“I like her,” Tyler’s mom says this to Tyler, and then they both look over at me. Again my neck and face feel hot with embarrassment.

  “Yeah,” He says, squeezing my hand, “me too.” He confesses and my pulse quickens. “She’s pretty great.” He adds, dragging his thumb along the palm of my hand.

  I know he and I have a lot to talk about, and we will in time. But for now, all I want is for him to heal.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Tyler

  “I’ve got it,” Amara hurries to stand, taking my cup from me. “You rest.”

  I smile looking back as she hurries to the kitchen and puts my cup in the sink. Busying herself, she moves around the space, cleaning the countertop, putting away the dishes and folding the dish towel to lay it over the edge of the sink.

  When she turns around to face me she finds me watching her.

  “What?” She freezes looking around like she’d forgotten something.

  “Come here,” I tap the empty space at my side and wait for her to join me. For the last few days this woman has taken care of me. She’s given me my meds, though I’m sure I could have done it all on my own I gave in and let her handle it all. It’s something that is not in my nature, I’m not the guy that likes to feel out of control.

  I lead the way, I take charge.

  But being here at Amara’s waking up to her, rubbing my back, combing her fingers through my hair and caring for me is different. She does it all in such a way that I don’t feel like an invalid.

  Sitting down beside me, I turn my body to face hers and slide the palm of my hand over her thigh. “Thank you,” I whisper, my throat feeling slightly raw.

  “For what?”

  “Everything,” my ribs ache, my elbow throbs, but I’d suffer through all the pain to have her closer. So grabbing hold of her hip I start to pull her toward me, and she stops me.

  “Ty,” shaking her head, I ignore her protest.

  “I’m fine,” assuring her I try again. “I know what I can handle and right now, I want you closer.” She is hesitant but when she quickly realizes I have no intentions of not following through she straddles me.

  “I miss you,” confessing this feels strange but honestly the last several days feel like a blur. She’s been right at my side, but I’ve been so out of it, I feel like we are miles apart.

  “I’m right here,” she dips her chin and looks me in the eyes. “How can you miss me; I’ve been annoying you for days?”

  Biting her lip to fight her smile I lift my free hand and cup the side of her neck, pulling her in closer. “You are so far from annoying,” pressing my lips to hers I glide my tongue over the seam of her lips and they part. Without pause I feel her tongue tangle with mine and I let go of her neck to grip her ass and slide her forward.

  “Tyler,” she protests within our kiss, and I practically chase her to regain control.

  “No,” I growl, “You have to trust me to know when I can’t handle this.” My body is humming with the desire to feel her. “I’m a big boy, Amara.”

  It takes a moment for her to accept but when she does she shifts her hips and I know I’ve got her. Yes, one arm in a sling makes things difficult. I want more than anything to grab hold of her, flip her onto the couch and devour her, but I can’t. I want to grip her hips and hold her tight while thrusting upward only to watch her fall apart.

  Weakness isn’t something that sits well with me.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Mar seems hesitant, and I know she is referring to hurting me physically. But I can’t seem to stop the words that roll around in my head and fall from my lips.

  “The only way you can hurt me is if you leave me,” I’m aware of what I’ve just confessed, but if what took place at our last call-out has taught me anything, it's that I need to be honest and take what I want. Time wasted is moments you can’t get back.

  I don’t want to waste any more.

  Amara’s eyes widen for a moment, surprised I’m sure by my words.

  “I need you.”

  “You have me,” she whispers.

  Pressing my lips to hers again we manage to get lost in our kiss. With Amara it’s so easy to do.

  Pulling back, I open my eyes and wait for her to do the same. When I know that she is alert, and can focus, I tell her what’s been on my mind for days. “I’ve never wanted this,” she worries her lower lip but I continue on knowing that any doubt she may have will soon be washed away or so I hope. “I’ll confess I’ve liked my freedom; I’ve liked being able to go where I want and do what I want and to not have anyone I’ve had to worry about. But this...” I drag my thumb over her lower lip, kissing her once more. “You have taken me by surprise,” I’m not this guy, I’m not emotional and sentimental. I don’t confess all my woes and I definitely don’t do vulnerable, but with Amara I’m all those things and more. “This is what I want, you,” I press my forehead to hers, closing my eyes tightly. “You are all I want.”

  I wake to an empty bed and a note on the bedside table.

  Gone to the Salon, shouldn’t be gone too long. There are cinnamon rolls on the warming plate, do not overdue it, I will clean up when I get home.

  Maneuvering my body, I throw my legs over the edge of the bed, and stand. Feeling a slight ache in my ribs I bite back a curse and stand tall.

  I’m already over this inability to move around like I want. I’m ready to get back to work, being cooped up is killing me.

  Deciding to shower before I eat, I make my way to the bathroom and flip on the water. Moving around the bathroom, waiting for the water to heat, I gather a towel and pause, looking at myself in the mirror.

  In desperate need of a shave, I run my hand over my jaw and stare at my reflection.

  The bruise on my forehead, is fading and is now an ugly shade of greenish yellow.

  Flashbacks of that day hit, and I flinch remembering what it felt like with the first impact. Falling forward I tried to break my fall because I had Samantha in my arms, but it was too much, and I crumbled to the floor. Everything after that is a blur. Until I stepped outside, and it all hit me. The reality of the situation, the scared look in the eyes of all those I call brothers.

  Shaking away the thoughts, I pull open the drawers looking for a razor. Sifting through the contents, pushing aside make-up and hair products.

  I’d never been in a woman’s bathroom, but my God what in the hell do they need all this shit for?

  Opening the lower cabinet I lower my body, knowing that bending at the waist right now is something that hurts too much to attempt.

  Finding a bottle of shaving cream though it’s some flowery scent, I grab it and place it on the counter, continuing to look for razors, is when I see a box tucked off to the side that catches my attention.

  Lifting it, I turn it over and remain frozen in place as I read over the name on the box. Not noticing that it is open until the contents slips slowly from the end and falls to the floor, I sit back on my legs and stare at the white applicator laying on the tile floor.

  It is face down, and part of me wants to ignore it and walk away, but an even bigger part of me needs to see what the other side reveals.

  My hand shakes as I reach out and lift it, slowly turning it over.

  And in that very second, my entire world changes. Everything I thought I knew is unclear, every vision I had is blurred, my entire story, our story, has been rewritten.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Amara

  I am just about to pack my things up and leave when I hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Not high heels, which is common in the salon but big, heavy, determined boot cladded footsteps.

  My pulse quickens, and I look toward the doorway just as Tyler’s body fills the open space. Fully dressed, his hair damp from I assume a recent shower and a surprising scowl on his face.

  “Is everything okay?” I stand and begin to round the desk when he holds out his hand for me to stop. My mind is racing with what could have happened between now and less than an hour ago when I left the house.

  He was sleeping, soundly. I’d left him breakfast, a fresh pot of coffee waiting in the kitchen.

  “When were you planning to tell me?”

  I wrinkle my brows, still reeling from the change in his demeanor.

  “Or were you even going to?”

  “Ty,” I shake my head again trying to step toward him when he reaches around and pulls out something from his back pocket. The entire moment slows, like it’s happening in an incredibly stretched out timeframe. His movements, his words, it all feels so unreal.

  He tosses the applicator I had placed back in the box under the sink, until I was ready to show him.

  “Were you even going to tell me?”

  “Of course I was.” I was building up to it. Hadn’t quite figured out how to spring the news, but I was definitely going to.

  “When?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How long have you known?”

  The moment felt so incredibly tense, my ears were ringing, my heart racing and tears filled my eyes though I did my best to fight them.

  “Since the morning after the auction,” I say, looking away from him when his eyes narrow.

  “In the truck,” he adds, slightly shaking his head. “That’s when it hit you, am I right?” I only nod. “When I asked you what just changed and you told me that it was the fear of being caught, you suspected it then, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “So instead of telling me, you went and got that test,” He points to the applicator still laying on my desk. “Took it, and then after finding out the truth you went days and days without saying a word.”

  “I didn’t know how to say it.”

  “That’s easy Amara, you say, Tyler, I’m pregnant and it's yours.”

  I let out a slow breath, fighting my emotions.

  “You’re right I should have told you.”

  “Hell, yeah you should have,” frustratingly he combs his hand through his hair.

  “I get it, this is too much.” I whisper.

  He only shakes his head and looks at me in a way that I don’t like. His nostrils flaring, his lips pressed in a tight line, his jaw tense. “Damn Amara you have to give me a little time to let this sink in. You’ve known a lot longer than me, you’ve had time to come to terms with it, I’m just joining the fucking party.”

  His words feel like they hit me hard right in the center of my chest.

  “We went from zero to sixty in a blink, and this is all a little overwhelming.” My tears are winning out, and fast as they pool in my eyes. “I think I just need a little time to—,”

  “Okay, yeah,” I interrupt him. “Maybe you should take some time.”

  “Amara that’s not—,”

  I need to be alone. “But I think that you should take that time, somewhere else.” Squaring my shoulders as I fight my emotions. “I have clients here; this is a business and not the place to decide if this is something you want. I can’t have everyone in this town knowing details about the mess I’ve managed to get myself into.”

  “Are you serious right now?”

  I nod, feeling like at any moment I may crumble to my knees and fall apart. He holds my stare and I almost have to look away. Tyler then throws up his good hand, turns on his heel and walks out.

  Rounding my desk, I collapse in the chair, and bury my face in my hands and let the tears fall.

  This was not my plan. I didn’t set out to trap him, or force him into a situation he wasn’t ready for. I’m not ready either, but unfortunately I know that I have to be. But the last thing I will do is make him feel like he has to stay.

  “Amara,” I look up to find Hannah standing in the doorway with a concerned look on her face. "Are you okay?”

  I try to wave it off as nothing, even though I have tears and snot running down my face.

  “I’m good, I’m fine.”

  Not listening to me she moves further into the room and kneels before me, placing her hands on my knees. She sits in silence as I do my best to pull it together, taking in one deep calming breath after another.

  “I’m okay,” I reassure her once more, this time more convincing than the last. Knowing Hannah as well as I do, I know that she understands that I am forcing myself to be, and this means I need her to accept that, she nods and stands, leaving me alone once more.

  Glancing down at the applicator still laying in the center of my desk I grab it and toss it in the garbage can.

  Picking up my things I throw everything into my bag and place my paperwork in the top drawer, then exit my small office.

  “Are you taking off?” Hayden asks, ignoring the obvious signs of my recent meltdown. My red rimmed eyes with smeared mascara, I am sure I look like a wreck.

  “If you all need me, just call. I’ll do the inventory orders from home.”

  Offering her a wave, I slip out of the side door, and walk toward my car. Flipping the locks, I climb inside and gather my phone from my bag.

  Dialing Claire’s number, I already know that she’ll say a lot of things I may not like, but maybe that’s what I need. A little dose of reality, whether it's pleasant or not.

  “Hey there Sexy Firefighter humper,” she answers with a laugh.

  “Nice,” normally I would laugh at her crass, non-bashful behavior but today I’m not feeling too chipper. At the mention of the firefighter, it only manages to make me feel raw all over again.

  She must hear the shift in my voice, or maybe it's the shudder in my breath as I fight to stop the tears that are once again threatening to fall. Hormonal shifts suck, they truly do. It's like a switch, once it starts you better just hold on for the ride because the bitch is coming in hot and there is nothing you can do.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m pregnant,” I cry. “And I found out more than a week ago and then Tyler got into an accident on a call and had to have surgery. It was a mess, a scary crazy mess and he’s been staying with me to heal, and then today he found the test in my bathroom vanity and showed up at the shop mad that I hadn’t told him.”

  “Wait, you didn’t tell him?”

  “No,” I cry again only louder. “I was scared, he was hurt, and I intended to. Then each day that passed it got harder because—,” I pause and hang my head.

  “You were scared.” Claire finishes it for me.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “And for good reason because he mentioned something about us going so fast and that it's overwhelming.”

  Claire stays silent, which is so unlike her. She is always so full of wisdom, or at least her version of it.

  “Now I don’t know what to do.” Feeling like the car and everything else for that matter is closing in tightly around me.

  “Aren’t the girls on summer vacation?” Her random question about my sisters surprises me.

  “Yes, why?”

  “Do you remember my parents' little cabin in Tennessee?”

  They used to vacation there when we were younger, and a few times I’d gone with them. It's tucked back from anything busy, hidden in the side of the mountain, small but quaint. “Yeah.”

  “What do you say we take off and spend a few days there, you can bring the girls?”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can and you will. I’ll send you the address and the key code, in case you get there before me.”

  “Claire,” I protested.

  “Don’t Claire me, we can’t get drunk, or at least you can’t but we can veg and eat a lot of shit we’ll regret later. We’ll cry and yell and it’ll all be okay because at the end of the day there is a cute little peanut that I’ll be able to spoil no matter what.”

  “The girls don’t know,” no one knows.

  “Well, a trip to the mountains sounds like the perfect way to tell them.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-NINE

  Tyler

  “Tyler,” my mother stands up as I enter the front door to greet me. “This is a lovely surprise.”

  When she looks over my shoulder as if she is expecting someone to enter behind me I already know she’s searching for Amara. But instead of bringing any attention to it, I pretend not to notice.

  “Where’s dad?”

  “Oh you know him, he’s down at the shop working on some new project. Fixing a motor, replacing a carburetor, a new brake job, maybe all the above.” She laughs it off and pulls me into the kitchen by my arm that’s not in a sling. “Have you eaten?”

  “I’m good,” the last thing I feel like is one of my mother’s extravagant meals. I’m not sure I can stomach it.

  “Then a sandwich maybe, or a slice of pie,” when I notice the hopeful look in her eyes I know I can’t deny her.

  “What kind of pie?”

  Her smile stretches across her face, “Peach or apple.”

  “Apple, with a scoop of vanilla.”

  “You got it,” she starts working, talking away about her best friend Melanie and how her daughter and husband just bought their first house in Kansas City. Apparently her son in law got transferred there for a new promotion.

  “She’s heartbroken, because she is going to miss so much.”

  “But she can visit,” my stomach growls when she places a small plate in front of me and holds out a fork.

  “And you said you weren’t hungry.” She laughs, completely satisfied and I don’t argue. “But yes, she can visit, but it's not the same. Her daughter is pregnant and,” I zone out of the rest of what she says when I hear the word pregnant. My mind wanders back to Amara and the look in her eyes the very moment she put up her walls once again.

  I know what she thought. She took what I said and decided it was my way out. Once that level of distance was met there was no way to pull her back in, at least not at that moment. So I left, against my better judgment I walked out and sat in my truck, I didn’t want to leave, but forced myself to pull away from the curb and took a drive to clear my head.