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The phone honked at them again, and Ty bent to find it.

“What happened to your other one?”

“Relish. Long story.” Ty rummaged through the pockets of his jeans. He held up his cast. “Had to get a new cast, too. Everything got . . . I was covered in condiments.”

“Uh-huh.”

He’d have to spill that story soon, because Zane rarely let things like that go for long, but he didn’t offer to tell it right now. He sighed as he finally found his phone and looked at the display. It was a text message, one of the dozens he received every day. He shook his head and stood.

“It’s from Nick,” he said, knowing his old friend was a sore spot for Zane, and with good reason. But he was always honest with Zane whenever he spoke to Nick, even if it grated on the man. Hiding it would be a mistake, and Ty’s conscience wouldn’t condone it.

Zane wrinkled his nose but didn’t seem annoyed, which was a vast improvement from the way he’d initially felt about Nick. “What’s he say?”

Ty shrugged and looked down at the phone again. “He’s working a weird case. I asked him to text me every now and then to let me know he’s alive.” He read the text with a frown. “He says Canadians are scary.” He looked up at Zane. “I don’t know what that means.”

Zane pulled him closer and kissed him again before bending to gather their pile of clothes. “You deal with that, then. I’m going to go throw these in the wash. There’s a shower and a bed in the loft upstairs if you want to get some rest before dinner.”

He headed for the kitchen and what was presumably a washer and dryer near the back door.

“Will it be bad?” Ty called after him.

“So very bad.”

Chapter 4

Ty dozed on the couch, trying to recuperate from his trek to Texas, while Zane did whatever the hell it was Zane did when Ty wasn’t paying attention.

He was vaguely aware of his surroundings, not quite comfortable with the unfamiliar sounds just yet. The ceiling fan high above, the dryer whirring in the kitchen, Zane’s occasional footsteps on the creaking hardwood floors. A tiny, quiet breath.

Ty cracked open an eye.

Just inches from his nose was a pair of large Hershey brown eyes. They were accompanied by long dark lashes and ringlet curls that framed a cherub’s face. Said cherub was wearing a yellow sundress, red bows in her hair, and red shoes. She stared at him, her hands clasped behind her back as she turned her shoulders back and forth.

Ty looked at her for another moment, disconcerted. “Hi,” he said, voice still hoarse with sleep.

She gave him a frown that looked familiar. Zane’s niece was three or four, if Ty remembered correctly. “You’re a stranger.”

“You’re right.” Ty unfolded his arms where he’d had them wrapped around his chest and let his broken hand extend toward her. “I’m Ty. Are you Sadie?”

She nodded, still mistrustful.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m a princess.”

“Is that right?”

She stepped closer and leaned on him, pushing her sharp elbows against his chest. He gasped. She was so close that he almost had to go cross-eyed to look at her.

“I’m a princess and I got a pony.”

“Oh yeah?” Ty looked around the room, trying to find an adult who might be responsible for the little girl—aside from himself. There was no one. He looked back at Zane’s niece, bewildered by her sudden appearance. How long had he been asleep? “What color is your pony?”

A scowl appeared on her face. “It’s a pink pony.” She started twirling a curl around a finger.

“A pink pony? Are you sure?”

“I turned it pink with my wand.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Do you know how to ride a pony?”

“No. Do you know how to ride a pony?”

“I do!”

Ty looked toward the bank of windows and beyond at the deck, trying to find Zane. And there his partner stood, leaning on the banister and grinning at him through the window. Alongside Zane was a slim female of Zane-like origin, matching grin and all.

“Want to see?”

Ty returned his attention to Sadie. “Not really, no.” He dropped his voice to a confidential whisper. “I’m scared of ponies.”

Her eyes went wide. “Scared of ponies?”

“Very scared.”

“It’ll be okay, don’t be scared.” She petted his face, her sharp little fingers barely missing his eye. He couldn’t fend her off, so he just squeezed his eyes shut to protect them. Suddenly, she grabbed his face between two tiny hands and pulled until they were nose to nose. “Do you want to play with me?” she asked, her voice full of hope and her eyes wide.

“Sadie, remember we’re just here visiting,” the woman called out as she stepped through one of the open French doors. Ty recognized her voice: it was Zane’s sister, Annie. “Leave Ty alone and come give Uncle Z a hug. It’s time for us to go see Granddaddy.”

“But Mommy, Ty is going to play with me!”

“If you can convince him to play, then that’s just fine. After dinner.”

Sadie hugged Ty’s head closer. “But I want to play now!”

“Sadie.”

“I’m not a Sadie, I’m a princess!”

“Fine, you’re a princess,” Annie said as she came closer. “You’re Princess Doesn’t Listen. Hand out the hugs and let’s go.”

Sadie looked back at Ty, batting those long lashes at him. She put her hands together under her chin. “Please, will you play with me?”

“Oh Lord,” Ty laughed. “Sweetheart, I’ll do whatever you want me to after dinner.”

“Yay!” She jumped up and down, then lunged at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Ty gasped in surprise, and then she was gone, darting over to the deck doors to throw herself into Zane’s arms for a hasty embrace. He laughed as he picked her up, hugging her close even as she struggled to get down again.

Ty sat up and watched them, smiling faintly. He’d rarely seen Zane interact with a child, and Zane was always uncomfortable when he did. He didn’t appear to be now, though, and it was an odd feeling to watch him with the little girl.

Annie smiled and walked over to Ty, offering her hand. “Welcome to the C and G. It’s great to meet you in person.”

Ty stood to shake her hand. It was hard with just the tips of his fingers poking out of the plaster cast, and he kept forgetting to offer his left hand when he was surprised with a handshake. He felt like an idiot giving the weak finger shake, but what could he do?


Tags: Abigail Roux Cut & Run Thriller