Made For Loving You (Rescue My Heart Book 3) by Kait Nolan (i can read book club txt) 📕

“Oh. Okay.” Lame. Inadequate. But she had nothing to work with here. No proper cues to act off of.

A frown finally cracked the neutrality. “I don’t like leaving you alone.”

But he wanted out of this house, away from her. It was clear in all his body language.

Fighting to keep her own face neutral, she buried her hands in Duke’s fur. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just grab a shower and get on over to Ivy and Harrison’s.” Not that she was in a hurry. While her friends had been marvelously accommodating, she was beginning to feel like an imposition and wanted some silence and empty space to think about the murky middle of this book. Not that she’d be thinking about that now.

Taking her at her word, he nodded sharply, draining the contents from a mug on the counter before setting it in the sink and starting for the door. “Lock the door and set the alarm behind me.”

She absorbed the inherent rejection in the gesture, managing only a monosyllabic, “Okay.”

She’d hold herself together until he left. In just a few more moments, he’d be out the door, and she could flagellate herself for how badly she’d screwed things up by pushing him.

Ty paused, one hand on the knob. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to get my head on straight.”

“I’m sorry I pushed you.”

“You were right. We won’t last without honesty. I’m just struggling.” He hesitated, as if he was going to say something else.

Look at me. She willed him to turn around. To come back to touch her.

But he only opened the door. “I’ll see you tonight.”

The latch snicked quietly into place. Because she knew he was waiting on the other side, she threw the deadbolt and set the alarm to stay. Booted footsteps trotted down the stairs, and a moment later his cruiser was backing out of the driveway. Then he was gone.

She needed coffee and some alone time to get her own head on straight and decide whether she’d allow this knot of tears in her throat to actually dissolve or not. Pouring a cup into the insulated mug Ty had so thoughtfully packed for her, she sank onto the sofa, patting her lap in invitation. Duke leaped up, assuming his favorite position for cuddles and belly scratches.

That had gone both better and worse than she expected. She’d wanted him to open up to her, but what was the cost? Had she damaged this nascent thing between them by forcing the issue? Should she have ignored the invitation, as he had? Stuck with the plan for a quiet night to chill? She’d needed to know where his head was. That he was drowning a survivor’s guilt was no surprise. Blaming himself for Garrett, for Bethany’s unborn child, was illogical. But nothing about this was based on logic. That wasn’t how trauma worked. And his was still so very close to the surface.

She wanted to help him. She wanted to heal him. But despite Ivy’s confidence, Paisley didn’t know if she could, or if he’d even let her.

“He said he was struggling. Admitting it has to mean something, right?”

Duke nudged the hand that had stopped back into motion on his chest.

“Last night was a lot. Obviously, it brought up some stuff again. It’s totally reasonable that he needs space after that. He’s been carrying this around on his own for a long time. It doesn’t mean he’s going to shut me out completely.”

She decided to take Duke’s sneeze of pleasure as agreement.

Because the knot was still in her throat, she lingered over coffee and pupper snuggles until it had shrunk to a more manageable level.

“Shower time, pal. Then we’re gonna go see our buddies. Okay?”

At the word “go”, Duke bounced up, ready for action, tail making a helicopter motion.

“You gotta wait. Let’s get you a puzzle while mama showers.”

Paisley set him up, then dug out the little Bluetooth speaker Ty had packed. Some nice, upbeat music would perk her up so she hopefully didn’t get an immediate interrogation once she got to Ivy’s. By the time her Pick-Me-Up playlist rolled through Pharrell Williams’ “Happy” and Michael Bublé’s “I’ve Got the World on a String”, past “Uptown Funk” and on into Fleetwood Mac’s “Don’t Stop”, she was feeling more positive. And of course, when Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” came on, she had to join in. Because obviously.

From outside the bathroom Duke began to bark.

“Your opinion on my vocal stylings is not called for, little man!”

He piped down, and she finished her shower in relative peace. Wrapping herself in a towel, she stepped out, waving away the cloud of steam. The bright pop of color on the kitchen island had her stopping in her tracks. A profusion of Gerbera daisies, purple tulips, and vibrant Asiatic lilies burst from a vase in the center.

Tears sprung to her eyes again as she spun, looking for Ty. But he’d apparently been running some kind of covert op to sneak in and deliver these and get back out again for work. He’d probably expected her to already be gone. Crossing over, she picked up the card leaning against the vase and slipped it free of the tiny envelope.

I’ve never felt closer to anyone.

Oh, sweet, sweet man. He’d understood she needed some reassurance after their rocky morning. As apologies went, this knocked it out of the park.

She started to call him but, just in case that briefing he’d mentioned was actually happening, switched to a text instead.

Paisley: You are a sweet, sneaky man. Thank you for the flowers!

The dot bubble popped up as he typed his reply.

What flowers?

Rolling her eyes at his attempt to play innocent, she snapped a photo and sent it.

The phone rang almost immediately. Ty, of course.

She was smiling as she answered. “That was a really sweet surprise for when I got out of the shower.”

“Paisley, I didn’t leave you flowers. I’ve been in this briefing for the last forty-five minutes.”

“What? Then wh—” Slowly, she turned from