Nearest Thing to Heaven (Maverick Junction) (24 page)

She lit the tree and enjoyed the play of lights off the decorations they’d hung. Then, with Christmas music in the background and sunlight pouring through the windows, she settled in at the kitchen table, both Trouble and Lilybelle at her feet in an uneasy truce, and lost herself in her designs.

It surprised her she was able to focus after last night, but Ty’s house exuded an air of serenity. She actually managed to lose herself in her work.

Sometime later, the front door opened, and for one awful second, she panicked.
Nathan.

“Tink? It’s me.”

Her heart settled down to a near-manic pace.

“Hate to bother you, but my stomach’s thinking somebody slit my throat. Time to grab some lunch. I considered eating with the guys, but, well, I wanted to check on you. Besides, you’re a whole lot better looking than Cook.”

She took a peek at the still-crooked wall clock. Ten after one. How had that happened?

“I’m in the kitchen,” she called, saving her work as she did.

“Fixing food?”

She laughed. “Hardly. I totally lost track of time.”

He’d left his boots on the porch and padded into the room in stocking feet. He smelled of the outside, of brisk, cold winds, and, not unpleasantly, of horses.

Leaning down, his mouth moved close to hers. “How ’bout an appetizer?”

When their lips touched, she reached up, put her hand at the back of his head, and pulled him closer. One kiss led to another and another.

“I need you,” he whispered.

“Oh, Ty. Yes.”

With a growl, he slid his arms behind her knees and picked her up. His lips never leaving hers, he carried her up the stairs and into his room. He laid her down on the bed, stretching out beside her.

Slowly, he undressed her, exploring, tasting, worshipping as he went until she was nearly delirious.

“Your turn,” she said, working on his buttons.

When they came together, the world stood still. It was only the two of them. Nothing else. No one else.

“Oh, Sophie, the more I have, the more I want.”

Pensive, she ran a fingertip over his shoulder blade. She’d fallen off the wagon. Again. Right now it was awfully hard to be sorry about it.

“Want to go for a double feature?”

Laughing, she shoved at him. “You need to get back to work, and so do I.” She sent him a searching look. “Won’t your guys be wondering why lunch took so long?”

“Nah. I told them I was famished.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “For you.”

“You did not.”

Those dark gray eyes grew solemn. “No. But I am.”

His kiss this time was passionate but without the heated rush. His hands moved over her. “I’ve never felt like this. Never.”

Half an hour later, he rolled out of bed and offered her a hand. “How about I fix us sandwiches for lunch? Maybe a few chips? I might even have a couple of Dottie’s cookies stashed away where the boys can’t find them.”

“Sounds good, but only if you let me help.”

“Well, then, let’s get going. Day’s wasting, woman.”

She slanted him a look. “Really? You didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry a few minutes ago.”

“Priorities tend to slide around. Gotta take care of first things first.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He laughed and took her hand. They walked downstairs to the kitchen. Together.

W
hen the kids tore through the door at four, Sophie closed her laptop. There’d be no more work today. She and Ty’d had a slight tussle about the kids before he’d gone back out that afternoon. He’d planned to have Haley watch them after his parents brought them home. That made absolutely no sense when she was right here.

She could handle three little kids. Couldn’t she? Her pulse raced.

Ty’s mom followed the boys in and helped with the unbundling, then sent them to the mudroom with their outerwear. Sophie forced herself not to squirm as Mrs. Rawlins turned her attention on her, searched her face, took in the bruising.

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

“I am. Yes. Thanks to your son and Brawley.”

“They’re good boys, both of them. If you need anything, will you call me?”

“I will. Thank you.”

Ty’s mom wrapped her in a quick, hard hug, then stepped away, giving her grandsons the eye. “You boys behave yourselves.”

“We will, Grandma,” came a trio of voices.

And then Mrs. Rawlins was gone, and Sophie found herself alone with three energetic four-year-olds.
What had she gotten herself into?

While they bounced on the sofa, the boys gave her a running commentary on the entire day’s events before deciding it was snack time.

Wandering into the kitchen, she dug out mini-yogurts and poured three glasses of milk, then stood back and watched while they devoured both. Afterward, the four of them put together a haphazard meal. None of the boys seemed to be too picky. They finally settled on sloppy Joes and a bag of tater-tots she found in the freezer.

Sophie insisted on a salad to go with it, though, so the boys sat on high stools and watched her slice and chop. They did the tossing—which meant cleaning up the floor when they finished. Although, truthfully, Trouble took care of most of the spillage.

Lilybelle, who’d run upstairs to cower under the bed again when the boys came home, stayed there despite their attempts to draw her out. The pup somehow managed to be in ten places at once, always underfoot. Every time Sophie made to scold him, he’d look at her with those big sad eyes, and she’d cave.

When she saw him start to squat, though, she said, “Jesse, take Trouble outside. Quick.”

“Come here, Trouble.”

The dog darted out when Jesse opened the back door, averting another cleanup.

Not wanting to be left out on an opportunity for a good romp, Josh hollered, “Wait for me.”

“Me, too,” Jonah yelled.

Catching the door before it closed, they followed their brother and Trouble outside.

Slumped in a chair, surveying the damage they’d done in such a short time, Sophie wholeheartedly applauded their decision.

Ty walked in and found her there.

“Tough day at the office?” he drawled.

“You’d better believe it.”

He pulled her up, drew her in, and kissed her.

“Mmm.” She licked her lips. “I’m feeling much better already.”

He nodded toward the backyard. “The hooligans out there?”

“Every one of them. Two and four-legged. Except Lilybelle. She’s still in cowering mode.”

Ty was the glue that held everything together. Once he came on scene, things evened out and some semblance of order returned.

Fed, played with, bathed, and pajamaed, the boys finally slowed down enough for the Sandman to catch them. By eight, they were down for the count.

And thank God for that, Sophie thought. These boys of Ty’s were a miracle—but an exhausting one. She smiled.

“What?” Ty knelt down to light the fire.

“I know I sound like a broken record, but I honestly don’t know how you manage all this. The house, the ranch, the boys.”

“You kind of grow into it. And Haley helps. Besides riding herd on the boys once in a while, she comes in every week and digs us out, changes the bed linens, and pops a couple casseroles in the freezer. Mom and Babs take pity on us, too, and send over dishes occasionally.”

He stood. “Want a glass of wine?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“Sophie—” He threaded his fingers in her hair.

She gave her head an almost imperceptible shake. “Let’s not discuss anything serious. Not right now.” She shivered.

“Cold?”

“A little.”

“Instead of running upstairs for that ugly Cubs sweatshirt, why don’t you dig in the closet there by the door? Should be something you can slip into to keep warm.”

“You don’t really hate my sweatshirt.”

“Oh, yeah, I do.”

“Sheesh. Some people have no taste whatsoever.” Sophie opened the closet and rummaged around for something that would work. Tucked back in the corner, half-hidden under a blanket, she spotted a pile of gifts. “What’s all this?”

Ty moved behind her, two glasses of wine in his hands. “Santa’s gifts for the kids. Guess I need to move them to a better hiding spot. One of the boys is bound to find them there.”

Perplexed, she stared at them. “What did you do to them?”

“What do you mean? I wrapped them.”

She laughed. “No. You did
not
wrap these, Ty. You stapled them into bags.”

“Same thing. What’s the difference?”

“What’s the difference? Paper would be nice. Held together with tape, maybe? Some ribbon and bows.” She held up a bag with Santa and Rudolph flying through the night sky. “The boys expect beautiful gifts from this guy.”

“Jeez, Sophie. They know Santa and his elves can’t wrap their way out of a paper bag.”

She raised her brows.

“They’re happy with stapled gift bags. They’re used to it. Besides, it’s a whole heck of a lot easier.”

“Really?”

“Look, I can’t wrap fancy little packages.”

“I can. Let me rewrap them.”

“Tink, they’re good. The kids will be fine with them the way they are. It’ll only take them thirty seconds max per package to tear them to shreds anyway.”

“I don’t care. When they’re under the tree, they should look nice.”

“Oh, for—”

“No, let me do this for them. Please. I’ll run into town for some paper.” Reaching for her purse, she stopped. “Is Sadler’s still open, do you think?”

“Forget it.” He handed her one of the wines, then held up a hand, ticking off items. “First, you’re not driving into town in the dark. Second, there’s no good reason this even needs to be done. Third, if you insist, I’ve got plenty of wrapping paper already. Mom keeps toting it in here by the truckload. Every year when Christmas rolls around, she shows up at the door with a semi full of wrapping crap. I’ve got years’ worth of it stored in bins.”

“Good. Then let’s get it out and do this. You can help.”

He grimaced.

“It’ll be fun, Ty.”

“Yeah, I bet. Can I opt for lighted matches under my nails instead?”

“Hah, hah.”

Surprisingly, with Sophie’s help, it did turn into fun. And if she was a bit picky and a tad too careful, well, he chalked it up to her artistic bent.

When they finally tied the last bow, he studied the mound of now beautifully wrapped packages.

“They look a whole lot better, don’t they?”

“Don’t get cocky,” he warned.

“Come on. Admit it.”

“Okay, they look better.”

“How much better?”

“A whole lot better.” Reaching out, he snagged her around the waist. “I can think of one package I’d like to unwrap. Right now.”

“Really?” She grinned. “And which one would that be?”

He buried his face in her neck. “The one I’ve got here in my arms. Let’s go to bed, darlin’.”

“The kids—”

“Are asleep.”

At the kitchen sink, Sophie stared out the window at the Texas landscape. Not her norm, but not bad, either. Just different. Very different.

She’d caved and stayed with Ty all night…and slept like a log. She stretched her arms above her head, arching her back. She felt good. Better than good.

With both the cat and pup at her heels, Sophie carried her tea and laptop into the living room, facing the stables.

Despite her better judgment, she’d let Ty talk her into staying here one more day. He’d left for the barn after the two of them had managed to hustle the boys out the door and off to their day care. Afterward, she’d finished up the breakfast dishes, then spent a couple hours fussing around with some of yesterday’s designs, tweaking them, and changing font or color.

Now, tired and restless, she yawned and stretched again. Maybe she’d do a little extra Christmas decorating. It would be fun to surprise the kids. Ty’s mother had called earlier to chat and had given her a few ideas. With a plan in mind, she headed upstairs.

She loved attics.

A door opened downstairs, and she looked out the small window, surprised to find the sun much lower in the sky.

“Tink, where are you?” Ty’s voice floated up from the first floor.

“In the attic.”

“In the attic? What are you doing up there?”

She heard him coming up the stairs to the second floor. When he stopped at the landing, she stuck her head out of the attic opening. He looked tired. Probably was. Neither of them had slept much last night.

Who knew bedtime could be so much fun? Warmth flooded her.

“I’m snooping. Your mom said you had lots more ornaments and decorations stored up here. So I thought I’d take a look. See if there was anything you might want to use. Come take a peek at what I found.”

“Don’t need to. I know what you found. Put them away.”

“What?”

“I said put the box away, Sophie.”

“But, Ty.” She held up a hand-blown-glass ornament. “Isn’t this absolutely incredible?”

“We’re not using any of those. Come on downstairs, and I’ll start dinner.”

“You don’t have to worry about dinner tonight. I have a casserole ready to stick in the oven.” She took time to really study his face, but she couldn’t quite make out what she was seeing there. “What’s wrong?”

“Those are Julia’s ornaments, Sophie. Leave them be.”

She felt suddenly light-headed. “I see.”

“No, you don’t.”

Carefully, she replaced the ornament and put the lid back on the box. Only then did she let her eyes meet his.

“Tell me about her, Ty.”

“Sophie, this isn’t the time.”

“It doesn’t ever seem to be, does it?”

“You really want to hear about Julia now. How she left me?”

“She didn’t leave,” Sophie said quietly. “She died. It wasn’t her choice.”

“Like hell it wasn’t.” His jaw muscles tightened. “She lied to me. To everyone. Made a decision that left me devastated. That destroyed her parents.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. How could you?”

“So tell me.”

Lips white, he shook his head. “Not now.”

“You won’t let me in, will you? You’ll take me to bed, let me move into your home—” She didn’t miss the panicked expression that flickered across his face. “Temporarily, Ty. And if you remember, I didn’t want to come. But that’s all beside the point. The real point is you won’t share what’s going on here.” She tapped a finger on the side of her head. “Or here.” She thumped a fist over her heart.

“Let it be, Sophie. I’m tired. It’s been a long, hard day.”

“You’re angry, Ty. I catch flashes of it every now and then. It’s eating you up. If you don’t confront whatever it is, you won’t ever move on.”

“I have,” he bit out.

She tipped her head, focused on him at the base of the folding attic stairs. “Have you lied to me before this?”

“Excuse me?” His voice had gone glacial.

“Ooh. There’s that anger. At least it’s real.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“So much of your life is spent hiding behind an emotional wall.” Kneeling, she rested her hands on her thighs. “You’re lying—to me and to yourself. None of this is behind you. You won’t let it be.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine.” She wiped the dust off her hands onto the legs of her jeans and shoved the box beneath the shelving unit where she’d found it.

Sophie climbed down the narrow attic stairs and walked past him. He put out a hand and grabbed her arm. She shook it off.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” she said.

In the kitchen, she turned on the oven and slid in the casserole. Ty hadn’t come down yet, and she found herself relieved. Back on the second floor, she heard his shower running. Sneaking into the guest room, she closed the door behind her, pulled her overnighter from the closet, and stuffed in the few clothes and toiletries she’d brought with her.

A tear dripped off her chin. Wanting nothing more now than to get away before Haley dropped the boys off from preschool, before Ty came down, she hurried downstairs.

Time for her to leave. Past time. She’d stayed too long. Left them all vulnerable, herself included. This was exactly what she’d hoped to avoid.

She crept to the tree in the living room and stacked her presents for the boys under a back branch, glad she’d thought to bring them with her. She’d miss seeing their faces when they opened the gifts she’d chosen for them, but it couldn’t be helped. She added the rag doll she’d bought for Trouble to chew on, then leaned Ty’s gift against the wall.

She’d painted a small watercolor of him and the boys asleep on the couch, all tumbled together and rumpled. Trouble, also on the sofa, had a paw on Josh’s arm. She’d matted and framed it.

Maybe they’d look at it and think of her every once in a while. Would Ty notice the tiny fairy she’d perched on Trouble’s floppy ear? She sniffed and tried to hold back the tears, but they came in a blinding flood. Thank God her car was here. She put an unhappy Lilybelle in her carrier, picked up her bag and purse, and softly closed the door behind her. Hands shaking, it took several tries before she finally managed to get the key in the ignition.

On the way to her apartment, the cat howling nonstop, she called the airlines. Since tomorrow was Christmas Eve, things were pretty well booked up. However, a redeye, with one empty seat, left tonight for Chicago.

She and Lilybelle would be on it.

Ty dried off and grabbed clean jeans and a tee from the closet. Reluctantly, he climbed the attic stairs. Hunkered down on the dusty floor, he looked across the room. An old mirror leaned against the wall, and he didn’t like what he saw reflected there.