Made For Loving You (Rescue My Heart Book 3), Kait Nolan [good non fiction books to read TXT] 📗

breaking off a piece for Duke, who sat quivering with desperate hope by her chair. “Ty asked me to stay.”

Emerson took a beat too long to answer. “For how long?”

“He didn’t exactly specify.” More with the bacon nibbling. “A few more days. He got called into work a bit ago.”

“You said yes.” It wasn’t a question. And why should it be? Emerson had known her for years.

“Yeah.”

“Is that a good idea?” How many times had she heard this question? How many times had the answer been yes? Not as often as Paisley would’ve liked.

“Honestly, probably not.”

“But you’re still staying.”

“I said I would.” She kept seeing his face, those few moments of unguarded hope before he began to close off again, thinking she’d say no. And the relief when she hadn’t.

“Paisley,” Emerson sighed. “Are the orgasms that good?”

A laugh burst out of her. “I mean, yeah, but that’s not why. He’s different. And he’s not. We agreed to the casual, but he’s not acting casual.” She told Emerson about the date Friday night and the rest of the weekend they’d spent talking and laughing. It was easy to be with him, as long as neither of them thought about it too hard.

“Do you think he’s working his way around to asking for a second chance?”

The million-dollar question.

“I don’t know. I’m a romantic. Of course, I want to think that. But I don’t know how much of that is just me seeing what I’ve always wanted to see.” She got points for admitting she wasn’t objective about this, right?

Emerson stayed quiet for long moments. “It took you years to get over him the first time.”

“l know.”

She wouldn’t get over him this time. In truth, she wasn’t sure that she ever really had. His loss had just become a pain she’d learned to live with. An ache that let her know she was still alive.

“We both know you’re not actually calling for my opinion. You’ve already made up your mind.”

“I guess I just needed to talk it through. Hear the whole thing out loud. I don’t know what he wants. I don’t know if this is going to fizzle out. Maybe he’ll decide he’s tired of me. Or maybe we both just need some kind of proper closure and goodbye on our timeline instead of Uncle Sam’s. But I don’t think I can walk away. Not without giving this a chance. Because I’d always wonder, and I’m so tired of wondering.”

“I hope it works out for you, Pais. I really do. But I’ll load in a stockpile of ice cream just in case.”

It took an hour and a half to find the site of the explosion. It took two hours more to track down the culprits. No actual laws had been broken—there was, sadly, no statute against being stupid—but by the time Xander had finished putting the fear of God into the idiots who’d thought it would be fun to blow up a major appliance, it was headed toward three.

As the door of the Sheriff’s Department closed behind the Duffy brothers, Ty learned back against a desk. “You think they’ll shape up?”

“Odds are no. And if they don’t, one or both of them will land in jail or an early grave. I’m hoping a visit from Agent Slattery from the ATF tomorrow will sufficiently scare them into behaving. For a while at least.”

“God willing. You need me for anything else?” Ty was ready to get home to Paisley. The knowledge that she’d be there, waiting for him, had been a constant warm hum in the back of his brain as he’d done his duty. He was assiduously avoiding any analysis of that fact.

“No. Get on out of here. Sorry for interrupting your weekend.” The sheriff’s lips quirked. “My mama said she saw you getting cozy with a very attractive brunette Friday night.”

Of course, she had.

“Respectfully, I know you’ve already had confirmation from Essie, so I see no point in commenting. See you tomorrow.”

Xander’s laughter followed him out the door.

He ought to hit up Garden of Eden for some groceries before he headed home. His cabinets were getting pretty bare, and he felt compelled to offer Paisley more than the frozen dinners that were his fall back.

A text came in as he slid into his sheriff’s cruiser, after buying more than he’d planned from the market. Expecting something from Paisley, he was grinning as he pulled out his phone. The grin faded as he read the group text from Harrison.

911. Elvira’s. ASAP.

Ty’s former captain and close friend didn’t make overdramatic and unnecessary pronouncements, which meant something big was going down. Knowing he wouldn’t get any more information until he got there, Ty thumbed back an immediate reply.

En route.

His brain spun on the short drive, wondering why they were being convened. Harrison and Ivy had only just returned from their honeymoon today. Was it another combat death among their military brothers? Organizing a suicide watch for others who were stateside? In the not-distant-enough past, his friends had done that for him. It had been Harrison himself who’d prevented Ty from eating a bullet to stop the grief and the guilt he hadn’t known how to live with, so whatever his friend needed, he was there.

Porter Ingram was climbing out of his truck as Ty arrived, and Sebastian whipped into a space a few moments later. They convened at the door.

“Any of y’all know what this is about?”

Expression grim, Sebastian tugged open the door. “No idea.”

“I didn’t know he was even back yet,” Porter added.

Bracing himself, Ty followed his buddies inside. The sense of creeping dread only intensified as he spotted Harrison sitting at a table in the far corner, a beer in his hand at three in the afternoon. The greenish tinge to his face didn’t improve as he caught sight of them.

Ty and Sebastian dropped into chairs on either side of him, with Porter across the table.

“What’s wrong?” Ty demanded.

Harrison picked at the label on his bottle. “I have been through some