Whispers of Fate: The Mistresses of Fate, Book Two (18 page)

He didn’t think Tavey would understand, but that wasn’t her fault. She’d been born rich; that didn’t mean she intentionally lorded that fact over everyone.

“She seems to,” he said simply.

“That’s good.” She took a sip of her coffee, closing her eyes a little at the taste of it.
Belinda made damn good coffee.
She set her cup down and laced her fingers together. “You said you had a favor to ask me?”

“Yeah. Christie, my stepdaughter, wanted to know if you’d help her train her dog, Grumbles, to track. Train her, too, I suppose, on how to follow.”

A small grin escaped Tavey. “You figured out the secret. It’s much harder to train the humans than the dogs most of the time.”

Tyler believed it. He grinned back at her. “Training humans is supposed to be my job—well, the troublemakers anyway.”

“You can keep it.” She nodded. “Most of the ones that come to me for help are reasonably well behaved.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if you can train Christie, then. She’s a handful.”

Tavey rolled her eyes. “She can’t be any worse than the Triplets. If they do that creepy talk-at-the-same-time thing the entire time I’m training them, I’m going to lose it.”

“No, you won’t,” he said confidently. “You can handle a few smart-aleck teenagers.”

“Hmm.” Tavey made a noise that sounded like agreement and sipped her coffee again. “I’d be happy to train Christie and the Triplets together. I think they’d get along. I have a class scheduled in a few weeks. After school and on Saturdays. We can take some one-on-one time before that, though, if you want to bring Christie and her dog by my house tonight.”

“Sounds good,” he agreed.

The pleasant moment lingered between them. Tyler didn’t want to say anything else, for fear of ruining the moment. Tavey was talking to him, smiling at him the way she did when she spoke to Chris or Raquel. But the topics they needed to discuss—Summer’s case, the ribbon, the stories he’d heard from his uncle about her grandfather’s cabin—were rife with opportunities for argument.

Tavey sighed, setting her cup down again, her gaze soft with regret. “I hesitate to ask, but how is your uncle?”

Tyler felt himself stiffen, waiting for her to demand that he talk to his uncle again, for her to insist on questioning him herself.

When she didn’t say anything else, just sat with her shoulders tensed, he eased back and took her question at face value.

“He wasn’t doing too well on Sunday. I called him twice yesterday and once this morning, but he hasn’t answered.”

Tavey frowned. “Is that unusual?”

Tyler shook his head. “He doesn’t care much for the phone. It goes straight to voice mail so I’m betting it’s dead.”

A thought flickered across her face, but she didn’t say anything.

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“What is it?”

She hesitated. “I know you’ll probably say no, but I could stop by on my way home this afternoon if you want. If I promise not to ask him anything,” she elaborated.

Tyler’s initial reaction was astonishment with just a hint of suspicion. He swallowed the doubt, though, wanting to give her a chance. She was an honorable person. He’d seen her often enough with others to know that. She was irrational with his uncle because she’d loved her friend Summer. Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to tempt fate and send her rushing over to his uncle’s house. Even if she was perfectly calm and didn’t ask any questions, his uncle was likely to die of a heart attack at the sight of her.

“That’s okay,” he said carefully. “I appreciate it, though.”

She nodded. “We’re being pretty careful here. Why do you suppose that is?”

Tyler tried to pinpoint the moment when his feelings for her had started changing. He remembered last fall when Chris had been the target of a serial killer. Tavey had defended her friend, keeping the reporters away, and helped her get through the crisis with a calm steadiness. He’d seen that same strength when she’d helped the FBI team and the Atlanta Police Department locate the bodies of two missing girls using her tracking dogs. She hadn’t flinched during the search, or once they’d found the bodies, but he’d seen her afterward, hunched over the steering wheel of her car, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs.

And then this past Sunday, he’d seen her fall apart over finding a ribbon she thought had belonged to her friend.

Prior to the past few months, he’d thought she was cold, vindictive, and superior. Or maybe he’d just wanted to believe that, needed to believe it. Because if she were truly loving and kind—and bossy and stubborn—he had no reason not to like her. No reason not to act on the electric attraction between them other than his own fear. He didn’t see what someone like her would want with him, but she hadn’t deserved how he’d treated her so far.

Maybe he’d used his uncle as an excuse to push her away, not let her get too close.

“I’m not sure,” he lied, “but I’d like to keep being careful with you, if that’s all right?”

After a moment, she nodded, straightening a little in her seat, as if she were flustered.

“I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything back yet on the ribbon?”

“No, and I’m not likely to this week, either. Cold cases just don’t take priority.”

“I understand,” she said softly.

“I did talk to Old Ninny, though.”

“Old Ninny?” She sounded surprised.

“Just this morning.”

Tavey looked bemused but curious. “What did she have to say?”

“I asked her about when Summer disappeared, about Jane’s mysterious husband and who they hung out with. You know that Belle, Mark, and Jane all hung out together and partied?”

Tavey pursed her lips, thinking.

I’d like to bite at that lip.
The errant thought had Tyler shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“I’m a little surprised,” Tavey said finally. “Bessie said that other than my father, Belle never cared much for anyone in town.”

“Your father? Didn’t he—”

“Die when I was two? Yeah. He and my mother and their driver. They went over an icy bridge and into the water.”

“So he and Gloria Belle were friends before he met your mother, before everything that happened with Summer?”

Tavey nodded. “Belle left town permanently after he died. She came back every now and again, though, till Bessie asked her to stay away. I suppose it makes sense she would spend time with Jane. They were essentially neighbors, after all.”

“I got the feeling from Ninny that Mark pulled them together. He seems to be the leader of that crew.”

Tavey set her elbows on the table, her mouth set in a firm line. “We need to talk to him.”

“Uh-huh,” Tyler agreed. “
I
do need to talk to him. As soon as he and Jane get back from wherever they’ve gone, I intend to.”

“Jane’s gone?” Tavey sounded startled. She didn’t comment on the deliberate emphasis he’d placed on the “I.”

“Since Sunday, apparently.”

“And Ninny didn’t seem worried.” Tavey sounded aghast.

“She didn’t,” Tyler muttered flatly. “Essentially she told me to mind my own business.”

Tavey didn’t comment on that. Everyone knew that the Havens were a closemouthed bunch. “I doubt Jane would miss her solstice festival. She looks forward to it every year.”

“I hope not. I’d like to talk to her long before then.”

Tavey finished her coffee, eyeing him over the rim of her cup, her eyes curious and warm. “Thanks for the coffee, Tyler.”

She sounded almost . . . shy, a quality he would never have attributed to her before.

“You’re welcome,” he said finally. “I’ll walk you back over to Dog.”

“That’s okay.” She put a hand out to stop him. “Finish your coffee, please. I’ll manage.”

“I know you’ll manage, Tavey.” He stood, picking up his coffee in one hand and holding out the elbow of his opposite arm for her to grip. “But you’ll manage better with my help.”

Her long fingers curled around his arm, her smile wry. “I suppose I will.”

They walked together across the circle, her arm in his elbow, and she felt as stupidly giddy as a teenage girl with her first crush.

“Why don’t you come in my office for a minute, Tyler.” She didn’t want this moment to end. She wanted to keep him with her while they were on good terms. She wanted to flirt and brush herself against him and see if he would deliver on the promise she’d always seen in his eyes.

Some small part of her thought that if she didn’t keep him with her now, she would lose the opportunity. Something terrible would happen and he would hate her again. He would hate her and she would never have gotten to touch him the way she wanted. Make him hers.

He looked around, no doubt as aware as she was of the glances that were being sent their way. Gossip was probably already buzzing like a downed electric line.

He glanced down at her. “Are you flirting with me, Tavey Collins?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I am, Tyler Downs.”

He seemed to think about that, a slight flush rising on his cheeks. “I never thought the day would come when I could flirt with you outright.”

Tavey felt her own cheeks heat, but she straightened her shoulders a little. “We’re adults.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, turning her with his body away from her store and toward his truck. “Just how busy are you this morning?”

Tavey felt her breath come faster and moved so that she was a little closer to him, so that her body brushed his with every step. “Not that busy.” Tavey was never not busy, but she wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to spend some time with him.

“Well, I have a few hours before I have to be on duty. Why don’t I show you my house? You’ve never been there.”

Tavey hadn’t, but she knew where he lived. There was a small neighborhood of cottage-like homes from the fifties and sixties not far from town proper. Raquel lived in one; Tyler’s house wasn’t too far from hers.

“No, I haven’t.”

Neither one of them said anything else as they walked in concert toward Tyler’s truck. He unlocked it with the fob on his keychain and Tavey hurried to the passenger side, pulling the door open and climbing into the seat.

He met her eyes as he started the truck. “This is crazy.”

“It is,” she agreed.

“We don’t even like each other.” He sounded uncertain as he backed out of his parking space and maneuvered the truck around the circle.

“Tyler Downs, I’ve wanted you to make love to me since I was fifteen years old.”

He stopped the truck abruptly and stared at her. “Damn.” He shook his head and started driving again, a little faster than he should. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“I used to watch you,” he confessed softly, turning to head up the hill toward his house. “You would come to my games with your hair down around your shoulders.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I felt like every time you looked up, your eyes were on me.”

“I thought about you all the time.”

“Hurry,” she ordered. “Please.”

He did. Driving the short distance with the concentration of a man who thought his life would end if he didn’t arrive somewhere on time.

He pulled into the driveway of his house, a pale green one-story home with a willow in the front yard and a few nondescript shrubs in front of a picture window.

Tavey removed her seat belt and opened the door before he came to a complete stop.

“Come on,” she urged him.

He removed his own belt, consternation on his face. “Whoa. Let’s just—”

She ignored him and hopped down, crossing in front of the truck, and meeting him as he stepped down. Reaching for his hand, she tugged him toward the door.

“Hurry,” she said, pulling him. “I’ve wanted you so long I can’t stand it.”

“Tav—what’s the rush? Are we really going to?”

She turned around abruptly, letting her body meet his as she gripped his shirt. He was hard; she could feel him through his jeans. “I want you.” She leaned close and breathed him in. “I want you so bad I can’t stand it.” She looked at the hollow of his throat, felt tears sting her eyes. “I can’t not have you again.”

He touched her hair, running his hand down the soft strands. “I don’t get what you want with me. I never have.”

She looked at him, thought about the boy who had fought his way out of years of abuse and become a cop, thought about the man who’d defended his uncle so faithfully all those years. He was a good man, and so beautiful he broke her heart.

“Does it matter?” she whispered.

He laughed. “Fuck no. Not anymore.”

He pulled her along the path to the door, holding her close to his side as he pulled a thick set of keys off his belt. He fumbled a little and cursed, making her laugh, but then the door was open and he was pulling her inside hastily, shutting the door behind him.

He pressed her against it and kissed her, taking her mouth as completely as he had when they were young. Only now there was no anger, just a long simmering lust that was now boiling over, rushing over both of them. The hair on Tavey’s arms stood up as she shivered in desperate excitement. He tasted like coffee and man, his tongue tangling with hers as they struggled to get closer and closer together.

She tightened her fingers in the short strands of his hair, wishing it was longer, as it had been then, but then she couldn’t think of anything but the feel of his body on hers as he pressed her against the door, grinding his body against hers.

“God,” she gasped. “Kiss me more. Kiss me harder.”

He did, sliding one hand down her hip. She was wearing a skirt, a long flowy one that gathered easily in his hands. He tugged it up, and up, until the long, smooth column of her thigh was visible. He secured the loose fabric between the back of her hip and the door so that he could have unrestricted access to her skin, trailing his fingers over her smooth leg. She was perfect.

He broke off the kiss and looked at her. “I’m kissing Tavey Collins. I’m touching you,” he marveled, and she laughed, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Damn right you are,” she agreed, kissing his skin. “Do it some more.”

He swung her away from the door and she wrapped her legs around his hips as he walked her toward his bedroom.