Tangling With Ty (9 page)

“Goodbye,” Nicole said firmly and put her hand on Taylor's face to hold her out as she finally closed the door.

Her relief was short-lived.

Ty had turned his head toward her. His eyes were open. Clear.

Curious.

“Hey.” She came forward, wondering how much he'd overheard. “How's the head? You doing okay?”

“You could have told them you had me
nearly
naked but don't know what to do with me.”

He'd heard it all. Perfect. “Oh, I know what to do with you,” she assured him. “I just…” She stopped the teasing words because his eyes had gone so hot it caused a mirroring flame inside her.

For just a moment she wondered what it would be like to let him kiss her again, this time allowing him to peel off her clothes and make love to her. Eager for exactly that, her body actually leaned toward him in a show of willingness, but she had to remember, he was destined to walk away.

At least she was smart enough to know that wouldn't work for her, walking away. “I just…”

“Come here, Nicole.”

He was sprawled on the futon. A light blanket covered his long legs and lap, but had fallen away from the rest of him, leaving his chest and arms bare. Bare and roped with muscles.

And bruises. “Are you feeling better, Ty?”

“Are you coming here?”

She pressed back against the door. “No, that's not such a good idea right now.”

His eyes were still hot but he just lifted a shoulder, the fact he was too weary to move working in her favor. “I'll take the laptop.”

She held it to her chest. “I don't think you should work.”

“I don't think you should worry about it.”

If she'd fallen on her head she'd probably be feeling nasty, too, so she gave in. Sort of. “Come get it,” she said, holding it out.

“Come and get it?” he repeated incredulously.

“That's right.”

“You're into S and M, right?” He struggled to his feet, and the blanket fell away from him. His shorts were low on his hips, and for some reason, her gaze attached itself to that area of his body and couldn't be torn away.

Then she caught him trying to hide his grimace of
pain, and she had to lock her hands on the computer in order not to rush over there and do something stupid, like touch him.

“When I get over there,” he warned her grimly, trying to straighten. “I'm going to—”

“Fine.” Damn him, he looked so pale. “Here.” She moved toward him before he took a single step and gently pushed him back down, putting the computer on his lap. “Work. I don't care.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” She turned away. “I'll just…” What? Suzanne had just provided lunch. What else was there to do?

You could stare at him all day.

“I don't suppose you'd do me a favor,” he said a little gruffly.

She turned back. “I am
not
helping you take a shower.”

He stared at her for a flash before letting out a laugh that ended in a quick grab to his ribs and a groan. “Measurements,” he grounded out. “I need you to go downstairs and measure a few things for me so I can get something done while I'm wasting your day.” He hadn't bothered to cover himself back up. The sight of a nearly nude male body shouldn't have stirred her, not when she saw such things all the time.

But she had to admit, it wasn't every patient that had a body like his.

“Can you do that?” he asked.

“I suppose.” He shouldn't work, but who the hell was she to mother the stubborn man? They didn't have a relationship or a commitment. He'd never get serious enough to have a commitment. And it wasn't as if they cared about each other.

Okay,
she
cared. Knowing that, and because she needed to get away from the sight of him for a few minutes, she snatched the paper he offered her out of his hands and headed toward the door.

“You'll need a measuring tape,” he called out. “And be careful when you—”

“I think I can manage a few measurements.” Taylor would have a measuring tape. And Suzanne would have ice cream. Because damn if she didn't need something good and fattening to take her mind off the other craving she had.

For one Ty Patrick O'Grady.

 

B
ECAUSE
N
ICOLE
was hoping Ty had gone back to sleep, and because she had to make sure she was entirely under control before she saw him again, she took her time about getting the measurements he needed.

And if she stopped at Suzanne's apartment and
mooched three brownies and a scoop of ice cream off her first, who was going to care?

Except her jeans.

When she finally walked back into her apartment, the living room was empty. So was the kitchen.

She found him on her bed. His laptop was open and hooked up to her phone line. He had his e-mail program open but his eyes were not.

“Ty?”

He didn't budge. He was sprawled on his back, his head turned slightly away, his chest rose and fell evenly with his deep breathing. Bruises bloomed on one side, and because he once again hadn't bothered with covers, she could quite clearly see his swollen ankle. He needed to ice that, and probably take more meds, she thought, moving closer. She'd just check his vitals first, and—

And the e-mail caught her eye.

Nicole stared at the letter, her heart in her throat at Margaret Mary's raw need. And if
she'd
felt it, what had Ty felt?

“Did you see enough?”

Nicole nearly leapt out of her skin. Looking groggy, sleepy, unrested and irritable, Ty struggled to get up.

“No,” she said, reaching for him. “Just stay—”

He slapped the computer closed. “Yeah, I'll stay. I'll stay the hell out of your way. If you'll stay out of mine.”

N
ICOLE STARED
at Ty as he got to his feet and very carefully straightened.

“Where did that come from?” she asked.

“Forget it.” He looked around. “Where are my clothes?”

“Right there,” she said, pointing to the folded stack on her nightstand. “But—”

“I have stuff I have to take care of.” He grabbed his pants, then looked at them with a pained expression, as if he knew getting them on was going to hurt like hell. Jaw tight, he shook them out, then bent slightly at the waist. Sweat broke out on his brow and he wavered for a second.

“Oh, Ty. Get back in bed.”

“Since I doubt that's an invitation,” he said, his voice more than a little strained, “I'll pass, thanks.”

“I don't get it. Your options were staying in the hospital for observation or coming home with me. You agreed, so what's changed?”

“I told you. I have things to do.”

“Like go to the youth hostel?”

His head whipped toward her.

“I, um…” She clasped her hands together and rocked back on her heels. “I saw more of the e-mail than I meant to.”

“You see more of everything than you're meant to.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” He waved away her efforts to help him, though he had to sit back down to work his pants up. By the time he stood again, his chest had a fine sheen of sweat on it and he was breathing like a mistreated racehorse. Getting his shirt on took another long, painful moment, during which time Nicole watch the tattooed design on his bicep bunch as he struggled. She bit her lip and clenched her fists to keep from helping.

And then he was heading toward the door.

“Ty—” When he looked at her impatiently, she sighed. “You can't drive on those painkillers I gave you.”

“I didn't take the last two.”

“You didn't—” She shook her head, understanding now why he was hurting so badly. “You really are a fool.”

“No shit, doc.” He had his computer tucked against his good side, and was half out the door, but he hesitated. “Thanks.”

“For what? Pissing you off?”

Now he sighed. “For being there.”

“Okay.”

Crystal-blue haunted eyes watched warily as she walked up to him. When she got close enough, he closed his eyes, sighed again, then looked at her as he reached out and stroked her jaw. “I have to go,” he whispered, running a finger up the hoops in her ear.

She barely resisted the urge to turn her face into his hand and kiss his palm. “Tell me why.”

“Because I'm not fit for company.” He stepped back and dropped his hand.

“Sometimes, Ty, you
have
to let people in.”

“You're speaking from experience, of course.”

She ignored the sarcasm. “I let my family in. And Suzanne and Taylor.”
And you,
she wanted say. Horrifying, how much she wanted to say it, how much she wanted
him
to want it as well.

“Goodbye, Nicole.”

“Wait…. You're not going to even write her back?”

“Do you really care?”

“You know I do.”

“Actually, I know no such thing.”

“How can you say that after last night?”

“We're different, you've said so enough times.”

“Maybe those differences are more surface than I thought,” she admitted.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning…we're both loners. We're both worka
holics. Maybe we connect on a more fundamental level than I imagined possible.”

“You're a doctor. Your own words, remember? I was hurt and you're sworn to heal. You would have done the same for a puppy.”

She swallowed hard at her own words thrown back in her face and looked right at him, the hardest thing she'd ever done. “I care about you.”

“Yeah, well, you shouldn't. Goodbye, Nicole.”

And then he was gone, and she was staring at the closed door thinking that his goodbye had sounded a lot more final than just see-you-later.

It sounded like…well, goodbye.

And really, that was perfectly fine with her. More than fine.

Which didn't explain the tear on her cheek.

 

O
NCE HE GOT
home, Ty slept for two days straight. Then he lay around for a third and fourth in a funk that was very unlike him.

It was too quiet. That had to be why he thought of Nicole only every living second. To combat that, he cranked up the music. Watched TV. Worked.

But still, he thought of her. How could he not? She was smart and sexy and beautiful, and he wanted her. Yet he'd wanted plenty of women before, so why he felt so down about how he'd left her, he had no
idea. They didn't have anything going, she didn't want to have anything going.

Neither did he. Yeah, he would have loved to sleep with her, hold her, sink into her body and lose himself, sating this inexplicable desire for her. But he hadn't, and it was over. He'd never been one to wonder about might-have-beens.

And yet he wondered now. Ironic that in his life, he'd had no patience for people who hesitated. Fate and destiny were out there to be taken advantage of, not to sit around and accept. He'd taken charge of his destiny, and because of it he had a great life. And if once in a while it was too…quiet, then he took care of it. It had never been difficult to find a woman interested in a good time, short-term of course. Maybe that's what he needed now. A bout of mutually satisfying, hot, sweaty sex.

Too bad he could hardly move.

Five days after falling through the ceiling, he drove by the youth hostel. Just out of curiosity, he told himself, not because of a strange sense that he was missing something, something important. He got out of his car and asked the young tattooed kid at the desk for Margaret Mary. He waited for what seemed like forever, his heart pounding uncomfortably against the ribs that still hurt, only to be told she wasn't around.

Good. Fine. It had been stupid to try to see her any
way. He didn't need to add trouble to his life, and family would be trouble.

Since he was out, he went by some of his jobs, ignoring his aching ribs, burying himself in the stuff he'd neglected over the past few days. By the time he got home, he was suitably exhausted. Dizzy with it, in fact. Maybe now, finally, he could sleep.

But at midnight he was still staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. He probably should have given in and taken some painkillers, but he hated the loss of control so he gritted his teeth and told himself he'd feel better tomorrow. Deciding to work, he flipped on a light, but the lines on the plans blurred and jumped around, making him feel nauseous.

Time for oblivion, he thought, and reached for the bottle of pills. But a knock at the door stopped him. Since he couldn't think of a single reason for someone to be knocking at his door at midnight, he ignored it.

It came again.

Struggling into a pair of sweat pants, he figured that since he didn't feel like crying as he moved, he must be improving. Still, by the time he hobbled to the door, he was ready to sit down. And when he opened it, he nearly
did
sit down, right there on the floor. “Nicole!”

She stood there, arms braced on the jamb on either side of her, head down. When he said her name, she lifted her face. Her short, dark hair was up in spikes,
as if she'd shoved her fingers through it repeatedly. She wore a spaghetti-strapped tank top under overalls. One strap had slid down her shoulder. Her smooth, sleek arms were taut, her tight little body quivering with tension.

But it was her eyes that held him now, as they were filled with so many things it hurt to look at her.

“I woke you,” she said. “I'm sorry, I'll just—”

He wrapped his fingers around her arm to stop her from backing away. Skin to skin. The jolt nearly brought him to his knees. Now was a hell of a time to realize that with her standing right here in front of him everything suddenly felt good. Right.

He hated that. She was nothing but a damn string on the heart he didn't want to feel.

“I shouldn't have come,” she whispered.

No, no she shouldn't have. Because now he didn't know how to let her go.

“I just…I saw your light.” She lifted a shoulder, gave him a little smile.

The smile lifted him in a way it shouldn't, and just like that, the funk was gone.

He'd have to dwell on that later because right now he wanted the feel of her. Needed the feel of her in a terrifyingly bad way.

“It's just that Taylor said she hadn't seen or heard from you,” she said. “And you didn't make your check-up appointment the hospital gave you, and—”

With a little tug, he had her inside.

“So I just drove by, just to see…and well.” She smiled again, stopping his heart. “Like I said, I saw the light—”

He shut the door behind her. She took one step back, away from him, right up against the wood.

Perfect.

“So.” Her smile shook a bit now. “I just wanted to see for myself that you were doing okay—” She stopped when he planted an arm on either side of her head. “Are you going to say something?” she whispered, licking her bottom lip.

Oh yeah, he liked that little nervous gesture.

“Ty?”

“You want to give me a check-up?”

“I…uh…”

He found his own smile. “You're nervous, doc. I know it sounds sick, but I like that. I like that a lot.”

She pressed her fingers to her eyes, which gave him better room to crowd her body.

So he did.

“You know what?” she murmured, still covering her eyes. “I'm going now.” Then she dropped her hands and shoved at his chest, which shot a white-hot arrow of pain right through his ribs. Doubling over, he groaned, vaguely aware of her horrified gasp.

“Oh, Ty—” Her hands came around his bare middle.

“Damn it—”

“I know, I know, I'm so sorry.”

He sucked in a careful breath and looked at her when she said it again. Her hands on his skin moved lightly, not a doctor's hands, but a woman's, as she murmured her apologies over and over, as she tried to soothe. And little by little his vision cleared so that he could straighten slightly.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“I'll let you know when the stars clear from my head.”

“God. I'm so sorry.”

“I know.”

“I…wouldn't hurt you on purpose.”

“I know.”

But she already had. Nicole could feel it. She just didn't understand.
He
was the one who didn't want a relationship.
He
was the one who'd kept her at arm's length with his light, easygoing, teasing attitude. He was the one…

Wasn't he?

“Nicole.” That was it, that was the only word to escape his lips, but his gaze seemed to say so much more. Eyes hot, he lowered his head so that their lips were only a breath apart. “Why did you come?”

She licked her lips again. “I told you, I—”

“
Why,
Nicole?”

She closed her eyes, trying to hide the truth from
him. She'd come to be in his arms. She'd come to give him what she'd held back all this time. She'd come to see if she was going crazy, or if this…this thing went both ways.

“Nicole?”

“Y-yes?”

“I should tell you, watching you struggle at this social stuff is an incredible turn-on. Knowing you're usually buried in work, that you never look up from that work for anyone, and you are now…because of me…”

She stared down at his hand as it entwined with hers and tugged. Then she was staring at his strong, sleekly muscled back while he led her through the house.

“I'm taking you to my bedroom now,” he said over his shoulder. “Stop me.”

She kept following him.

He tugged her into a room lit only by the moonlight dancing through the wall of windows. Then he flipped on the light and she was blinking at him like an owl.

“I want to see this.” He stepped so close she could see nothing but him. Around her, she had an impression of a large room, an equally large bed with tossed blankets and sheets.

Then he backed her to that bed, his eyes glowing with intent and emotion. “I think you came for this,
which just so happens to be what I'm looking for as well.”

“You— But you're hurt.” Since when did she stutter? The mattress bumped her high on the back of her thighs. Her heart was drumming so fast and so loud it was a wonder he hadn't asked her if she was having a heart attack.

“Say I'm wrong.” He lifted a finger and nudged off the other strap of her overalls. The bib fell to her waist, leaving just her thin tank top, which hid nothing from him, including the fact she was aroused. Very aroused.

His head dipped, and for a long moment he just looked, making her nipples tighten and pucker against the thin material all the more. “Nicole.” His voice was husky. “You're not saying no.”

“I—”

“No starts with N.” He used both hands now, gliding his fingers up and down her arms. He met her gaze. Waited.

She licked her lips, which wrestled a low groan from him. And then he leaned in even closer. “Say it. Say no.”

“I don't want to say it.” Almost before she'd finished, his mouth closed over hers. She opened to him and he groaned again. Then he was inside, tasting her as if he was a starving man and she was a ten-course meal. Which worked for her because suddenly, or
maybe not so suddenly, she was starving too, starving for this.

Breaking only for air, he raised his head and stared at her from slumberous eyes before he came at her again, changing the angle of the kiss, settling his mouth more firmly over hers. Her lips clung to his as her fingers fisted in his hair, holding him to the plundering, caressing kiss because she didn't want him pulling back again. She wanted this mindlessness, craved this hot, sensual heat, and needed even more.