Lucky in Love (25 page)

Certainly not good enough for a woman like Mallory, who’d give a perfect stranger the very shirt off her back.

But watching her, being with her, made him feel good.

Worthy.

It was unbelievable to him that one little woman could do that, but she had.

And where did that leave him? He’d never intended to be anything to Mallory other than a good time, but best laid plans…

Maybe he should have run hard and fast that very first night, but there’d been something about her, something that had drawn him in.

Even when he’d cost her, with her job, with her relationships with her family, she’d never hesitated. She’d given him everything she had. And in return, she’d only asked one thing of him. Just one.

Don’t say good-bye. Just go
.

His arms involuntarily tightened on her, and although she gave a soft sigh and cuddled deeper into him, she didn’t waken. Nor did she stir when he finally forced himself to let go of her and slip out of the bed.

Mallory came awake slowly, thinking about all that had happened the day before. The HSC being shut down, her quitting, the diner’s destruction…Ty making it all okay. It was subtle, he was subtle, but last night he’d given her just what she’d needed. Responsive but not smothering, encouraging her to talk when she’d needed to, and letting her be quiet when it’d counted.

She stretched, feeling her muscles ache in a very delicious way. He’d worshipped her body until nearly dawn.

Not just sex.

In truth, it hadn’t been just sex for her since their first time, but she hadn’t been sure how Ty felt.

Until last night.

Last night, the way he’d touched her, how he’d looked while deep in the throes, shuddering against her, claiming her body and giving her his…that had been lovemaking at its finest. Smiling at the memory, she rolled over and reached for him, but he wasn’t in the bed. His pillow was cold.

And something inside her went cold as well.

She grabbed her buzzing phone off the nightstand. She put it there before falling asleep, as was her habit. She thought it might be Ty, but it was a text from Jane:

A new donation…
What had Ty done now
? Wrapping herself in his sheet, she walked through his house, her glow quickly subsiding. There’d never been much of him anywhere in the place to begin with, but the few traces of his existence were gone. His clothes, his duffle bag on the chair, his iPhone.

Gone.

Running now, she got to the garage and flipped on the light. The Shelby was still there, pretty and shiny.

Finished.

Confused, she went back through the house and into the bedroom. There she found the note that must have been on his pillow but had slipped to the floor, weighted down by a single key. A car key. The note read:

She stared at the note for a good ten minutes. He’d left her his baby? Given her permission to sell it so she wouldn’t have to worry about money?

And then signed the note
Love, Ty
?

She let out a laugh, then clapped her hand over her mouth when it was followed by a soft sob.

He loved her.

The fool.

Or maybe that was her.
She
was the fool, because she loved him, too. Oh, how she loved him. “No regrets,” she whispered, and wrapped her fingers around the key.

Life is like a box of chocolates—full of nuts.

M
allory sat in Bill’s office staring at him in disbelief. “Wait,” she said, shaking her head. “Tell me that last part again. Ty tried to give you another donation, and you turned him down?”

“Yes,” Bill said. “He’s done enough for HSC, and I mean that in the best possible way.”

Mallory swallowed hard. It was true. He’d done a lot for her, too. And even as he’d gone back to his life, he’d tried to make sure she’d be taken care of. She wished he was still here so she could smack him.

And then hug him.

“You turned down money?” she asked. “You never turn down money.”

“It’s not always about the bottom line.” He smiled briefly but warmly. “See, even an old dog can learn new tricks.”

“But Jane told me there was a donation.”

“Yes. Another donation did come in. Mrs. Burland donated one hundred thousand dollars and—”

Mallory gasped and Bill held up a hand. “And she wanted it to be clear that everyone know she was the donor. She said, and I quote, ‘
I want it yelled from the rooftops that I was the one to save HSC
.’”

Mallory just stared. “Mrs. Burland,” she repeated. “The woman who hates all of us, especially me?”

“Yes,” Bill said. “Although I don’t think she hates you as much as the rest of us. I believe Jane told you, there’s a special condition on her donation.”

“Me.”

“Yeah. Consider your new salary for HSC a raise since I don’t have it in the budget to offer you one for your RN position in the ER.”

“But I quit.”

“So un-quit. Take the knowledge that HSC is now secure, and so is your job, and get out of my office and back to work.”

She thought about that for all of two seconds. “Yes, sir.” She got up and moved to the door.

“Oh, and Mallory?”

She turned back.

“Don’t ever quit again. My voice mail and e-mail box is overloaded with just about everyone in town demanding I’d best not lose you. Your mother has been hounding my ass since you walked out. Hell,
my
mother is hounding me. Understand?”

For the first time since she’d woken alone that morning, Mallory managed a smile. “I understand.”

One week later, Mallory’s life looked good—on paper. She had her job back, the future of HSC was secured, and the town was behind her.

What she didn’t have was Ty.

Get used to it
, she told herself, but on Saturday she rolled out of bed with a decided lack of enthusiasm. She’d done as she’d wanted. She’d stepped out of her comfort zone. She’d been selfish and lived her life the way she wanted, and it’d been more exciting than she could have imagined.

But how did she go back to being herself?

You don’t, she decided. She’d put her heart on the line for the first time in her life but she’d made the choice to do it.

No regrets
.

That was the day she got the delivery—a plain padded envelope, the return address too blurry and smeared to make out. She opened it up and a carefully wrapped package fell out. Opening the tissue paper, she stared down at the beautiful charm bracelet she’d coveted from the charity auction all those weeks ago.

There was no note, but none was necessary. She knew who’d sent it, and she pressed her hand to her aching heart at what it meant.

Ty, of course. He’d understood her as no other man ever had. He got that she was vested in this town, maybe in the same way he’d yearned to be, that the bracelet meant something to her. He’d added a charm, a ’68 Shelby. She had no idea where he could have gotten it from, or what it’d cost him.

What did it mean
?

It meant he cared about her, she told herself. Deeply. It meant she was on his mind, maybe even that he missed her.

She missed him, too, so very much.

Throat tight, she put the bracelet on, swallowed her tears, and shored up her determination to continue stretching her wings.

Two weeks later, Ty was on a flight back to the U.S. after an assignment that had involved escorting diplomats to a Somalian peace treaty.

The team he’d been with were all well-trained, seasoned men with the exception of one, who was fresh out of the military. Their first night, there’d been a kidnapping attempt, but they’d shut it down with no problem.

There’d been no injuries on Ty’s team unless he counted the newbie, who’d gotten so nervous when it was over that he’d thrown up and needed an IV fluid replacement. Ty had done the honors.

“Sorry,” the kid muttered to Ty that night, embarrassed as he watched Ty pull the IV. “I lost it.”

Ty shook his head. “Happens.”

“But not to you, right?”

On Ty’s first mission, and on every assignment up to the plane crash, he’d thrived on what he’d been doing. He’d believed in it with every fiber of his soul, understood that he’d belonged out there doing what he could to save lives.

After the crash, he hadn’t just lost four friends. He’d also lost something of himself. His ability to connect. To get attached.

Until Lucky Harbor. Until the nosy, pestering people of Lucky Harbor, who cared about everyone and everything in their path. Including him.

And Mallory. God, Mallory. She’d been the last piece of his shattered soul fitting back into place. “Hell yeah, it happens to me.”

The kid looked surprised to hear Ty admit such a thing but he nodded in appreciation. “I can do this,” he told Ty. “I’m ready for whatever comes our way.”

But nothing did.

They spent two entire weeks doing nothing more than cooling their heels in the African bush, where the most exciting thing to happen was watching through the long-range scope of a rifle as an elephant gave birth in the distance.

Ty had come back to this because he thought he’d needed the rush of the job to be happy.

So where in the holy hell was his happy
?

He knew the answer to that. It was thousands and thousands of miles away, with a woman who’d decimated the carefully constructed wall around his heart. And that’s when it hit him between the eyes: It wasn’t the job that fueled him, that kept him sane.

It was Mallory.

She
was his team. She and Lucky Harbor. When he was there with her, she filled him up. Made him whole.

Made him everything.

Christ, he was slow. Too slow. It was probably far too late for such realizations. He’d been a fool and walked away from the best thing to ever happen to him, and Mallory didn’t suffer fools well.

He looked out the airplane window as they finally circled D.C. Normally, at this point he’d be thinking about his priorities: sleeping for two days, fueling up on good food, and maybe finding a warm, willing woman.

He could get behind the sleep and the food, but there was only one woman he could think of, only one woman he wanted.

He’d left Lucky Harbor certain this had been his future, the nomadic, dangerous work he’d given his life to. He’d told himself it was the right thing to do, that he had to do this to make his team’s deaths mean something. Plus, he could never give Mallory the kind of life she wanted. It just wasn’t for him.

He’d been wrong on all counts. He knew it now. Brad, Tommy, Kelly, and Trevor’s deaths would
always
mean something. And
his
life meant something, too. Probably he’d always known that, but he hadn’t had his head screwed on right for a long time. He had it on tight now.

Debriefing took far too long. Frances was waiting for him. A tall, stacked blonde, she had mile-long legs that looked so good in a power suit she was her boss’ sole weapon for recruiting.

Once upon a time, she’d recruited the hell out of Ty.

Now there was nothing between them but an odd mix of hostility and affection. She looked him over from head to toe and then back again. “You look like shit.”

“Aw. Thanks.”

She didn’t offer him a smile, just another long gaze, giving nothing away. “You’re not staying,” she guessed.

“I’m not staying.” He tossed her his security pass and walked.

“Do you really think a place like Lucky Harbor has anything to offer you?” she called after him.

He knew it did. He had connections there, real ones.

“Dammit, Ty,” she said to his back when he kept walking. “At some point, you have to stop running.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

Ty caught a red-eye flight into Seattle, and as he landed he brought up Lucky Harbor’s Facebook. He’d resisted until now, but as the page loaded, he felt a smile curve his mouth at the latest note posted on the wall:

Dawn hit the eastern sky as Ty drove a rental car into Lucky Harbor. He wondered if Mallory was still asleep in her bed, warm and soft.

Alone.

Christ, he hoped so. It’d only been two weeks but he’d left abruptly. Cruelly. He had no right to be back, no right at all to ask her to forgive him.

But that’s exactly what he was going to do.

The ocean was still an inky purple as he drove past the pier, then hit the brakes.

The Shelby was in the lot at the diner.

Heart pounding, he parked and entered. The place smelled like fresh paint. The floors looked new and yet seemed to be made of the same timeless linoleum as they’d been before the sprinkler situation. He found Amy, Grace, and Mallory seated at the counter eating chocolate chip pancakes.

Or they had been eating, until he entered.

Three forks went still in the air.

Grace’s and Amy’s gazes slid to Mallory, but she was paying them no attention whatsoever. She was staring at Ty, her fork halfway to her mouth.

He’d walked through fire fights with less nerves, but he took hope from the sight of the charm bracelet glinting on her wrist.

“This is a private meeting,” Grace told him. “Locals only.”

“Grace,” Mallory said quietly, her eyes never leaving Ty, but for once not giving anything of herself away, either. Ty had absolutely no idea what she was thinking; her face was carefully blank.

A lesson she’d probably learned from him.