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Authors: Kathleen O'Reilly

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BOOK: Just Surrender...
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T
YLER’S FIRST INDICATION
as to the full extent of his trouble was the glare from Patience. He winced and found a booth near the window. The diner was busy for a Tuesday, but there was no sign of Edie.
Not that he could blame her.

There were men who didn’t accept their mistakes, but Tyler took his own lumps.

Although if it hadn’t been for Max…

Wanda tossed a menu in his general direction, and Tyler smiled cautiously. “What’s good today?”

“Fried testicles,” she snapped.

Beneath the table his hand went protectively to his crotch. “Is Edie here?”

“Why do you care?”

“I want to apologize.”

“Were you dead? You don’t look dead. You look very healthy. A little rough around the edges. Slept in your clothes? Out whoring?”

It was obvious—even to a less perceptive mind—that a simple apology wasn’t going to fix this. If he threw himself in front of a bus, would that help? He noted Wanda’s artic gaze.

Nope. The bus wouldn’t help, either. “I need to talk to Edie and apologize.”

Wanda popped her gum and then shrugged. “Let me see if she’s here. Don’t know, though. Sometimes she’s in. Sometimes she’s out. Sometimes she’s out for a long time. In fact, sometimes she’s out until hell freezes over, if you take my meaning.”

“Please?”

“Practice that begging, mister. You’re going to need it.”

If Tyler were a smarter man, he would leave now, but then he caught sight of Edie coming his way. Her eyes were cool, dismissive, unforgiving, as if he didn’t exist.

He needed to exist in Edie’s world because she knew him in ways no one else did. Edie was a reminder of all the good things that his father had slowly dissected from him.

Wanda’s words echoed in his head.
Until hell freezes over.

Yes, she was currently mad as hell. And yes, hell would have to freeze first.

So would he wait that long?

For her? Hell, yes.

E
DIE NEVER LIKED
confrontations, or at least, the meaningful kind. A confrontation meant that interests were vested, and in the end, there would be one winner, and one loser. Edie didn’t like to lose, but right now there was a hole in her gut, much like a loser’s would feel.
Or so she’d been told.

After skimming damp palms over faded jeans, she sat down at Tyler’s table.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler said.

She wished he were a little more chipper like her dad had been because then it would be easier to write him off. Apologies were coming a dime a dozen today, but still they were merely words.

Edie waved an easy-breezy hand, indicating a lack of pain or hurt or disappointment or any sort of emotional connection at all. “Don’t worry. Hey. You were busy.”

“I can explain,” he offered, his eyes betraying what looked to be actual regret.

“No need.” After all, it wasn’t as if she wasn’t dying to hear his excuse. She’d known him for next-to-no time, and there was no way that she would let herself
hurt
from such a cheap, meaningless relationship. In fact, because she was not hurt, she grinned and leaned her elbows on the table. “Let’s just write it off as just one of those things, and build a bridge. I’m a fan of bridges. What about you?”

“Edie—” he began in that silky, earnest voice of his, and she let the sound wash over her, softening her anger.

Quickly she cut him off before she softened even more. “Hey, you’re an adult. I’m an adult. It’s not like you have to check in with me, and it wasn’t even a big deal. Last night, we had a ladies’ night, drinking, carousing, doing all those fun, lady things. Now that I think about it—because I haven’t up until now—you probably would have been in the way.”

Edie paused, giving him an opportunity to explain. Although she hoped that her face didn’t say, “I’ll give you another chance.” She suspected that it did, because slowly, awkwardly, he began to tell her.

“I was at work, doing this big project, and I lost track of time…and you don’t deserve that.”

“Deserve what?” she scoffed, doing more easy-breezy hands, and keeping the smile plastered firmly on her face. It was harder than it looked.

“I screwed up, and I should have called, but then…” He shoved a hand through his hair and swore. “I don’t abandon my obligations.”

For the first time, she let a hint of anger creep into her voice. “I’m not an obligation.”

Tyler whacked himself on the head, not nearly as hard as she would have, but then he looked at her, and he seemed so miserable that if he hadn’t stood her up last night, she might have reached out to comfort him. “Can I make this up to you?”

Edie laughed. “Nothing to make up. Maybe in Texas you guys are all, ‘Oh, little lady needs some TLC because she might get trampled,’ but this is New York, lover. We don’t expect anything from our men at all.”

That at least was true. New York was a jungle where only the strongest survived. In the movies, the male/female dynamic always seemed so easy, and she’d heard rumors that other cities weren’t so bloodthirsty, but Edie didn’t believe it. The male species was hardwired to dominate. The female was hardwired to submit.

Winners and losers. Always.

“Can I take you out this afternoon? Lunch? Show? Public flogging at my hotel?”

His mouth twisted nervously, and she almost felt his pain. Edie covered a hand over her face and coughed because empathy implied that someone mattered and that really wasn’t necessary. Yes, she wanted to go with him, yes, her legs were already poised in the locked and upright position to do that very thing, but Edie had work to do here. She had obligations to her friends, and to herself. She took them as seriously as he did.

Or, at least, she was starting to now.

“Please. Before now, I really truly sucked at these things, and I didn’t care. I still do suck at this, Edie. But now I care.”

Edie glanced down at the menu between them and slowly, cautiously, she looked up and met his eyes. Slowly, cautiously, she nodded. “Meet me here tonight,” she instructed.

“You know I was kidding about the flogging at the hotel?”

For the first time that afternoon, Tyler smiled at her, and Edie smiled in response.

“Lighten up, Hart,” she told him, reaching out to touch his hand, a buddy sort of hit rather than a gentle caress, but her fingers lingered. Hopefully he didn’t notice.

He grabbed her fingers, held them there and nodded once. “Eight?”

“Make it nine,” she instructed. “Wanda has an exam tomorrow and I need to cover for her so she can pass. Speaking of, I need to get back to it. Books to balance, food to cook, people to feed. Lots of hungry people.” Thankfully, the diner looked busy, and the lies didn’t seem as obvious as they felt.

“See you then,” he said, squeezing her hand before letting go.

Edie slid away, out of reach of the unwavering eyes, and escaped to the kitchen. There was an anticipatory spring in her step and a flutter of hope in her heart that was absolutely not from being happy.

Why had he come back? Her life would have been so much easier if Tyler Hart had simply disappeared forever.

11
T
HEY WERE HALFWAY DOWN
the steps to the 34th Street subway station, when Tyler stopped what he knew was a disaster in the making. “Do you really have your heart set on Rollerblading?” he asked carefully, as he dodged the crowd and worked his way back up the stairs, pulling Edie behind him.
“My heart is set on nothing. Why?” she asked.

“I’d like to do something where conversation is possible. I’m not very good at conversation, so it would be like part of a lesson. You promised,” he reminded her.

“You can talk while Rollerblading,” Edie pointed out.

Tyler moved her out of the way of a man carrying his bike—to the subway. New York was a strange and curious place. Down below, in the bowels of the earth, Tyler could hear the next rumbling crowd moving up toward them.

“You can’t talk while Rollerblading. That’s yelling,” Tyler yelled as people spilled out around them. “I don’t like to yell.”

Edie stood fast. “People don’t converse in New York,” she yelled.

People swelled around them. For a minute she disappeared in the sea of faces, but she was still holding his hand. A good thing. Eventually, the crowd thinned out and Tyler took his shot and tugged her closer.

She was arguing with him but they were a step away from doing something other than Rollerblading. Yes. It was definitely progress.

“So where are we going?” she asked him.

And there, a beacon in blue and white, was the answer.

Edie noticed the direction of his gaze and gasped in horror. “The Empire State Building? It’s hot, the lines are long and—”

“You hate it?”

She met his eyes, and Tyler assumed his most beseeching, puppy-dog expression. It wasn’t a look he did well, but apparently it was enough. Edie smiled. “If you have your heart set on going, we’ll go.”

T
URNED OUT THE OBSERVATION
deck was closed due to repairs. While Edie spent the next ten minutes, charming, arguing, bribing the lady at the desk, Tyler noticed the security guard, a thin, older man with still-sharp eyes that were assessing Tyler as if he knew him.
As the guard approached, Tyler realized why the security guard knew him. His wife had been the CABG that Dr. Keating had performed on Monday. Hoffman?
Howard?

“Dr. Hart,” the guard was saying. “Charlie Heeney. My wife…”

Tyler interrupted before the man could divulge Tyler’s actual career choice to Edie. As a medical professional, he understood the importance of not saying too much too soon, revealing information in direct proportion to the listener’s ability to calmly process said information.

In Tyler’s opinion, he’d just dodged one bullet, getting Edie to come out with him tonight after last night’s screwup, before having to dodge another. He needed a break. Tyler wasn’t used to a lot of what did Edie call it? TLC. Yes, that’s what it was.

Cynthia wasn’t nearly as hands-on as Edie was, and Tyler was discovering that hands-on had a lot of things going for it, namely plenty of lewd touching, but it was hard work, as well.

Tyler clasped the man in a friendly gesture, before pitching his voice low. “She’s doing okay?”

“Up and about and giving me orders, and I’m thinking I wouldn’t mind having her in the hospital for an extra day or two,” the guard complained, but then he rubbed his face. “Mother of God, I thought I’d never hear her give me orders again.”

Tyler kept an eye on Edie, who was laughing with the ticket agent, clearly still determined to get them upstairs. “Can you do me a favor?”

“You’re wanting to go to the top, are you? I’d be honored to give you a lift. My humble way of saying thanks.”

“That’d be great, but don’t mention the surgery. My friend’s funny that way. She’s been trying to bribe the agent into getting us up there, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was a waste of time. She loves to get her way.”

“Mrs. Heeney’s just the same. No worries,” Charlie reassured him. “It’s a hard row to hoe, keeping a woman happy, day in, day out. A man might think they’d have a clue of the sacrifices we make, but the truth is, I don’t think they know.”

Tyler looked over at Edie and smiled. “No, they have no idea.”

The security guard strolled toward the reception desk. “Janet, is there some problem?”

“This couple wants to go to the top, but I told her no can do. Construction.”

Heeney stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, as if considering the matter. “Well, construction hasn’t started yet, don’t even think they’ve brought there tools or supplies. And I’m thinking it’s hard finding a time when you’re both free to come back.”

On cue, Tyler and Edie nodded apologetically. Heeney jangled his keys and returned their nod. “Janet, I was wanting to take a last look around. I’ll take care of this.”

As he waved them on to the elevator, Edie grinned and grabbed Tyler’s hand, and the security guard gave him a wink. Once they arrived on the roof, Edie led Tyler over to the south observation deck and for a few minutes, they were silent, taking in the view. It was a different world, a world of new opportunities that Taylor wanted to explore. To conquer.

“It’s not Houston, I’ll give you that.”

Edie kept her eyes locked on the city. “My father showed up at the diner today.”

He noted her careful stillness and asked, “How did it go?”

She was silent, then she looked at him and frowned. “Nice. Normal. Very strange.”

Tyler winced at the words. Frank Hart had kept his son from caring, and Dr. Higgins made his daughter care too much. Tyler didn’t like lying to her about his profession, but he wasn’t sure exactly how to tell her, either.

“Would you be happy if your father was an ordinary eight-to-fiver? Punching a clock, and coming home to complain about his boss?” Tyler hoped her answer would be no.

“I didn’t used to want that. I used to think my father was the greatest man in the world.”

“And now?”

Her smile was more than a little sad. “He’s still the greatest man in the world. When you’re a kid, you don’t worry about connecting to your parents—they’re like gods. But when you’re an adult, you realize that gods are unreachable, matter how high you fly, no matter how fast you run.” Then she laughed at herself and he took her hand and she held it tightly. “I don’t mean to be depressing. How was the museum? What’s the day-to-day like? I should go there and see a day in the life of a curator.”

“You wouldn’t like it, trust me. Not enough excitement for you.”

Edie breathed in deeply, taking in all the hopes and dreams that lay just out of her reach. “I don’t want to slow down. Not ever.”

“Never is an absolute. Absolutes are always wrong.”

“But there’s so much to do. So many people to talk to, to learn from. So many topics. So many worlds. How can you stop a top from spinning?”

The words said one thing, the worried tone implied another.

“Eventually it falls over.” He leaned over the side. “Hopefully not off the Empire State Building.”

Edie looked at him. “You like being settled, don’t you?”

Tyler frowned. “I’ve never thought of myself as the settled type before.”

“You are.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t flit. You pick a spot and stay there. You’re no flake.”

“Well, no, but it’s not very flattering to think of yourself as the solitary signpost at the end of the woods. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be Times Square.”

Edie motioned toward the flash of neon. “Sometimes all those lights can burn your retinas. Grounded is good. The world needs gravity, or else we’d all be floating in space.”

“I’m gravity?”

“You have gravitas. From the Latin word for weightiness.”

Tyler considered that for a minute. “Heroic virtue or character flaw?”

“Both.”

“So when do we get to dissect you?” he asked. Tyler simply was who he was.

“This isn’t about quid pro quo. You’re all surface, all smooth waters, but nobody gets to see what’s underneath,” said the woman who ran in place at a thousand miles per hour. However, Tyler was smart enough not to point that out.

“You want to see what’s underneath? I’ll show you what’s underneath.”

“Do not think that your smarmy double entendres will divert me from the truth.”

“I’ll consider myself warned. Do you want to eat? I’m hungry.”

“How about dessert?” she asked him with an impish smile, dimples flashing. Instantly his mind moved on to bigger and better things. Getting naked. Feeling her body locked against his. Her mouth…

“I love dessert,” he said, getting hungrier by the second. But not for food. Not anymore.

“Great, I know this French place on Twenty-Fourth Street. The pastries are to die for.”

He blinked, wondering why women weren’t as simple as men. “Pastries? Were we talking about pastries? I wasn’t talking about pastries. “

She kissed him soft and sweet, which of course turned him on even more.

Sadly, he shook his head. “Pastries it is.”

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