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“He’s very private, and in all the time I’ve known him, I can’t say I’ve ever seen him with a woman. The fact that he’s broken so many of his personal and professional rules for you, that says a helluva lot.”
“He won’t let me close,” she admitted. “He’s adamant about it being just…” She blushed again. Chance was an extremely unlikely confidante, it felt odd to be speaking to him about these things. And yet there he sat, big, looking a little uncomfortable on the tiny jump seat next to her gurney, and watching her with endless patience.
Encouraged by that non-judgmental gaze, she pressed on. “About it being just sex. I’m the one who ended it between us. Because I couldn’t risk falling in love with him when he was doing everything in his power to keep me far away from his emotions.”
“Like I said, it took him six years to realize that I’m someone he could consider a friend… you have to give him time to adjust. To want more. I think—with that very public kiss he planted on you today—he’s getting there. But you have to be patient.”
Ty was just leaving the police station when he received the text from Chance.
Vicki okay. Five stitches. Little chance of a concussion. Hugh’s here. He’s taking her home soon.
He wanted to see her but didn’t think that would sit well with Hugh.
Ty’d had a very brief conversation with Miles earlier, the man was—to put it mildly—pissed off. Brand wasn’t too happy either. Ty hadn’t the time to tell them anything but the basics and would have a more in-depth Zoom meeting with both men, and Colby, in the morning. Chance would be Vicki’s primary with immediate effect, until Brand made his decision after tomorrow’s meeting.
Ty was exhausted and every time he shut his eyes, he saw that wound on Vicki’s arm and wanted to puke. He needed to see for himself that she was okay.
He was feeling decidedly punchy by the time he handed the Maybach over to the valet and barely acknowledged Atwell, who was surprisingly subdued. He would have expected the man to gloat, instead he caught a glimmer of concern in the guy’s eyes.
“You all right, Chambers?” the man asked, coming to stand beside Ty, who was waiting for the elevator.
“Yeah.” Ty knew his voice was curt, but he was exhausted and not sure if Atwell was going to be an asshole or not.
“Shitty thing to happen. I hear you did us proud.”
Huh? Ty squinted at the shorter man, he couldn’t tell if Atwell was taking the piss.
But the guy looked sincere and even landed an awkward pat on Ty’s back, just as the elevator dinged.
Ty stepped inside without another word but jerked his head in acknowledgment when Atwell nodded at him.
The fuck just happened?
Ty’s finger hovered above the number three button, but at the last second, he swiped his card and punched the P instead.
It was a short, lonely ride up to the penthouse, and when he stepped into the lobby, he threw back his shoulders. He was ready to face whatever censure Hugh wanted to fling at him. God knew, he fucking deserved it.
He rapped on the glass door. A short, loud knock, and it wasn’t long before Hugh—looking strained and exhausted—opened it.
The man stared at Ty for a long moment, before stepping aside and letting him in.
“I wanted to see how she was doing,” Ty explained, his voice hushed and apologetic.
Hugh nodded. “Yes, of course. She’s asleep now. Highly medicated. Out like a light the second her head hit the pillow.”
“Is it okay for her to sleep? With a possible concussion?”
“Doctor says I should let her sleep if she needs it, but to wake her every two hours to check for dizziness, memory lapses, and confusion. Would you like a drink?”
Ty frowned; nobody was reacting the way he expected them to. He shook his head. “No, thanks.”
“I hope you don’t mind if I have one. It’s been a shitty afternoon.”
“Go ahead,” he said. He should probably leave, but he was desperate to see Vicki safely tucked into that horrendous princess bed of hers.
“Have a seat,” Hugh invited, while pouring himself a glass of scotch on the rocks. Ty sat on the same sofa that he and Vicki had snuggled on just a few weeks ago. So much had changed since then, it was hard to comprehend. Hugh took the easy chair on the other side of the coffee table.
“I wanted to thank you,” Hugh said. “I spoke with the police, they all agreed that you behaved commendably, with speed and professionalism that quickly neutralized what could have been a very nasty situation.”
“I was responsible for her,” Ty reminded the man gruffly. “She got hurt on my watch.”
“That she did. Through no fault of yours from what I gather.” Hugh was about three years younger than Ty, but he was a man with a great deal of composure and a keen intelligence that showed in the way he spoke and conducted himself. “My sister can be stubborn, to put it mildly. Letting that twat in, when you explicitly warned her not to, was foolish.”
