Always Enough (Meet Me in Montana #2) - Kelly Elliott Page 0,27
Are you sure about that?”
“Yes. He said he hasn’t even talked to Ty since earlier this morning.”
I raised a brow and looked at Ty, who was currently putting the wood on the little iron wood rack I had bought in one of the cute little stores in downtown Hamilton. Ty had bitched and moaned the entire time he was in the store with me, because we had been sent there originally to find a cute birthday present for his mother. A task I had willingly agreed to help him with until I realized Ty was not a fun shopper. At all.
“Okay.”
“Okay? Is that all you’re going to say?”
“Yep.”
“He’s right there, isn’t he?”
“Yep.”
“Well, isn’t this interesting.”
“Yep.”
“Make sure he gets you all settled before he leaves. I’ll be over in the morning when the snow clears.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
I hit end and studied Ty as he piled up the wood. He had taken off his jacket and was in a long-sleeved black T-shirt that showed every muscle in his arms and back as he stacked the wood. Each time he leaned over, I got an ass shot. I bit my lip and looked away.
Why, dear God above, could Channing not make me feel this way? Why did you have to make my body desire this man? Why!
“Why, what?” Ty asked, making me glance his way.
“Huh?”
“You said, ‘Why?’”
“Oh . . . I, um . . . I mean, why did I have to fall? It’s a terrible time to get hurt. I was going to help Mrs. Kennedy plan her daughter’s baby shower.”
He grinned. “Ever since you planned Lincoln’s wedding, you’ve become sort of the hot party planner in Hamilton.”
I laughed, but I stopped when it made my tailbone ache. “Well, I don’t do it often, but when I do, it’s a lot of fun.”
“Have you ever thought about opening up your own event-planning business?”
I just stared at him. When I once mentioned the same thing to my parents, they both had the same negative reaction—that I wouldn’t be able to run my own business.
It never occurred to them that I actually did own a business, my editing business. I worked on some of today’s hottest-selling romance and historical writers’ manuscripts, yet, in their eyes, they had paid for me to go to college to read books all day. In my father’s voice, I heard, “What a waste of a college education with a degree in journalism. Why you couldn’t get a business degree is beyond me.”
Looking down at my phone, I shook my head. “I don’t know. It’s really just for fun.”
Ty went back to the wood, but this time he was building a fire in the fireplace. “You should really think about it, Kaylee. You’ve got the eye for it. I mean, look at Brock and Lincoln’s wedding: it was beautiful, and everything went smoothly.”
I felt my cheeks heat. “Are you actually giving me a compliment, Ty Shaw? I figured you would have some smartass remark about me being better suited to planning funerals and such.”
He chuckled as he lit the fire starters. “That would have been a good one—too bad I didn’t think of it first.”
I rolled my eyes and tried not to smile.
Soon a large fire was going, and I could feel the warmth. It balanced out the cold ice pack on my lower back and tailbone and helped take my mind off the pain I was still in.
Ty stood and dusted off his hands as he looked at me. “Do you want me to make you anything to eat? Some soup or something?”
“Soup?”
“Yeah, do you have any?”
I shook my head. “I don’t.”
“Okay, well, do you have any veggies? Some broth?”
The way he was behaving was throwing me for a loop. “Ty, why are you doing this?” I asked, looking at him and trying to read every emotion that passed over his face. The damn man was good at hiding his feelings. Very good. I was also very intrigued about why he’d said he was sent here instead of fessing up that he had come over on his own.
“Why am I doing what?”
“Being so nice to me?”
He laughed. “As much as you want to think I don’t like you, Kaylee, we are friends. I feel guilty that it was my fault you just got hurt.”
And there it was. He felt guilty because he thought I’d fallen because of him.
I sighed. “It’s not your fault, and you don’t have to stay. I think I can get up now.”