Protect Me Not ((Un)Professionally Yours 2)

He nodded and his throat worked as if he wanted to say something. In the end, he remained mute and continued to stare at her intently.

It was unnerving, being watched like that. Vicki shifted her gaze to her teacup, not sure what more there was to say.

“Vicki,” Ty rumbled after a few moments of extremely uncomfortable silence. He waited until she met his eyes. “This last year with you hasn’t been…terrible.”

“Be still, my heart.” The sarcastic rejoinder was out before she could prevent it, and his eyes sparked with what looked like laughter.

“What I mean to say is, I didn’t hate it.”

Not better. Her unimpressed gaze must have conveyed that sentiment to him, because his lips twitched and his dimples flashed.

“Are you going somewhere with this, Ty?” She poured as much saccharine into the question as she could. Fake sugar was all he was going to get from her right now.

“I just wanted you to know that spending my days with you was…well, it was okay.”

“All right, good to know. I’m grateful your days were tolerable at least. Most of us only dream of attaining such giddy heights of job satisfaction.”

Hugh’s study door opened before Ty could respond, her brother popped his head out to yell, “Front desk called, Bella’s on her way up.”

He shut the door again, muttering something about being her damned social secretary.

“I should go,” Ty said. Vicki nodded and he hesitated for a moment, before asking, “When will you be returning to work?”

“Tomorrow.”

“You sure you’re okay to go back so soon?”

“I’m fine.”

He didn’t look convinced but pushed to his feet. “Chance will be covering for me until Monday. I’m on mandatory medical leave for the rest of the week.”

His words sent a dart of ice-cold fear plunging through her body. Had he been hurt? Why had that likelihood not occurred to her before now? She ran her eyes over his body, relieved not to find any obvious injury. He didn’t appear to be limping or favoring a particular body part. But he was so damned stoic, she could easily imagine him hiding a wound from her.

“Oh, my God, you weren’t hurt, were you? I didn’t think to ask…I just assumed you were okay. I’m so sorry!”

“I’m fine, hon—uh, Vicki. They have to assess my mental state after a violent incident to be sure I’m fit for duty. It’s company protocol.”

Her heartbeat slowed as her panic receded.

“Okay…good. I would hate to know that I was responsible for you getting hurt. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“It’s my job to protect you,” he reminded her, his voice gentle. “To take an injury in your stead. And I…failed at that.”

This again.

“Ty, your life is no less valuable than mine.”

“This is what I signed up for, Vicki.”

“And after you’re done here, you’ll just move on to the next person, willing to take a bullet for him or her?”

“I try to avoid that eventuality at all costs. And if I do my job properly, it would never come to that.” He ran his moody, enigmatic gaze over her face and sighed. “For what it’s worth, I would put myself between you and danger even if I weren’t being paid to do so.”

His words sent a thrill of pleasure careening down her spine. She wasn’t sure what to read into that statement. Or even how to respond to it.

“You would do the same for anybody. You’re a good man, Ty,” she eventually whispered.

He folded his arms over his chest. The gesture seemed defensive. “I’m not so sure of that.”

His response was enigmatic. She didn’t know which part of her statement he wasn’t sure of, and it confused her.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he said.

“You’re not coming to see me again?” Why the hell had she asked him that?

“It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

Of course not. He was on leave, and she was work. Why would he want to spend his days off in her company? Maybe if they were still having sex, he’d have an excuse…but just to hang out with her? Why would he ever waste his time like that?

“Goodbye, Tyler.” She shifted her attention to her teacup, hoping that he would take it as the dismissal it was. She sensed him hovering, but after a moment longer he sighed, a deep, sad sound.

“Take care of yourself, hon—Vicki.” It was the second time he had nearly slipped up and called her honey. She refused to read anything into that.

When she didn’t reply, he sighed again…and left.

When Ty entered his empty, sterile apartment, he was greeted by nothing but echoing silence.

For too long, this place had been a refuge from the world. Quiet, cold, and full of ghosts. His eyes sought out the wall of remembrance—shrine—and his gaze bounced from photo to photo. Each one a not-distant-enough memory.

His brother, Tanner, cradling a motorcycle helmet in the crook of his arm, laughing at Ty, who had taken the picture. His parents entwined in each other’s arms, their eyes entangled in a candid moment of love, that Ty had caught without their knowledge. Dylan, in a tux, grinning at his new bride. So much to live for.