Chapter 5

5

MAURA

T yler said he was okay in a suit, that he could pull it off.

Understatement of the century. An outright lie.

I have to pick my jaw off the floor when I see him slouched against a vintage white Ford Bronco. It's not my choice of ride, but what the hell, I'll go on a carriage if it means showing up with him at my party.

He's wearing a black suit jacket and dress pants, with a crisp white shirt underneath and black shoes. It doesn't quite hide the tattoos on his hands, but the overall effect, especially with his trademark man bun, is devastating to my femininity.

Something's off about the whole look, though, and when I get closer, I realize why.

"Where are your piercings?"

Tyler's eyes shine with amusement. "I thought I needed to clean up for your party, and I wanted to look presentable. I didn't want to stand out."

I scoff. "You will stand out regardless."

The moment I say it, I realize he's gonna throw every other guy in the shade once he enters a room—any room—and of course, there's the matter of girls who'll most likely hit on him. Elena and Kat received invites, and they liked to flirt with any man who came near me, including Martin. Martin entertained them, of course, which didn't bother me. But a heavy weight settles on my stomach when I think of them flirting with Tyler.

"You okay?" he asks, his fingers grazing my arm.

"Yeah. Let's go."

"Not yet." He smiles and takes out a small box from his pocket, opening it to reveal a gold necklace with at least a dozen round stones alternating with small diamonds. The design reminds me of fish bones, and I love it.

My hands go to the lock on my serpent diamond necklace. Without a second thought, I unclasp it and drop it into my purse.

"Happy birthday, little fairy," he murmurs, stepping behind me to clasp the necklace around my neck, his fingers brushing my collarbones and the sides of my neck. It shouldn't feel as good as it does.

"Thank you." I turn to face him, my hand touching the necklace almost reverently.

I don't know how it's possible, but Tyler has a sheepish look on him. "I know you're probably used to expensive diamonds the size of my fist, but Erika's girlfriend is a jeweler. She made this for you. The red and pink stones are spinel, which is one of your birthstones."

A lump of emotion lodges in my throat. No one has ever given that much thought to my gifts before. Yes, I get expensive items. But all of them pale in comparison to this. It's beautiful and worth more than all my jewelry collection combined.

"Thank you, Tyler. This is beautiful. I love it. Truly."

Tyler nods. "It's not much?—"

"I said I love it."

He probably sees the truth in my eyes because he smiles. "It belongs in a set, but Lanie can't rush them all. This is the only one she finished."

"I should've known."

"Know what?"

"That you like jewelry as much as I do. With your piercings and all." I give him the stink eye. "Don't take them off next time. I like those little blings."

"Little bl—" He bursts out laughing and wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me to him. "I don't want to mess up your makeup, so this will have to do for now." Tyler kisses my forehead, and butterflies flutter in my belly. Why do I find that so intimate? More intimate than the soul-sucking kiss we shared the other day at the park.

Without warning, he sweeps me into his arms and deposits me on the passenger seat of the Bronco. I yelp and smack his arm. "Tyler!"

"We don't want the birthday celebrant to be late."

After he slides into the driver's seat, I touch his arm. "Is this yours?"

"Yes. I'm not a fan of cars in general because they feel claustrophobic, but I take this out when the occasion calls for it." Tyler turns serious as he runs a knuckle along my cheek. "Is this okay for you? It's no limo."

"You really should give me more credit. I love Broncos. You haven't seen my car, but it's actually a truck."

"Really? I would have pegged you as a sports car kind of girl."

"You don't know me that well."

"Not yet, no. But I intend to know everything about you, little fairy. Every little thing."

Is it just me, or is there some kind of promise behind those words? Because honestly, there's only one birthday gift I want, and he's sitting right beside me.

If this night leads to where I hope it will, then it's going to be the best birthday ever.

"What's the weirdest thing you've ever tattooed on someone?" I ask Tyler while we sway to the music.

I admit I was a bit nervous introducing him to my parents, but aside from Dad's subtle eyebrow raise and Mom communicating to me with her eyes—she's going to pepper me with questions once we're alone, I'm sure—they've been doing their best to make Tyler comfortable.

I love them for that because while my parents have been grooming me to take over the real estate business since I was probably two, they understand that all the other aspects of my life are off-limits. The one with Martin? That's on me. Everyone fully expected us to get together, so I was like, "Why not?"

There was nothing really. No spark. No chemistry. Rarely any conversation between us, and if there was any, he was the one doing the talking.

Tyler is different. Things are happening too fast, but it feels right.

He thinks about my question. "A middle-aged woman came to the studio in the middle of the night, just as we were about to close shop. She wanted me to tattoo a gravestone of her ex-husband on her back. Like, her entire back."

"What's so weird about that? I mean, what if she still loved him?"

"He wasn't dead yet, Maura."

"Oh."

Tyler clenches his jaw and says in a rush, "I told Erika about us, and she said the likelihood of your parents coming between us is about one hundred percent."

I laugh and shake my head. "I don't think so."

"No? They're not concerned that you're with me?"

"What does that even mean, Tyler?"

"I mean, I'm a realist. I won't hold it against your father if he objects to you going out with me."

I toy with a loose thread on his shirt. "They never really try to control my love life, you know. That one with Martin. We've known each other since we were in diapers, and it was a given that we'd end up together. So that's what happened. Not because I'm attracted to him or something, but only because everyone expected us to."

"And now?"

"And now I'm living my life on my own terms." I sigh and run a hand along his hard chest, stopping just above his heart, the lub-dub sound calming me, grounding me. "I'm a career woman. Martin knew that, but when he proposed, he already told me I could quit my job and stay at home. If we get married, I'll resent him, get depressed, and drool over the gardener while I sip my fifth glass of wine for breakfast."

"So much to unpack in that one statement."

I laugh softly but immediately turn serious. "Are you worried about my family?"

"I do. I really, really like you, Maura. I can't stop touching you when we're together, and I can't stop thinking about you when we're not." Tyler pauses and clenches his razor-sharp jaw. "I hope I don't scare you, but I think I'm obsessed with you."

Obsessed.

That's the same word I would use to describe what I feel for him. And I get it. I get what he's trying to say because I feel it, too.

"Come home with me, Tyler. Make me remember this night forever."

Tyler's eyes darken, his gaze dropping to my mouth. My body lights up, and the need to have him inside me overrides any other thought. If he takes me here on the dance floor, I won't even say no. That's how desperate I am for him.

"Happy birthday, my love! Why the hell did you start without me?"

My thoughts blank as I hear Martin bellowing from the doors, his speech slurring. Tyler and I both swing our gazes at him, and my stomach drops.

No, no, no.

Martin is a mess. His tie is loose, his white shirt has a brown stain, and he's carrying a bottle of Jack Daniels, waving it around as he sways unsteadily on his feet. Behind him are familiar faces—four of his best friends from his college fraternity days.

He staggers toward me, knocking over a few chairs, forcing some of my guests to give him a wide berth and steer away.

He stops a few steps away from us, a glazed look in his eyes, flush on his cheeks. I've never seen Martin like this. He hates looking anything less than perfect in front of everyone. I feel bad, but not really.

Martin burps loudly and raises the glass. As he does so, Tyler moves his massive body in front of me, protectively draping one arm over me.

Even in his drunken state, Martin registers Tyler's movement. His eyes narrow as he flicks his piercing gaze from Tyler to me. The unflinching stare is intimidating the heck out of me, even if I did nothing wrong to him. I had every right to break up with him and turn down his marriage proposal. I refuse to be shamed for following my heart. It's my life, after all.

"What are you doing here dancing with my fiancée?" He doesn't give Tyler a chance to respond, turning to me instead. "Baby, happy birthday! I'll give you your gift later. Come on. Give me a kiss."

The entire hall is so quiet, I can hear a pin drop. Everyone holds their collective breaths, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, some of those ladies huddled in one corner are excited to share this bit of drama with everyone in our circle.

Martin takes one step, and Tyler fully covers me. I can't see Martin anymore, but I can't deny how safe it makes me feel with Tyler protecting me like this.

"Stay out of this, you piece of shit. You don't even belong here."

Martin must have made another move because the next thing I knew, I heard a hollow thud. I take a peek over Tyler's arm and see Martin sprawled on the floor, clutching the bottle to his stomach.

"Maura, stay back." Tyler's voice takes on a different tone, and I do as he asks, almost jumping in surprise when Mom's hands reach for me to pull me between her and Dad. "Just leave, man. It's Maura's birthday."

"Who the fuck do you think you are? You're just someone she picked up to piss me off!" Martin's friends help him stand, and the moment he does, he rears his arm back and tries to clock Tyler. Tyler catches it in his fist and shoves Martin back.

I can't watch anymore, so I sit on the nearest chair and cover my ears, willing everything to stop. Sounds of fists hitting flesh, grunts, and groans make me want to scream.

This is a nightmare. Why is nobody calling the guards? Why is no one stopping them? God, please don't let them hurt Tyler. Please, please, please.

"I'm gonna fucking sue you to hell and back, asshole. I'll make sure you're left with nothing!" Martin's voice booms.

I finally get the courage to look up, and what I see confuses me. The other guys, including Martin, are scattered on the floor with varying degrees of injuries—cuts, bleeding noses, swollen eyes.

But Tyler.

Tyler is standing over them, and he's not even breathing hard.

"Try it, Martin. You forgot all the CCTV cameras around the lobby and inside this very room. You sue him, I'll sue you right back. I bet your dad won't be too happy about that." Dad stands beside Tyler, one hand on Tyler's shoulder.

Martin looks like he's just been slapped. "You're siding with him? He stole Maura from me! He's a fucking nobody!"

"He didn't." I let go of Mom's hand and move closer to Tyler's other side. "I broke up with you and refused your marriage proposal. Stop blaming everyone but yourself. You can never see past your own selfish needs."

"Shut the fuck up, Maura," Martin hisses.

Tyler takes one step toward him, but Dad puts a hand to stop Tyler. "Tell my daughter to shut up and use that tone on her again, Martin, and it's going to be my fist on your cheek."

Martin's face falls. "He can't even afford her annual shopping spree in Milan! I am the man for her!"

Dad turns to me with a smile, love shining in his eyes. "Have you met our Maura, Martin? She doesn't need a man for money. She has more than enough as it is."