Slow Burn (The Blake Boys Book 7) (7 page)

“How old was he?”

“Seventy nine, bless his heart.”

“Oh. Was your mom younger than him?” Tyler asked.

“No, she was seventy six when she passed away.”

“They waited late in life to have kids, eh?”

“No kids. Just me. My adoption was one of the things they had on their bucket list.” Michelle gripped her mug tighter.

“I didn’t know you were adopted.”

“It’s not something you bring up in casual conversation. But the thing is, I never felt like I was adopted. My parents made sure of it.”

“Do you know anything about your biological parents?”

“I don’t know if there’s any more to learn other than the obvious. They couldn’t take care of me for some reason. I don’t need to know anything else.”

“Not even remotely curious?” Tyler asked.

“I’ve seen psychologists since I was five. My parents were concerned about my mental health. They wanted to make sure their daughter grew up with a healthy sense of self. We loved each other, but people can be cruel to each other when they see situations they don’t understand. My mom once put her own best friend’s daughter out of our house because she called me Little Orphan Annie. My mom, Odessa, was a bit of a hell raiser in a really poised, civilized way. My dad felt so bad about what happened he bought me a horse. His name was Dutch.” She wiped tears away from her eyes.

“Come here.” Tyler pulled her into a full-fledged embrace and stroked her hair. They sat that way for a few minutes, as the sounds of the embers flickering filled the room. “Sounds like they loved you very much.”

“They did. I’ve never regretted a moment with Thomas and Odessa. Some woman found us, claiming to be my birth mother’s sister. They had a private investigator corroborate the story they were given and said if I wanted to meet this long lost aunt, I could. I declined. I wrote the woman a letter and said thanks for the effort but unless she had a time machine, nothing good would come from meeting her. I had a great childhood, an excellent education, and I can play a mean game of cricket.”

Cricket? A horse named Dutch? He’d never really thought about where she’d grown up, but he’d been around enough rich, snobbish people to know highfalutin words when he heard them.

“Michelle, are you rich?” He raised an eyebrow.

“My parents were kind of loaded.” Michelle laughed. “I was left a sizeable trust fund that I can’t touch until I’m forty. My parents wanted to make sure I had an identity and a good work ethic of my own that didn’t include money.”

Tyler didn’t say anything for a few minutes.

“Tyler, what’s wrong with you? This can’t possibly be a problem. Your family is wealthy.” She ribbed him with her elbow.

“It’s just surprising. You work at the bookstore and live in an apartment.”

“So? You live with your parents.” She huffed. “Your mother still cuts your meat for you.”

“Does Morgan know about this?” He knew how Morgan felt about the snooty rich folk who lived in Ashcroft.

“Yes she does. She was the first person in my life who didn’t care about how much money I had. She gave me the job and we became friends. When she was having financial troubles at the bookstore she declined any help and said she didn’t want me manipulating any pots of gold for her. And that made me love her even more.”

“Isn’t it amazing how so much love can come out of such a small person?” Tyler laughed.

“Yes, it is. But back to you. Why do you think I can’t be happy working in a bookstore and living in an apartment?” Michelle took a sip of her hot chocolate.

“I guess I’m wondering what you see in me. Compared to the rest of the family, I always feel like the odd man out.”

“I see the guy who stayed up talking with me all night when Jake was born about how excited he was to have a new member in the family. I see the guy who sends me text messages of fashion accessories you think I’d like because you think I have a great sense of style. I see the guy who wakes up his nephews and has cereal with them while their parents are asleep.”

“Don’t forget how incredibly handsome I am.” Tyler wiped away some whipped cream from her lip with his thumb then licked it off.

“There’s that too.”

Michelle didn’t move when Tyler leaned in for a hungry kiss. He went for it; there was no hesitation when he moved her mug out of the way and pulled her down with him on the rug. Those strong hands made their way down her sides while he parted her legs with a knee and moved on top of her. The cozy fire was nothing compared to the heat coming from his body.

She tugged at the buttons on his tight fitting plaid shirt and ran her hands over his firm pecs and abs. He was simply gorgeous. Every inch of his body was chiseled perfection. She dreamed about their time together at the ranch often, the intensity he displayed with his lovemaking was remarkable.

She froze. “Wait. I want answers.”

“You keep doing that and I won’t be able to tell you my name,” he groaned.

Tyler slid her leggings down over her hips and she kicked them off. “I mean it. I want some answers.”

His calloused hand slipped beneath her satin panties and began caressing her clit. She opened her leg a bit to give him better access, and he immediately slid two large fingers inside of her. The slow movements of his hands felt so good, she ignored the cold steel of the chain attached to his wrist.

The firm, possessive bites on her neck brought her back to reality. If she wanted to make any progress with the man, she had to put a stop to the seduction right now.

Well maybe after the raging climax that welling up inside her was sated.

Michelle’s breaths came quicker as Tyler continued his movements, running his thumb over her quickly but with such a feathery light touch. She writhed as she came closer to the edge. He continued kissing down to her stomach until he reached her clit and replaced his hand with his tongue. She locked her thighs around his head half scared she would smother him but more sure she’d die if he didn’t get closer. As he sucked and laved her juices, she clutched the faux bear skin rug for dear life. When he did a counter clockwise move with his tongue, she couldn’t stand it anymore and let go. Tyler continued kissing her as her body continued to twitch minutes after.

“I knew there was a reason I loved your big mouth.” Michelle sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I aim to please.” Tyler kissed her thighs.

“Well it’s been a long night. Time to get some sleep.” She moved out of the way, picked up the tray of mugs and scooted into the kitchen with what little energy she had.

“That’s it?” Tyler asked. “I thought you wanted some kind of answers.”

“They can wait.” She gathered up her clothes and headed to bed.

* * *

Tyler didn’t mind pleasuring her. He’d been dreaming about the feel of her skin against his for months. What he did object to was lying on the couch tuned up like a car on racing blocks. She could have had the decency to at least hit him with an actual mallet over the head before sashaying her way to bed. But he suspected the titillation was part of the kidnapping revenge scenario. He laughed at how little women knew about men. He didn’t need to be within a breath of her to know what he was missing. She could have picked up her cell phone a few times and tortured him just as efficiently.

From the look in her eyes after the intimate moment they’d just shared, getting some sort of definition to their relationship was more important to her than the toe curling sex they could definitely be having right now. But he wasn’t ready for what she was asking with her eyes.

Michelle was different. She was beautiful and she knew it, but she didn’t try to flaunt it. She was pleasant to talk to and was sharp as a tack. She was opinionated and like him, said the most awkward things at the most unexpected moments.

Truth was, he didn’t know what to do with a woman like her.

Each Blake man had taken a different tack, but the result was that they each had found the woman of their dreams. All his father had to do was give his mother a kiss on the hand and she floated around the house for the rest of the day. His father wasn’t overly romantic but when he did come home with flowers or surprised her with a trinket, it made her day. The money they had was nothing compared to the little things that made their connection strong. Seth, Tate and J.J. were still driven men, but there was a look of contentment on their faces when they were with the woman they loved that was more enviable than anything they’d ever achieved. The countdown to Seth’s retirement from football was on. He’d asked Seth what had motivated him to do it, and Seth had replied that loving Morgan and raising kids with her was a far greater feeling than fame and attention from adoring fans. Tate seemed more comfortable in his own skin now that he was with Isabelle. He’d found someone who knew the real him and loved him more for acknowledging the scars from childhood that he’d tried to hide from himself. J.J. had rid himself of years of misery with Eden, only to find Sam soon after. He said that Sam had strength in her that he admired and respected but it was the gentle way she handled his heart that made him fall in love with her.

Perhaps all of the love surrounding him was making him think he desired something he didn’t really want. If that was the case, he’d never forgive himself if he strung Michelle along and broke her heart. But he had to admit he nearly had a coronary when she told him about that guy Finn. And a second one when Seth had told him about Derek Popovich.

Was his immature thinking fair? No, but that was all he had to go on right now. Rome wasn’t built in day, but this night with the erection from hell was bound to last a lifetime.

Chapter Five

Michelle had been trying for an hour to decide what to wear, but that wasn’t the reason for her lack of energy. Being with Tyler last night had been phenomenal, and it was all she could do not to barricade herself in the bedroom. For months she’d been dreaming about him—she was tempted to give up the plan and take in the temporary pleasures he offered. But that was the problem. If she did that, nothing would change.

She was still mad at him but she wanted to cuddle in front of the fireplace with him too.

She entered the living room to find him awake. He’d tidied the space, was freshly shaven, and was looking at some racing footage on TV. So much for the hopeful picture of disheveled hair and drool in the corner of his mouth from wanting to be with her so badly last night.

“Good morning,” she said as she dug her hands into the pockets of her lavender sweater. She didn’t anticipate it being quite so cold in Colorado and wished she’d packed her clumpy but warm sweaters instead of the winter fashion show she’d been putting on the past few days.

“Good morning to you too. I would ask if you slept well but I already know the answer to that.” He smirked.

“You’d have to give a better performance than last night to get me into a desire-induced sex coma,” she bit back.

“I think I hit all the right spots. It’s ten o’clock and you’re just getting up.” He winked and pressed the up button on the remote volume so he couldn’t hear her comeback.

She rolled her eyes. “Jerk.”

“Would it be too much to ask for a coffee with no sedatives in it?”

“I’ll see what I can do. But I think I like you better asleep.” She threw a pillow at him and went into the kitchen.

Michelle put on the coffee maker and fired up her laptop. There were plenty of recipes she could demonstrate, but she wanted something colorful that popped on screen and illustrated her cooking skills. She could try a seafood stew or a lemon herb roasted chicken with sides but she also wanted something that showcased her funny side. Using a zucchini was a good prop for some food comedy, but she didn’t know what dish she could make with it. She always thought the word fusilli was hysterical, but there was no point rendering her incoherent while she giggled though her monologue.
Cooking Thai with Tyler
would have been a great title for a segment, but right now she just wanted to throw a red delicious apple at him and hit him square on the forehead. He was a little too relaxed and smart-assy for her today.

After leafing through twenty recipes, she whittled it down to a prospective ten. She took Tyler his coffee and he barely uttered a thank you. She checked her blog and found she’d gotten a few responses and started typing away. Tyler had the sound up pretty high, so she could tell the race had just barely started. Two hours later she’d not only responded to her followers and posted a new holiday cookie recipe, but she’d also narrowed her list of ten recipes down to five. She was going to try one of them for lunch.

Michelle heated some olive oil in a pan then started chopping some onions and garlic. That’s when she heard it. He must have fast forwarded through parts of the race because he was watching the infamous kiss on the podium. The nerve of him replaying it like it didn’t hurt her feelings!

She’d had enough of his childishness for one day. Michelle marched into the living room and lobbed an apple at his head, but he caught with his hand. Tyler lowered the volume.

“Thanks for the snack.” He furrowed his eyebrows and bit into the apple.

“We are having shrimp and tortellini Alfredo for lunch. I know how you like to eat so I brought you something to snack on.” She leaned against the doorframe.

“That’s one of my favorite meals.” He tore into the apple.

“I know. Your mother told me.”

“You’ve been talking to my Momma about cooking?”

“She’s coaching me on southern cuisine.”

“Really?” He scratched his temple.

“She explained that food is a soulful connection to loved ones. It was inspirational. I’d never really thought about it that way until she said it.” She looked down and cleared her throat.

“Is that what you’re hoping to do if you become a chef on this show? Make a soulful connection?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled.

“It helps to know why we’re driven to do things. It can give you an unbelievable clarity about life.”

“So racing is about more than going fast for you?” she asked.