Page 39 of Cross My Heart

“But no pressure. Zero pressure from the team, kid. You’re a fighter. We just want you at a hundred percent and bushy tailed. You let us know. You just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“So far so good, huh?” The stupid part was that Josh was the only thing making him better, but going back would probably kill any hopes he had with Josh.

“Trust me, kid, you’ve got this. We’ll talk more soon.” And with that, Boris ended the call, leaving Tyler with unanswered questions and a lingering sense of unease.

He stared at the phone in his hand, his jaw clenched as frustration bubbled within him. The conversation had only served to deepen his conflict about the stark contrast facing him.

Tyler set down his phone. Nadia raised her eyebrows expectantly, but he just shrugged.

After a shower and some grilled trout, Tyler sat alone on the front porch steps, watching the sunset smear the horizon. The past couple of hours had really run the gamut: his sister, Cilla Miller, Boris, even that big bald nurse at Dr. Reynolds’s place trying to help.

For so long, he had kept his feelings bottled up inside, afraid to make himself vulnerable again after all his dumb hookups and fake dates for ESPN. But now, something had shifted. Being with Josh had awakened a part of Tyler he thought he’d lost.

In Josh, he might have found an honest-to-God partner… someone who could challenge him, support him, and perhaps even teach him to see the world through new eyes. Given Tyler’s dodgy track record with dating and commitment, that was no small thing.

Tyler realized he didn’t need absolute guarantees or assurances. He just needed to take a chance. He wanted to help Josh, make him laugh, fight dragons, save the library, and anything else that Josh was willing to accept. Plus, better to know before he did anything about the NFL. For once in his life, he needed to trust his heart no matter how battered or broken it might be. After all, who took hits better than him?

Tyler closed his eyes, enjoying the light breeze over his upturned face.

No need to rush, no dumb gestures, but he would start working toward telling Josh exactly how he felt. Think like a musketeer, man. A proper date maybe, someplace special, something out of the ordinary. He tried to recapture that feeling he had when he was reading: cocky and courteous, with more panache than he had any right to claim. He’d find the right moment and lay himself bare.

When he opened his eyes again, the first stars of evening had winked into view.

Tyler smiled then and bowed to the sky in thanks. He knew exactly what he needed to do.

Chapter Eight

“NOPE. WE’RE on a secret mission.” Tyler sounded infuriatingly pleased with himself.

Josh shifted in the passenger seat; the velvet of his Renaissance courtier breeches kept sliding on his truck’s work vinyl. He glanced at Tyler beside him, one massive hand casually guiding the wheel as the other drummed along to the radio against his dark tights. Even with half his face obscured by a black bandit’s mask, Tyler’s excitement was palpable.

“Come on, just tell me where we’re going.” Josh couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer. Tyler had commandeered his truck and everything. Seeing Tyler behind that wheel felt more intimate and significant than it probably should have.

Tyler grinned, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “What’s the fun in that? Don’t you trust me?”

Josh laughed. “With my life and limbs. But kidnapping me before breakfast is pushing it.”

Not so secretly, he was thrilled by Tyler’s spontaneous road trip, made all the more tantalizing by his elaborate secrecy—not to mention being kidnapped by Mr. Tall, Dark, and Undressed.

And the glimpse of Tyler’s brawny chest and powerful thighs beneath his outrageous bandit costume certainly didn’t hurt. Josh worried the elaborate embroidered outfit Tyler had surprised him with was a bit much for an outing, but once Tyler had begun to manhandle him into these clothes, he surrendered to the goofiness.

Today was Sunday. Josh’s doorbell had rung just after nine, and Josh had gone to the door expecting Amazon Prime or a hopeful tree trimmer hustling for work, only to find Tyler standing on the mat, grinning and bare-chested, wearing dark leggings and a bulging codpiece.

“Are those tights?” Josh laughed and opened the door wider. “Tyler. What happened?”

“I’m a bandit, and you’re being abducted.”

Without any further preamble or explanation, Tyler had simply pushed inside his house, stripped Josh to his boxer briefs in his front hallway, and then dressed him out of a pile of folded garments, while Josh concentrated on not getting a big stonking stiffy while standing so exposed in front of the man of his dreams.

That had taken willpower, what with Tyler’s big, capable fingers fumbling with the elaborate buckles on a pair of borrowed breeches, pulling a pressed cotton shirt over his head, then tucking it in so gently that the hair on Josh’s neck stood on end. Tyler had knelt to lace Josh into glossy boots that hugged his calves, then pulled his arms into an elaborate waistcoat stitched with silver. When Josh finally saw himself in the hall mirror, he gasped.

No words would come. He had lost his capacity for speech.

“Prince Charming,” said Tyler, looming behind him like a lusty robber king. Then he reached up to softly brush Josh’s hair off his brow. “Perfect.”

“I don’t look like that.” Josh straight-up shivered.

Tyler gestured at the door. “Your rusty carriage awaits, my lord. Unless you trust me with your big pickup.”