Tyke Designs had completed its work. The guys had agreed with Quay that it’d be best not to keep Tykira in the loop despite her many requests for information when she’d called in to the office. The construction crews, architects and interior designers were at peace with the final plans and she would only find new worries to interfere with her recuperation time. As the mechanical building and engineering of the train had already been underway, the group was looking for total completion within two months.
Holtz felt that the rail’s maiden run should be something special. They wanted the Ramsey clan on board along with everyone involved on the project. The Holtz Destiny, the name chosen for the train, would reside at the new Banff Tower in Canada. It was Holtz Enterprises’ plan to have all parties involved with the creation of the resort to be on hand to enjoy the resulting vision. Needless to say everyone was terribly excited and could hardly wait for the event to commence.
“How’s it goin’?” Quest asked when he’d pulled his brother aside following one of the morning meetings.
“One night and I’m about to lose it,” Quay confided, his deep voice muffled as he dragged a hand across his face. “I have to keep reminding myself that she’s off-limits.” He grunted and shook his head. “I have to remind myself all the damn time. I want her, Q. Boy, do I want her.” His eyes narrowed as visions of Ty lying naked in a tub of bubbles filled his mind. “But if her heart isn’t part of the deal…” He trailed away.
Quest didn’t hide his smile. “This is what I like to hear.”
Quay shook his head and allowed his brother to gloat.
“You think you can handle it?” Quest asked.
Quay’s expression was skeptical. “Last night was the first night any woman ever spent the night in my home and woke up the next morning without having been in my bed.”
“And it felt like hell?”
Shaking his head at his brother’s question, Quay grinned. “Not hell. Not heaven, either, but definitely not hell.”
“Damn, man, you’re growing up. I’m proud,” Quest teased, pulling his twin into a bear hug.
“Well, this is a treat,” Catrina Ramsey declared, while pulling her daughter-in-law close for a hug and kiss on the cheek.
Mick’s father-in-law Damon was next in line, bestowing his kiss to her cheek and forehead as he escorted her into the living room. “We were so happy to get your call,” he told her.
“I know how busy you both are,” Mick noted, squeezing her hands as she took a seat on one of the gold love seats in the living room.
“We’re never too busy for you, sweetie,” Catrina said.
Mick nodded. “Thanks, because this is something I couldn’t put off any longer.”
Damon and Catrina exchanged concerned glances.
“Sweetie is…everything all right between you and Quest?”
“Oh!” Mick started, realizing how confusing her words may’ve come across to her husband’s parents. “No, Catrina, no. No, everything’s fantastic between Quest and me. This is something else,” she said, her amber stare clouding again. “It’s something that’s not very pleasant, I’m afraid.”
Damon and Catrina were silent.
“Sera Black,” Mick said, noticing the immediate change in the couple’s expression.
“Are there any new leads?” Damon asked after clearing his throat.
Mick told her in-laws everything, holding nothing back. She saved the announcement of the newly discovered evidence for last. When she told them how it’d been uncovered, Damon and Catrina were clearly stunned.
“Obviously someone wanted that evidence out of the picture. I guess they—whoever they are—never intended on Raymond Patillo having a crisis of conscience on his deathbed,” Mick said.
“And you want to know if we were responsible for the evidence being misplaced? If we paid someone off in hopes of protecting our sons in the event one of them—or both of them—were guilty?” Catrina asked, her lovely dark face a picture of calm.
“I’m so sorry to come to you both with this,” Mick apologized, fiddling with the leather ties on her denim jumper, “and I’m not accusing or standing in judgment of anything,” she rambled. “But I have to know. If it helps, I can understand why this was done. I’m not a mother, but I know I’d do anything to protect my child….”
“Well, then, love, I’d say you’ve already learned the first and most important thing about parenting,” Catrina commended, reaching out to pat Mick’s knee. “But, honey, we didn’t do this,” she said, before her expression tightened. “I didn’t do this,” she clarified.
Mick and Catrina looked to Damon, who graced them both with a double-dimpled grin.
“Love, I’d be the first to admit that I’d do anything—anything to protect my boys,” he addressed Michaela. “I’ve already protected them to a great extent.” He shrugged. “Perhaps it was wrong, but a parent’s love can be a powerful and sometimes misguided thing. Unfortunately, it never occurred to me to do this. When they told me they weren’t responsible for that child’s death, I believed them.”
“Even though Quay was drunk, passed out and couldn’t remember a thing?” Mick probed.
“Even then,” Damon admitted, with a solemn nod. “Guess that makes us a couple of saps, huh?”
Mick smiled. “No, just a couple of loving and trusting parents.”
Catrina elbowed her husband’s arm. “Uh, baby, isn’t that loving and trusting stuff equal to saps?”
The threesome burst into laughter that greatly lightened the mood. Shortly, however, Damon’s expression darkened.
“Even though we weren’t responsible, I think it’s safe to conclude that this was done by someone in the family,” he stated. “Only a Ramsey would have had the means and the motivation to pull off a cover-up like this.”
“Who?” Mick wanted to know, her eyes narrowed in confusion. “Who else would have reason to? After all, this hidden evidence, whatever it proves, would’ve protected Quest and Quay. That’s your job.”
Catrina and Damon exchanged glances over their daughter-in-law’s naiveté.
“Sweetie, in such a large family it’s natural to protect one’s own,” Catrina said. “What affects one, affects all.”
“You’re right,” Mick sighed, realizing the woman’s point. “I still wonder who, though.”
Damon leaned back against the sofa he shared with his wife. “I got a good idea,” he said.
“How are you?” Quay asked when he knocked upon Tykira’s bedroom door that evening.
“Bored,” Ty snapped, without looking his way.
“Nothin’ on the tube?” Quay asked.
Ty shrugged, smoothing her hands across the arms of the thermal knit top of her pj set. “I really wouldn’t know. This is only my first movie.”
“Is that right?” Quay drawled, taking a few steps into the room. “Because I know you watched the soaps earlier today, so I’m pretty sure you’ve gone over your TV limit.”
“Quay!” Ty whined, balling her fists on the bed. “I’m about bored out of my mind. What else do you expect me to do? I begged you to take me with you to the office this morning, if you recall.”
“Yeah, I recall,” Quay admitted, his expression tensing as he tried not to envision the sultry scene that followed her request. “You hungry?” he asked, noticing Ty watching him.
She softened a little. “I told the nurse I’d wait for you.”
“How’s pizza sound?” he asked, pulling both hands from his trouser pockets when she nodded. “I’ll go place the order. Be right back,” he said, watching her snuggle down in bed before he headed out of the room.
Out in the hallway, he prayed for more strength to keep his hands off her. He dutifully placed the order, took a quick shower and changed clothes, hoping the food would be there by the time he was done. Just chatting with Ty could be dangerous. He was beginning to care less and less about the cast she sported.
Ty clapped when Quay returned to the room carrying a large square box, paper plates, napkins and a six-pack of soda. He set it to the night table while she made room for him on the bed.
“I’ll just eat over here,” Quay offered, motioning toward the easy chair across the room.
Ty’s brows drew close. “But you won’t be able to see the movie from over there,” she complained.
Not wanting to call more attention to his uneasiness, Quay didn’t argue. He prepared two plates filled with three slices of the sinful, cheesy vegetarian pizza for himself and Ty, topped off by two cans of sparkling 7UP.
“What is this?” he asked, referring to the movie about to begin.
“I hope you won’t be too bored. It’s a mystery-movie marathon. Tonight they’re featuring Agatha Christie.”
“I hope they start with a Poirot,” Quay was saying as he bit into a gooey slice of the pie.
Ty watched him with an incredulous gaze. “What do you know about Poirot?”
Quay leaned against the pillow-lined headboard and smirked. “You’re surprised?”
“Quite,” Ty admitted with a shrug. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a mystery lover.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” she sighed, taking a swig of 7UP. “You don’t seem the kind to sit down to read a book, much less sit still for a two-, two-and-a-half-hour movie. Especially one that requires paying attention to more than foul language, sex or a series of explosions.”
“Damn, Tyke, is that what you think of me?”
“Hmph.” Ty gestured, helping herself to another bite of pizza. “It’s the way you’ve always been,” she cited, having no regard for the stunned expression he wore. “Fast paced, wild, testosterone driven, that’s Quaysar Ramsey.”
When Quay chuckled and shook his head, Ty’s brows rose inquisitively.
“You’re surprised?” she queried. “I’m sure I’m not the only woman who has that perception of you,” she said, eating heartily as she spoke. “You’re fun and incredible to be with—but only for a time. You’re not exactly a ‘long haul’ kind of guy.”
Quay didn’t know why the description bothered him, but it did. Especially when it was Ty who held that perception.
“Tyke—”
“Shh, shh…it’s starting,” she ordered, then patted his arm. “Looks like you’ll get your wish to see Poirot. They’re showing Murder On The Orient Express,” she announced.
Quay settled back and tried to focus on dinner and the movie. Unfortunately, he found that spending an innocent evening next to the leggy dark goddess was murder on every part of his body. He wanted her every way he could take her. But, of course, she’d be expecting that—just that and nothing more meaningful.
After all, he wasn’t a “long haul” type of guy.
A tiny furrow formed at Michaela’s brow as she turned onto her back. She moaned softly, feeling herself being caressed by the sweetest touch. She arched upward upon feeling her nipples being suckled and then bathed with lingering strokes. Unfortunately, the feeling that truly caused the furrow in her brow was a subtle roiling in her tummy. The discomfort grew more unbearable even as the sweet caress continued.
“Mick?” Quest called, pulling away just slightly when he felt her struggling against him.
Mick writhed amidst the covers only a few seconds more before she woke. Then, she was bolting from the bed with one hand clamped over her mouth. Quest rested on his elbow, frowning, as he watched his wife race to the bathroom. Slowly, he left the bed and followed her.
Leaning against the doorjamb, Quest folded his arms across his bare chest and watched Mick heaving and vomiting into the toilet. The episode lasted at least three minutes.
“Something you ate?” he asked when she was done.
“I—” a totally unladylike burp interrupted her “—I don’t think so,” she said, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the toilet as she closed her eyes.
Quest pulled a phone from its cradle on the marble countertop. He pressed the button that speed-dialed the family doctor.
When Mick realized who he was speaking with, she waved her hand to get his attention. “Quest, no!” she hissed.
“Just a minute, Doc,” Quest said, and then holding his hand across the mouthpiece, he fixed his wife with a firm look. “Hush,” he ordered.
“When was your last period, Michaela?” Doctor Lucas Sims asked.
Mick blinked and then flashed a quick glance toward her husband. “I don’t…I don’t remember,” she admitted, crossing one sneaker-shod foot over the other while wringing her hands in her lap. “But, it’s usually irregular,” she saw fit to share, “especially when I’m stressed or under the pressure of a deadline.”
“Is that the situation now?” Dr. Sims inquired.
Mick shook her head, and then rolled her eyes toward Quest when he cleared his throat. “Not exactly, but I am working on a case. It’s been pretty demanding.”
“I see,” Dr. Sims replied, and only made brief responses as Mick spoke.
The doctor reached into his bag and Mick and Quest watched as though he were about to extract a magic antidote. When Dr. Sims produced a home pregnancy test, Mick backed away as though it were a poisonous snake.
“Doc? What is this?” Even Quest sounded a bit unnerved as he spoke.
Dr. Sims only waved his hand. “I only want to cancel out the obvious first. Michaela, humor me,” he requested, holding the box in her direction.
Quest was right on his wife’s heels as she shuffled to the bathroom.
“Quest, what if—”
“Shh…let’s just get the test out of the way first,” he suggested, even though he was just as rattled as she.
In the bathroom, Mick handled her business and finished up while Quest took the test and placed it on the counter. The only sound in the room was the click of the second hand from the wall clock and Quest’s wristwatch, not to mention the methodic tapping of Mick’s foot as she sat on the toilet cover. She was seconds away from voicing her impatience when she saw Quest reach for the test box. He read the back and then looked at the test lying on the counter. Then, it appeared as though his legs were about to give and he braced his hands around the rim of the sink.
“What?” Mick called in a frantic whisper. Both her feet were tapping as she practically bounced on the porcelain toilet cover.
In response, Quest turned and flashed his wife a brilliant smile.
Quay and Ty had already spent three weeks together. It was at times tense and uncertain—and at other times easy and quiet. Through it all, Quay’s emotions strengthened and solidified. The problem? He still couldn’t verbally admit to wanting a meaningful relationship with Ty, and it was like a knife through his heart every time he looked at her. He’d never given a damn about whether a woman thought he was the relationship type or not. If he wanted a bed warmer—and that’s all he’d ever wanted—he had one. Now, though, he wanted more, and it was becoming painfully clear that his “want” would not be fulfilled.
Music touched his ears the moment he left the foyer. He followed the lilting sounds of the violin concerto drifting from the speakers. He found her snuggled on what had become her favorite lounge. Quay’s black eyes narrowed as he watched her on the cushioned chair, her fingers toying in locks of her lengthy hair, her toes wiggling where they appeared at the opening of the cast.
Tykira gave a start when she heard him clear his throat. She looked up and greeted him with a lazy wave.
“You and that chair are becoming inseparable,” he noted softly while stepping into the living room.
“Mmm, yeah, I’ll miss it when I’m gone,” she said.
Quay winced, his hand flexing into a fist. His expression turned fierce at the mere mention of her leaving.
“Bad day?” Ty asked, noticing the look upon his darkly handsome face.
“It’s not that,” he sighed, managing to conceal his mood. “Things are going pretty smooth, actually.”
Ty sat up a bit on the lounge. “That’s what I’ve heard. The guys have sort of been keeping me in the loop,” she shared, smoothing both hands across her arms, bared by the thin straps of her black tank top.
“What’s that tone for?” he asked, watching her roll her eyes.
“I get the feeling they’re trying not to make me feel left out and pitiful because I’m stuck at home with a broken ankle. I got a call from Louie Danoue earlier and he even sounded like he felt sorry for me.”
Quay’s grin revealed his right dimple and he shrugged. “Come on, Tyke, they’re just tryin’to look out for ya.”
“Well I guess I’m just not used to that.”
Eyes narrowed, he found her words strange. After all, he’d been protecting her for over fifteen years, hadn’t he? The question lodged in his mind and caused him to ponder it for a moment. Maybe he hadn’t been protecting Tykira at all. With that loaded possibility in mind, he went to fix himself a drink at the pine wall bar and then went to join her on the edge of the lounge.
“Having a man look out for you can’t be that extraordinary, can it?” he asked, bracing elbows to his knees, while cradling his glass in both hands.
Ty leaned her head back. “Pretty much,” she told him.
“Bull.”
“Why?”
“Ty, look at you.”
She followed orders and did just that, looking down at her black tank top and comfy white cotton sweats. Then, she shrugged and fixed him with a bewildered look. “What?” she asked.
Quay grimaced; he was that perturbed by her confusion. “Woman, do you ever look in the mirror? A man would do almost anything to have you on his arm. Hell, I swore off tall women when I lost you. You were that deep in my system.”
Ty blinked, her cool expression turning to something more inquiring. “When you lost me?” she probed, her gaze faltering when Quay set down his glass.
“Yeah, when I lost you,” he confirmed, turning to face her fully on the lounge.
She was silent for several moments as though debating on whether to speak her mind. “Quay, in losing me, you would’ve just been making a mistake. You let me go and that was a choice.”
“By choice or mistake, I was an idiot for letting it happen.”
Bracing her hands on the arms of the lounge, Ty angled her legs over the side. “I’m heading up,” she decided.
Quay looked on helplessly as she stood and prepared to hobble out of the room on her crutches.
“I love you. I always have,” he said, watching her stop in midstride. “I know you don’t believe me, but I have no intentions of stopping.”
“Dammit, Quay, you don’t know what you’re saying,” she whispered, turning to face him.
“Why can’t I say it when you feel the same?” he challenged.
“And what good did it do for me to love you, Quay?” she countered, her sparkling brown eyes appearing more brilliant from unshed tears. “You say you’ve always loved me. Do you realize how hard it is for me to believe you felt that way back then? To not be scared out of my mind that…”
“What?” Quay urged, stepping closer to her. He stopped when she backed away.
“I’m going home tomorrow. I won’t be here when you get back from work,” she announced, already turning away.
Quay commanded himself not to stop her. He’d taken a huge step in telling her how he felt. He watched her until she was gone from view and prayed for the strength he would surely need to make her believe in him.
For both their sakes….