Undercover Heat (5 page)

Chapter Three

Carrie stood in the middle of the barn, assessing the project in front of her. The place had been under restoration for three months, and the only thing that had been done was the stall removal. That’s what she hated about hiring people to do things. They took their own sweet time, and it was never exactly as she wanted it. The place was now one big two thousand square foot empty space with a questionable foundation. It would be perfect for the five-star restaurant she had planned if the roof didn’t collapse on her first.

From her research, many of the world’s best bed and breakfasts had separate restaurants on the grounds for both the guests and people not staying on the property. The project was actually a secret gift for Lizzie. Carrie knew she missed the hustle and bustle of
New York
, and her job as banquet manager at the Waldorf Astoria. Not that Lizzie wouldn’t be busy with a newborn. But at this rate, the kid would be in college by the time the place was
anywhere near finished anyway.

She lifted her head toward the ceiling and squinted at the sections of exposed sky. Snowflakes floated between the ill-fastened shingles, right next to the fluorescent lights no less. She had a few do-it-yourself books on roofing, but electricity was something she left to the experts.

Doing a one-eighty, she studied the loft at the far end of the barn. In her mind she pictured the place as a private dining area, or at least a quieter one. The carpenter she’d consulted told her the wood was too rotted for anyone to go up there to check the integri
ty of the weight-bearing beams.

But she was curious.

The stairs to the loft were torn down so she dragged a ladder over. Fully extended the top rung was just high enough to reach. Tightening her boot laces for safety’s sake, she carefully scaled the steps to the top.

The dry bowed wood creaked under her leather soles. The area was larger than she pictured, but also in worse shape. The holes in the untreated planks indicated carpenter ants. If that were the case, the boards were probably hollow.

Maybe the professionals weren’t
always
wrong.

The floor shifted underneath her. She held her breath when she heard a crack, and a small cloud of dirt lifted in the air. In an effort to disperse her weight, she dropped to her knees, then lay flat on her stomach. Sliding along the floor, she made her way to the ladder.

“Carrie Ann, are you in here?”

The deep gravel voice was unmistakable. When she got to the ledge she peeked over. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her mouth was cotton dry, but she suspected that had less to do with her fear of falling to her death, and more about the gorgeous man twice that distance away.

“Ty?”

When he saw her, he cursed then jogged to the foot of the ladder. “Carrie Ann, what the hell are you doing up there?”

“Trying to get down.”

He scowled, adjusting the cap on his head. “Well the quicker the better, that wood looks rotted out.”

“It is.” A carpenter ant crawled over her glove. She left it, afraid the sudden movement of flicking it off would send her plummeting to the floor.

“I’ll hold the ladder
.
”

“Forget the ladder, I’ll jump.”

When she said the words, she almost laughed. A drop from this distance would break more than a few bones, but it would be worth it to prove a point. She could do anything without anyone’s help, although if her potential helper was anyone but Ty, this was one time sh
e would have made an exception.

“
T
here is no way in hell you can jump.”

“If you remember correctly, Jax Sinclair, you aren’t the only one who did his own stunts.”

Ty put his hands on his hips and smirked. “Well, I can’t think of an episode where a stunt coordinator would send you falling thirty feet onto concrete covered in ants.”

“What about the time in that episode where we were hiding in a deer stand?”

Ty cocked his head as if trying to remember. “That was about half the distance on a sound stage, and I’m pretty sure you landed on an air mattress.”

“Close enough.”

“Shut up. I’m coming after you.” He started up the ladder.

The last thing she needed was this jerk thinking he needed to save her. Taking a breath, she gritted her teeth, and with one fluid motion, she swung herself onto the ladder and quickly stepped down. “Happy now?”
s
he asked, wiping her hands together with pride.

His dimples deepened in his day-old stubble. “Yeah,
I’m happy.”

She flinched when he pulled something out of her hair, probably an ant. Who knows where else they had settled. “Why did you come here, Ty?”

“To bring you this.” He unscrewed the thermos and handed it to her. “Lizzie just made it.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She smelled the contents of the thermos. She was explicit in telling Lizzie she wanted it black, no sugar no milk. Coffee on its own was a diuretic, but everything else added calories. If she wanted to slim down, no extras. “What’s in here?” she asked, trying to pe
e
k inside. “I wanted black.”

“I don’t know.”

She felt his eyes sizing her up. He knew all her games, and she only looked stupid trying to hide them, but somehow it made her feel good to try.

“Carrie, its cold out here, and this wil
l warm you up.”

When she put the thermos to her mouth, she smelled the heavy cream. She pursed her lips damming the liquid, then pretended to swallow, making her t
hroat feign the outward motion.

“What were you doing up there anyway?” Ty walked underneath the loft, studying the beams. “This looks pretty unstable.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I want turn this place into a restaurant. I was curious about the space.”

“Ever think of hiring someone to do that for you?”

“Ever think I could do it mys
elf?”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll go up there tomorrow and check things out. I also noticed a few loose shingles on the north side. You’d be wise to fix those before the snow flies.”

His southern accent was back. The sweet, slow as molasses droll that in hushed tones could stir her as much as his touch. And she thought he’d lost it. “The snow’s already flying, Ty.”

“Which is why I’ll get started first thing in the morning.” He winked at her then stared up at the gaping hole in the ceiling. “It’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow. It should warm enough to melt the roof, even on the north side. I think I can do it in a day.”

She folded her arms. If this was his way of manipulating himself back into her good side, it wouldn’t work. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why not? You know I grew up on a farm. I did this kind of stuff all the time.”

“It’s not that.” The thought of his staying overnight in the farmhouse was too much. How many nights had she ached for his touch and hated herself for thinking about it in the first place. She’d hear his name on TV or see his picture in magazines and have to look away. He was her savior and enemy all in one, and if one could negate the other, he’d be nothing. But Ty was anything but nothing.

When he touched her cheek, she closed her eyes, his fingers burning her raw skin. “You really can’t stand to look at me can you?”

“Ty-”

“I mean really look at me. Like you used to.”

As if responding to a dare, she pushed her lids open. His azure eyes gazed down at her, and in that moment, she was brought back to the last time she allowed he
rself to linger there. When he c
arried her into the hospital in
Connecticut
and told her
he loved her for the last time.

Her eyes clamped shut. She held her breath until he pulled away, and she heard his retreating footsteps echo in her ears. “Where are you going?”

He pulled the car keys from his jeans pocket. “Back to the City. I’m sorry I bothere
d you. I’ll see you next week.”

“Wait.”

She came towards him in the doorway. Suddenly feeling hot, she pulled the wool hat from her head. “Look, I’m sure the roads were bad coming up here, and I don’t need Ty Hollister’s fan club blaming me for your demise.” She sighed, hoping she wouldn’t regret her decision. “Go get your t
hings and bring them upstairs.”

“You sure?”

She blew out a clouded breath. “No, but you’re staying anyway.”

He smirked. The Million Dollar
GQ
expression that could melt the coldest heart. “Thanks, Carrie.” He winked at her before d
isappearing into the white fog.

***

Ty thought it best to leave his things by the porch. There were twelve bedrooms upstairs, and he had no clue where Carrie planned on putting him. Besides he heard the water running in the shower, and he didn’t trust himself wandering around upstairs, knowing she was naked and wet. He’d take the time to search for something to eat instead.

He hadn’t eaten since lunch, and he wasn’t one who could sleep on an empty stomach. After wolfing down a few of Lizzie’s cookies, he looked through the cabinets and fridge. In his recollection, the only food ever brought into the place was when he had shopped. Toward the end, he noticed that he was the only one who actually ate it. But the stocked kitchen reminded him how things had changed.
He grabbed a can of soup from the pantry and dumped it in a pan on the stove. When he heard the shower turn off, he decided to add a second.

He found a stack of bologna in the fridge. He pulled it out and made a couple of sandwiches, on white for him and wheat for her. When she padded down the stairs, he spooned the soup into two bowls and took them to the kitchen table.

“
Tyler
, what do you think you’re doing?”

She came into the kitchen, clad in a thick, white terrycloth robe, better suited for a man his size than a tiny woman like herself. The sleeves draped over her hands, and the tie wrapped around twice. She looked like a child wearing grown-ups clothes, save for the small triangle of cleavage and the red strand of hair that st
uck in the moisture in between.

Searching for his voice, he stalled by licking the mustard off his thumb. “I was starving, so I thought I’d make myself something to eat. There’s a ton of food here by the way. I thought this place was closed for a few weeks.”

“It is. Lizzie’s been cooking non-stop. Casseroles, stews. She’s vacuum packed most of it for the guests.”

“Wow. What got into her?”

“I think she’s nesting. It’s a pregnant woman thing.”

He closed the refrigerator door. “I’ve heard that.”

She looked away, pulling the robe tighter around her. “I um, guess I’ll just head back upstairs.”

“How about a cookie?” He snagged a gingerbread man from the stove and took a healthy bite
.

“That’s okay. I’m not hungry.”

Her monotone voice told him she hadn’t even considered the offer. “Suit yourself. I just thought after all that work in the barn-
”

“Don’t act for me, Ty.”

He stopped chewing mid-bite. She caught him, and it surprised him that he was surprised. Carrie was a smart woman. She knew him better than he knew himself, and she always saw past any game or any line. It was some consolation that hadn’t changed.

“I know what you’re doing. And you don’t have to.”

He groaned, flipping the cookie back on the table. “Carrie, I was just making small talk.”

“I’m better, Ty. I have been for almost five years.”

He took a moment to study her, but there really wasn’t much to see with her swimming in the robe. She looked healthy enough, but he knew from experience that didn’t mean much. When she worked on “
Undercover Heat
” she followed a strict training regimen and carried a fair amount of muscle. She never looked like the classic anorexic, but he had learned the hard way that didn’t mean a damn thing. “I told you today that you look beautiful. I meant it.”

“Thank you. I suppose that’s a pretty big compliment.”

“Why?”

“I’ve seen the woman you hang around with. Tall, tanned blondes with huge silicon breasts. I’m surprised I’m even on your radar screen.”

A slap in the face would have hurt less. He held his hands up in resignation. “Fine, you win. You’re ri
ght. It’s none of my business.
”

He expected her to head back upstairs, but she surprised him by meeting him at the table. She pulled the chair out beside him, the legs scraping against the hardwood. When she ran her fingers through her wet hair, the sweet scent of lilacs tickled his nose.

“Ty, I’m not going to deny that I was sick back then, and I admit I depended on you probably too much. I’m sorry for my part in what happened, but it
’
s over and I’ve moved on. Just like you.”

Her clear blue eyes dulled, in a way he recognized all too well. She took the piece of cookie from the table, but only ate the crumbs that stuck to her fingers.