“Where’s Asher?”
“I dropped him at the shop. I wanted to come see you and ease your mind about me seeing Mickey.” To add insult to injury Ty pats my head like I’m a fucking child and I shove him.
“Careful, Terecino, you’re getting a little too cocky.”
The way his dark eyes light up and his lips turn up in a bright grin makes my whole being feel better. Like I can finally set some of this weight down because I know he’s here to help me carry it.
“I just like that fire you’ve got, baby. Come on, let’s go upstairs. I have an hour before I have to get back to the shop.”
“You have to work today?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t able to move some of the appointments and truthfully, I can’t take much more time off.”
I know that. I swallow down the guilt that’s starting to form in my chest and take his hand, threading our fingers together.
“Come on then.” Pulling him inside, he follows me up the stairs, smacking my ass the whole time. “Stop it!”
“I can’t help it, Rox. You’re wearing only my shirt and panties. I can see the curve of your ass and just a little fucking flash of your covered pussy. And you expect me to keep my hands to myself?” We make it to their slightly opened door andhe crowds my space once we get inside, shutting the door with his foot.
“I do expect you to keep your hands to yourself,” I say breathlessly, liking how his hands graze just underneath the hem of the shirt I’m wearing. “But I want to hear how it went first.”
Ty chuckles in my ear, pressing his chest to my back.
“But you look so good,” he whispers.
“I’ll still look this good in five minutes. Come on, Daddy, tell me.”
I can hear his sharp inhale at the name, and his slow, shaky exhale makes goosebumps break out over my arm and warmth bloom in my core.
“What do you want to know?” His voice drops and his hands drag down my arms slowly. So slowly that my entire focus is pulled to where his skin touches mine. “Focus, Roxie.” I can hear the smirk in his tone.
“Was he there?” I ask, my tone a mix between lost in the sensation of his skin on mine and fear that any thought or discussion of that asshole would make this little bubble burst.
I shouldn’t have been worried though. At the mention of “him”, Ty growls and his hands are no longer gentle, but biting into my skin possessively. He’s telling me with his hold that I’m his, totally and completely his.
“He was,” Ty’s words are clipped and short, but he steps into me even closer as if he’s trying to become my shadow.
“And?”
“And I wanted to beat him within an inch of his life, the fucking asshole,” he snarls, and one of his hands leaves me before he leans down and whispers, “Close your eyes.”
I close them and he moves around me. “Open them.”
When I open my eyes, I smile brightly.
My worn, torn, battered sketchbook rests in his hands.
“Oh my god,” I whisper brokenly, taking the book gently. “You got it.” Tears start to prick at my eyes because this book… It’s everything. It was my lifeline in that hell. “Is it…”
I almost don’t want to ask if he found the drawing. The only thing that really matters.
“It’s there. I made sure of it,” he says with a soft smile, opening the book and flipping through until he finds where the folded paper is tucked in between the pages.
“Oh my god,” I repeat, softer, more thankful than I think I’ve ever been.
“That’s not all,” Ty says with a smirk and pulls out a roll of bills.
“What’s that?”
