they’d seen each other? Or had she been so affected by the alcohol and grief that the memories had disappeared?

Those memories, the way her body had felt against his. The scent of her skin. The tangy, tempting taste of her mouth... He remembered every second.

But, even if she did remember, he fully expected Van to pretend she didn’t. Because they both knew that single night was a...well, mistake was the wrong word because it implied he hadn’t wanted it to happen, which definitely wasn’t true. That night had been a fantasy, even as he’d known Van was grieving and wanted nothing more than a physical release from the pressure of her loss.

It was clear from her expression that the remote, disapproving woman he’d grown to expect was back today. Van hadn’t always been that way with him. There’d been a time when he’d considered her as much a friend as Ryan. But it had been a long while since that was true.

Her skin was still creamy pale. Her hair, loose and blowing in the soft morning breeze, a rich, dark brown that bordered on black. Her eyes were a pale green and he knew, up close, they had flecks of golden brown shot through them.

But it was the tilt of her chin that always got him. The cool, calm bravado she approached everything with. Competence and confidence. Van’s philosophy was very much to fake it till you make it.

Nothing ruffled her feathers, least of all him.

A stinging pain lanced through his chest. Ty stopped himself from reaching up to rub at it, the motion a pointless reflex. He knew by now that nothing would take it away.

He took a step forward. Kaia lurched up, hop-stepping in time with his movements, staying perfectly even with his hip as he moved to close the gap between them.

Something sharp flashed through Van’s gaze as she watched the dog’s halting progress. Her body swayed as they reached the front steps, as if she wanted to reach out. Help.

But she didn’t.

Ty didn’t stop at the bottom. He didn’t even pause at the top. He kept moving until he could feel the heat drifting from her body. Leaning down into her personal space, he pressed his lips to her temple. Her body stiffened. He wasn’t touching her anywhere else, but he could still feel it. Her tension radiated out like a magnet flipped to its opposing pole, trying to push him away.

“It’s good to see you, Van.”

She didn’t respond. Didn’t have to. He knew she didn’t agree.

Pulling away from him, her gaze skittered over his face for several seconds, then down his body, tracing each arm, his torso, legs and feet, until it came to rest at the dog sitting patiently beside him.

“Kaia?” she finally asked in her soft, smooth voice, the one that always sent a wave of longing washing over him. Today was no different.

Ty nodded, placing a hand on the furred head at his hip, scratching behind her ears.

Van slowly sank in front of him. She didn’t reach out to the dog. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her own folded legs, hugging her body into a tight ball. The two stared at each other for several seconds, neither of them moving.

Finally, she extended a hand. Her fingers trembled. If he hadn’t been watching he might not have noticed the tiny crack in her smooth exterior. Van was good at bottling her emotions. Until she wasn’t, and then the explosion...

He’d experienced her anger and passion on several occasions. It was a sight to behold.

Her wide mouth tugged down at the corners, the hint of a frown.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed out, her fingers slipping hesitantly over the spot where the vet had sewn up Kaia’s leg. The dog didn’t flinch or move, just sat quietly.

Van’s hand drifted upward, coming to rest on the fuzzy head. She looked straight into Kaia’s watchful gaze and whispered, “Thank you.”

Ty fought against the lump forming in his throat. He wanted to look away, but the motion of Van standing up pulled his attention back.

This time her gaze flicked over him quickly, there and away. She turned her back to him, tossing words over her shoulder. “I guess you should come in.”

* * *

VAN DIDN’T WANT him there. Didn’t want him in her home.

She didn’t bother to look back to see if he was following her inside. She didn’t have to. She knew.

Where Ty Colson was concerned, she had a sixth sense and always had. Growing up, he’d been a fixture in her family. Ryan had been his shadow, following his lead into whatever trouble the wild boy could dream up.

And, oh, Ty could dream up a shit-ton of trouble.

She’d been the annoying little sister relentlessly tagging along. The high-pitched voice of reason always cautioning that they were going to get caught and punished. Quick to say, “I told you so,” when her predictions came true.

But somewhere along the way, her childish fascination with him morphed into something more. An adolescent crush that made her feel awkward around the boy she’d known most of her life.

To her, Ty Colson was perfect. Adventurous. Wild and uninhibited. Remote to almost everyone...except her. There were times she’d envied the freedom he always had, even as she realized it meant no one at home cared enough to rein him in. She’d seen his wounds and wanted nothing more than to soothe them.

Until his antics got both boys in real trouble and sent her brother’s life careening off course.

Her simple, innocent attraction to him had gotten muddled up with resentment and blame. Not that those emotions had stemmed the physical awareness.

So damn frustrating.

Even now, Van could feel him, walking several paces behind her. She could sense the motion of his body as he tempered his gait to match the wounded dog at his side.

She couldn’t seem to turn off the relief she’d felt when he’d first walked up, her gaze devouring him, searching for signs of wear and injury. There’d been a pressure in her chest until she could see for herself that he was okay. Even as her brain told her she shouldn’t care.

God, what was wrong with her? Ty had gotten her brother killed. Maybe not directly, but he was responsible. Ryan never should have been in Afghanistan. Never should have become a dog handler, searching the unforgiving terrain for explosive devices just waiting to maim and kill.

Van walked straight back to the kitchen, which looked out onto the yard. When she was growing up, her family had always gathered in the kitchen. Now, in her own home, the kitchen gave her peace—it was the place she came to when she needed a break from the storm her life could be.

It was the only place where she felt like she could breathe deeply.

Out of the corner of her eye, she registered Ty standing in the middle of her doorway. Just there, watching, waiting. For what, she wasn’t sure. And that left her restless.

Needing something to do, Van lifted the mug of coffee she’d left on the counter when she’d heard Ty drive up and took a sip, making a face when she realized it had gone cold.

Nothing worse than cold coffee.

Dumping it out, she popped another pod into the machine, pushed the button and let it run.

This day was going to require copious amounts of caffeine.

Not only was she an emotional wreck, but she’d just gotten off back-to-back shifts at the hospital. They’d had a late-night trauma call, gunshot to the abdomen. The guy had coded on her table twice before finally stabilizing enough for them to transport him to surgery.

Even now, she had no idea if he’d made it or not. One of the downfalls of ER medicine. She patched them up, sent them either out the door or on to someone else and then rarely knew what happened next.

But the rush of saving someone’s life...worth every second of exhaustion.

While her coffee was brewing, Van reached into a cupboard and pulled down a bright turquoise Fiesta bowl. She filled it with water and placed it on the floor near the sink.

“Do you have food for her?” she asked.

There was no point in pleasantries with the man who’d sauntered closer and was now leaning against the edge of her kitchen island. Way too much history between them to bother.

“In the car. I’ll get it in a bit.”

The low timbre of his voice slipped across her skin, giving her goose bumps. He might as well have touched her, given the effect he had.

Dammit.

Clenching her teeth, Van turned. Better to get this over with.

“How long will you be in town?”

There was a part of her that didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know when he’d be returning to the same dangerous place that had taken her brother. But the rest of her needed to know just how long she’d have to deal with the tension stringing her body so tight she was afraid she might snap.

“I’ve got two weeks. I figured I’d stay here for a bit. The town council asked me to ride with Kaia as marshal in the Fourth of July parade.”

Great. They’d asked her to as well. Not that she’d expected to avoid him the entire time, but she was hoping to minimize their interaction.

Van just nodded, keeping the information that she’d be there, too, to herself. Maybe she could find a way out of it. If he was there, what did they need her for?

It was bad enough that they were going to be honoring Ryan. She wasn’t sure she could deal with the pain of it all again. Losing him was still too raw.

“I’ll see how you and Kaia are coming along with your training. If you guys are good then I might head to a beach somewhere for a few days before I go back.”

“Training?”

A frown creased the spot right between his blue-gray eyes. She’d always been fascinated with them. The color was so...unusual. And it changed depending on what he wore or what mood he was in.

When she was younger, she used to make up excuses to loiter in the same room as the boys, pretending to read a book or watch a movie. In reality, she’d observed him. Noticed how he guarded himself with everyone—except her family.

As a teenager, she’d watched him go through girls, and fought against the jealousy she couldn’t quite conquer. He’d take them out. Treat them like queens. But never really give them anything of himself. No girl lasted more than a few weeks.

In high school, he’d gotten a reputation for being aloof, but stellar in bed. Details she really hadn’t wanted to know—because it only made her fantasies about him worse—but couldn’t quite escape. Van had gotten sick of being the go-to girl for information and advice on how to catch him. Everyone seemed to think she held the code.

And maybe she did. She had to admit, it’d felt amazing to have him come up to her during a football game, sling his arm around her shoulder and include her in whatever conversation he had going.