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“She’s a free agent now.”
Ellie nodded, and the soft glow from the bar lights caught chestnut tones in her hair. “I don’t know him except to say hello, but he seems very different from Roger—more the strong, silent type.”
Did she like the strong, silent type? “Hmm.”
“I mean, I understand his appeal. According to Melody, he’s single, available, and gorgeous enough to have graced the pages of the Cincinnati firefighters’ fund-raiser calendar every year of his tenure in the department.” Holding fingers in front her, she added, “Three times as the cover.”
Jeez, listen to her rhapsodize over the guy. Maybe Chief Bradley was the inspiration for Ellie’s quest to enhance her sexual skills?
An unfamiliar sensation singed his gut like cheap whiskey. What the hell was wrong with him? One minute he’s convinced she’s after Roger, the next, Chief Bradley. Jealousy, a voice in his head whispered, but he immediately dismissed the notion. He didn?
?t do jealousy. He avoided volatile emotions of any kind. Having grown up with a front row seat to his father’s unstable temper, he didn’t plan on turning his own life into the same kind of freak show. So why was he suddenly ready to strangle the fire chief with his bare hands just because Ellie found the guy “appealing”? The humidity was making him edgy, that was all.
“Oh my, I guess Lou Ann and Junior made up.”
Happy for a distraction, Tyler followed her gaze to the alcove by the pool table and decided she had a gift for understatement. Lou Ann and Junior looked about halfway to make-up sex in their not-so-dark corner. Junior’s hands were all over the seat of Lou Ann’s painted-on jeans, and she’d plastered herself against his chest so tightly the double-Ds threatened to spill out of her tank top.
Ellie patted his hand. “Sorry.”
“What for, Doc?”
“I know you were, ah, interested in her. I guess you missed your window of opportunity.”
Tyler stared at his beer and shrugged. “I’m not interested in Lou Ann. The only reason we gave each other a second glance was because Junior managed to piss her off and I was too bored to question her motives when she started talking to me. I’m glad they’ve patched things up.”
“Well, for your butt’s sake, I hope you don’t get bored again anytime soon.”
“Honey, I haven’t been bored since you turned up.”
The comment earned him a smile, but it didn’t quite chase the wounded look from her eyes.
“How about you, Doc? It that why you’re here tonight? Boredom?”
“No, I wanted to get away from”—she sighed and moved her hands restlessly on the bar—“stuff for a while.”
He took a sip of his beer and inspected her face. Yeah, something troubled her. The corners of her extremely kissable mouth kept wilting.
He had a reputation for keeping things light, superficial even, and minding his own business, so he couldn’t really explain what made him tug her stool closer and prod. “Tough day at the office?”
“No. Easy day. One splinterectomy, but it was a complete success.”
“So why aren’t you celebrating your surgical triumph?”
She lifted a shoulder and let it drop in a gesture that managed to convey both frustration and resignation. “I stopped by to see Frank afterward. The visit kind of sucked the triumph right out of me.” She aimed a tight smile at him. “Enough said on that topic.”
Well, hell. Frank was a bitter, self-absorbed bastard and a sorry excuse for a father. And Tyler considered himself an expert on lousy dads. Living with Big Joe had equated to sharing space with a rabid Rottweiler. He’d made himself scarce until the second he turned eighteen, and then officially got the fuck out. When Joe had tipped over from a heart attack a few years later, Tyler had figured he was finally done with the man, but unfortunately, losing his father was like losing a limb. Sometimes he still woke up in a cold sweat, reeling from the phantom pain of beefy fists pummeling him.
Frank, however, still lived and breathed, and as certain men would do, aimed his foul mood at his offspring. Tyler sympathized with her situation, even as he told himself to stay out of it. She clearly wasn’t looking for sympathy and didn’t seem keen on sharing details. He respected her desire to keep her own counsel. Having just gotten an earful of Melody and Roger’s sex issues as well as the latest gossip concerning his own maligned manhood, he understood the advantages of discretion. Why her silence left him vaguely disappointed and wondering if she ever confided in anyone, he couldn’t say. God knows they had far better things to discuss than Frank.
The humidity had kicked Ellie’s waves up a notch—closer to the wild tangle he remembered. Absently, he tucked a stray tendril behind her ear and spotted the small mark on her forehead.
“What’s this?”
“What’s what?” She glanced at him uncertainly, but her cheeks went up in flames when he ran his finger over the tender spot near her hairline. “It’s nothing. You can thank Frank for that.”
A fist gripped his gut and his vision actually hazed for an instant. He carefully placed his half-empty beer on the bar and stood. “I believe I will,” he said softly.
“What?” Her brow creased as she worked out the meaning of his reply, then her eyes went wide, and she placed her hand on his forearm. “Tyler, wait.”
