Protect Me Not ((Un)Professionally Yours 2)

It was just over an hour’s drive from the airport to the quaint tourist town of Riversend, and Ty got a crick in his neck from keeping his gaze determinedly cast outward. Not once had he done what he longed to do and look back at Vicki, who had fallen silent after ten minutes of sibling banter with Hugh. Ty wondered if she was asleep. He didn’t think she’d slept much on the plane. From his vantage point in the back, he had seen her watch movie after movie, occasionally picking up a book only to put it back down after a few minutes. He thought she may have dozed off after they’d been in flight for about six hours. He had barely slept himself—any drowsiness he may have felt immediately dispelled—whenever she had passed his seat on her way to the bathroom.

He had tried to catch her eye each time, but she’d kept her gaze downcast. He hated it. Hated that they hadn’t spoken since their last lovemaking session about an hour before they’d departed for the airport yesterday. The sex had been frenzied, urgent, and he hated to think that it may have been their last time together. He couldn’t stand that thought.

He wasn’t ready for this to end. He had assumed they still had these next few weeks. But he was starting to recognize how difficult it would be to pull that off. They wouldn’t have the privacy or the time.

Schalk—their reticent driver—drove them straight to Miles’s house. Before Ty was ready for it, they were heading up the stairs from the man’s underground garage into the kitchen, where it felt like the whole world was awaiting Vicki and Hugh’s arrival.

In reality there were only four people: Miles, Charity, Mrs. Hollingsworth, and George. But the greetings were noisy and chaotic. So many squeals, hugs, kisses, with overlapping conversation, and crazy barking from Miles’s little dog.

Ty hung back, feeling like an interloper while the happy reunion was taking place. He backed out of the kitchen and headed to the garage where Schalk was still offloading the luggage.

“Need a hand?”

“Ja. Thanks,” the big guy said, handing Ty a couple of pieces of luggage. They carted the bags up the stairs where the happy group was still shouting to be heard over one another. Ty left the bags on the landing and went down for the rest. But it seemed that Schalk was an overachiever—in addition to being a bit of a show-off—because he was in the process of hauling the other five bags.

“Oh, hey,” Ty said, reaching for his own duffel bag which had been slung over the guy’s shoulder. “This is mine. I think I’ll probably be staying at a hotel or with Brand.”

“Far as I know, you’re staying here,” Schalk said.

Ty frowned. That was news to him.

“I’m sure that’s a mistake.”

The large man shrugged and happily relinquished Ty’s duffel bag, before lumbering upstairs.

Ty dragged his phone out of his jacket pocket and tried to call Brand, but there was no reception down here. He reluctantly made his way back to the kitchen, where things were a little calmer. They were actually taking turns to speak.

Charity spotted him and gave him a huge welcoming smile.

“Hi, Ty,” she greeted warmly, and shocked the hell out of him by coming over to plant a kiss on his cheek.

What in the actual fuck?

“It’s wonderful to see you again,” she said, still with that warm smile. “Sorry, I missed you in the earlier excitement. How have you been?”

“Okay,” he muttered, aware that he sounded like a moody asshole. He was so damned taken aback by the warmth of her welcome. He didn’t know her that well. They had exchanged maybe a dozen words the last time he’d been here. Yet she was welcoming him back like they were long lost friends.

Fuck, and now Miles had seen him too. The man’s face split into a huge grin. He came over—dropping a proprietary arm around Charity’s slender shoulders—and reached out to shake Ty’s hand. The gesture was firm but friendly.

“Hey, glad to have the chance to thank you in person for what you did for Vicki last month.”

“It was my job,” Ty said, awkward as fuck.

“I thought you’d say that,” Miles chuckled. “But she means the world to us, and we’re happy she’s safe.”

“I’ve put you in the guest room next to Vicki,” Charity informed him. “That way you can have easy access to your…what do you call her? Charge?”

Ty’s throat went dry at the thought of having easy access to Vicki while he was here. He attempted to clear the hoarseness from his throat, but it was damned well there to stay. He sounded like he smoked six packs a day, when he replied, “Principal.”

“I thought it would be convenient for you to be right there. In case she needs you.”