MAYBE BABY

by ANDREA SMITH

  downing his flute of champagne with one gulp.

  A waiter passed by and he promptly put his empty glass on his tray, grabbing another full flute of champagne, now visibly scowling over at us.

  I laid my head against Tristan’s chest, allowing him to expertly lead me around the dance floor. Several other couples were slow dancing as well. As we circled the floor, I saw Caroline standing next to Nigel, glaring at me. She tossed her glass of wine down, her glare becoming more obvious. There was another woman standing next to her looking very impassive.

  “Don’t worry about the skinny bitch,” Tristan leaned down, whispering against my ear.

  His warm breath made me shiver, his hand rubbing my back gently to offer moral support.

  “She knows better than to say one wrong word to you, trust me.”

  “Who’s that standing with them?” I asked, looking up into Tristan’s handsome face.

  “That’s Tess, Caroline’s protégé,” he said flatly.

  “I thought as much,” I replied softly. “Is her husband here as well?”

  My eyes skimmed the group of people lingering in nearby groups. I couldn’t locate any man that fit the physical form of a jockey.

  Tristan scoffed, “They are separated. Apparently Tess has found someone else to her liking now.”

  I felt my heart thud. I knew it. She wanted Trey back. That explained her call to him for legal advice; the need for confidentiality Trey so adamantly protected.

  I suddenly felt sick and defeated. I lowered my lashes just enough to appear as if my eyes were closed, but allowing me to assess my competition from beneath them.

  Tess was short and petite. I judged her to be no more than 5’2” tall and weighing less than 100 lbs. She had an almost waif-like, fragile appearance. Her large brown eyes seemed to dominate her facial features. She looked like someone who had dropped too much weight and not on

  purpose. Her hair was darker than mine and was blunt cut,

  falling just above her shoulders. She wore a pale green satin dress that was form fitting, though it was too loose on her in the places where it was supposed to cling. Her pumps were dyed to match the dress.

  As I continued my lash camouflaged perusal, I saw Trey join the group. He had replaced the champagne with a glass of auburn colored liquid. Probably Jack Daniels I thought wryly. He was genuinely sulking at this point, and I took satisfaction in that fact.

  Tess was now next to him, her hand brushing his arm as he bent down to listen to what she was saying. He looked over at Tristan and me, a frown line creasing his forehead. He took a final swig of his drink and approached us on the dance floor.

  “May I cut in?” his smooth and silky voice had a steel edge to it.

  “Of course,” Tristan acquiesced, dropping his arms from me, allowing Trey to take his place.

  Trey’s touch was not as gentle as Tristan’s had been.

  He was angry still. I looked up at Tristan as he took leave

  and saw an expression of amusement pass quickly over his face. Tristan knew that Trey was jealous and he enjoyed it. It had to be a ‘brother thing.’

  “Enjoying yourself Tylar?” Trey asked with forced congeniality, moving me away from Caroline’s continued glare.

  “I was,” I replied, making no secret of my discontent with him.

  He squeezed me to him tightly, making me squirm uncomfortably.

  “I think my brother was very appreciative of the view you provided him in that low cut dress you selected to wear tonight,” he snapped.

  I could smell the whisky on his breath. Oh God, he was drinking Jack Daniels. He was staring down at me his eyes raking the swell of my breasts boldly. I turned my head to the side, Caroline was once again in my direct line of vision. Tristan was over there now, talking to Tess. Nigel was not taking his eyes off of them. How strange, I thought. The dynamics between these people were mind-blowing.

  Trey’s lips brushed my neck, slowly caressing it with warm soft kisses. I tingled at his touch. Deep within my belly a seed of desire for him was growing. I was determined not to give in to it.

  I pulled back from him, spinning around and exiting the dance floor. I passed a waiter with a tray of champagne filled flutes and grabbed one. I downed the sparkling golden liquid, loving the bubbly taste of it as it went down. I set the empty flute down, making my way back to the foyer. Trey caught up with me once there, grabbing my arm, spinning me around to face him. He was furious with me.

  “What the fuck do you think you are doing?”

  His sapphire eyes were boring into me, his hand squeezing my shoulder tightly. I tried to jerk free of him but he was not releasing his hold.

  “One glass of champagne during my pregnancy is not harmful,” I replied. “My doctor said an occasional beer or glass of wine is not detrimental to my pregnancy,” I hissed, not about to let him intimidate me.

  “It looks as if you are into your Jack pretty heavy tonight,” I snapped, “Plan on knocking someone else up?”

  I hadn’t seen Tristan approach us from behind.

  “Trey,” he said calmly, “Why don’t you take a moment to collect yourself.”

  “Tristan, why don’t you keep your fucking eyes and hands off of Tylar,” he said abruptly, glaring at his brother angrily.

  Oh God, just what I needed, another family scene played out. I was getting damn sick and tired of being the focus of the drama. How dysfunctional was this family?

  “Well, well, what have we here?” Caroline slurred in her high-pitched voice, another full glass of wine in her hand, sloshing over the side as she swayed on her feet.

  "It looks like Tylar wants a second Sinclair in her bed tonight. Are you absolutely sure that the bastard you are

  carrying is even Trey’s?” she leered, taking a gulp of the wine, giving me a poisonous glare.

  “Shut up, Caroline,” Trey replied harshly.

  She was not fazed by the directive one bit. She continued to stare at me, her eyes narrowing. Tristan approached her, taking her elbow to lead her away. She twisted out of his grasp, coming toward me. Trey was immediately in front of me, shielding me from her impending wrath. I didn’t need his protection. I scooted around him, facing her haughty face with my own.

  “Listen to me you fucked-uppity bitch,” I said quietly but firmly. “Everyone else may tolerate your drunken tirades and despicable comments, but I don’t roll that way. You keep your mouth shut around me and about me, do you

  understand?”

  I had her attention now. Her mouth had dropped open and as I walked nearer to her, my finger jabbing the air close to her face, she swallowed nervously, backing up a step.

  “One more snide comment, one more dirty look sent my way, one more uninvited intrusion into my bedroom and I will wipe the ground up with your skinny, useless ass, east coast style, got it?”

  She snorted at me, looking from face to face and finding no support from anyone. She nodded and quickly departed the foyer for safer ground.

  I turned back to Trey and Tristan who were regarding me with something close to surprise.

  “I need some air,” I stated firmly. “Tristan, would you please help me find my coat?”

  He nodded and walked toward the hallway.

  “I’ll go with you,” Trey offered.

  “No,” I snapped at him, “You are drunk and I’m tired of your assholiness at the moment. I’m not comfortable with the secrets you are keeping from me. I know that Tess is leaving her husband. If you are having second thoughts about me Trey, we can certainly dissolve this engagement now.”

  "What kind of a man do you think that I am?" he snarled, clearly agitated.

  Tristan returned with my coat, helping me into it. Just then Tess appeared in the doorway by herself. She walked over to where we were standing.

  “Hello,” she said, extending her hand to me. “I don’t believe that we have met. I’m Tess Flannery. You must be Tylar?”

  “Yes, I’m pleased to meet you, Tess,
” I lied, shaking her hand.

  She managed a weak smile, her features were fragile. She was not what I had expected that was for certain.

  “Tylar, would you excuse Trey just for a few moments? I really need to speak with him privately.”

  Trey looked from me to Tess, not sure what to do. I decided to make it easy for him.

  “Of course,” I replied smoothly, turning my attention to Trey’s older brother. “He’s all yours. Tristan will you walk with me, please?” I asked, taking his arm, turning my back to both of them.

  Tristan escorted me outside where I dissolved into tears before I was off of the porch.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Tristan put his arms around me, hugging me closely to his chest, talking to me very soothingly.

  “Tylar, everything is going to be okay. You must know that.”

  “I don’t know anything, Tristan. All I know is that Trey is keeping secrets from me; Tess has left her husband, and Caroline is a nasty, hateful bitch who hates me for some unknown reason,” I sobbed.

  “Things are not always as they appear,” he replied. “Well except for Caroline. That is pretty much a case of what you see is what you get.”

  His comment brought a smile to my otherwise tearful face. He pulled a cloth handkerchief from his pocket, dabbing my tears with it.

  “She wants him back, doesn’t she? Tess wants Trey back. Please tell me the truth.”

  “You’re wrong, Tylar. Even if that were true, I can promise you one thing; Trey would never take her back. He is totally in love with you. I know my little brother and we’ve talked about this just today. He loves you and you only. Even when he was engaged to Tess, he was never as committed and in love with her like he is now with you.”

  “It’s just the baby,” I replied, blowing my nose on his clean white handkerchief.

  “It’s not,” he stated firmly, “It’s you that he adores.”

  “Then why is she calling him? What is all the secrecy about?”

  Tristan sighed heavily, taking my arm and leading me down the drive away from the house. He was conflicted, that was obvious.

  “Tylar,” he said, softly. “Can you please just trust me for the moment on this? I promise you that the truth will be out very soon. It’s Christmas today and as much as our family and Tess’s family are close and have a long history with each other; there are some skeletons that will be coming

  out of the closet very soon. Not today though. Today is

  about it just being Christmas. Can you please trust me on this?”

  I looked up into his deep green eyes and I knew that I saw sincerity and honesty. I nodded affirmatively at him.

  “Good,” he replied, smiling.

  He pulled me into a brotherly hug, wiping my remaining tears with his thumb. From behind him, someone cleared their throat eager to make their presence known. Holy shit, it was Landon.

  “Merry Christmas, Tristan,” he nodded, smirking as he walked by towards the house. He glanced at me, his lip curled in contempt. “I see you’ve moved on Ms. Preston. At least you are keeping it in the family.”

  I started to say something; ready to put the asshole in his place as well but Tristan shook his head, cautioning me to let it go. As soon as Landon went inside, Tristan turned back to me.

  “Let it be,” he said gently. “Remember, today is about Christmas.”

  I nodded but it was difficult. I had not been exposed to this type of treatment or hateful attitude displayed by Caroline and Landon ever. The thought crossed my mind as to just how perfect they would be for each other.

  Tristan and I continued our walk in the crisp December air, talking about his life in California’s Napa Valley, his winery. I asked him if he lived close to Nigel and Caroline but they were nearly seventy miles apart. It sounded as if he saw them just a time or two more each year than he did his parents or Trey. Tristan asked how I liked living in Trey’s apartment and working at the firm. He said he actually missed the east coast and had considered selling out to Nigel and moving back to the area.

  “I know Trey would love that,” I commented. “It seems that you and he have more of a bond than he and Nigel. You both resemble each other so much.”

  "Yes," he admitted, chuckling, "In looks only. Trey is much more of a stubborn hot-head than I am, I'm afraid. But he also has a very compassionate streak that many people

  don’t recognize. I think that is what is making you feel a bit insecure at the moment. You need to believe in his love and his commitment to you, Tylar. It is genuine.”

  From the front porch of the house, a door slammed. Tristan and I looked over as Caroline came out on the porch, Nigel following close behind. She had no coat on, and was staggering, holding a bottle of wine in her right hand, periodically taking swigs from the bottle.

  “Dear God,” Tristan murmured under his breath. “What now?”

  “Keep away from me you cheating son-of-a-bitch!” she screamed, swatting at him with her arms. “You didn’t think I would find out? She was like a sister to me you bastard!” Landon joined Nigel on the porch, trying to coax Caroline back inside. Caroline turned on Landon, screaming and swatting at him.

  “You knew didn’t you?” she accused as she circled him, pointing her finger at him.

  “How could you betray me like that?”

  She lifted the wine bottle up and over him, dousing him with dark red wine. Landon kept talking to her quietly. I couldn’t hear what he was saying.

  (What the hell is going on?)

  I looked at Tristan and his face was ashen.

  “Oh shit,” he murmured. “Get ready for some skeletons. This is not going to be pretty.”

  As Tristan and I watched, a hand touched my shoulder from behind, startling me. It was Trey. He had come up behind us from around the back of the house. His expression was one of agitation at the very least. He seemed to have sobered up by whatever conversation had taken place between he and Tess, but I could tell he was not pleased with the attention I was getting from his older brother.

  "Tristan, can you give Tylar and me a ride back to the house? I've had too much to drink and would prefer not

  driving. Nigel is driving my car back."

  Holy shit, what had happened in there?

  Tristan nodded, still glancing over at the people who had assembled on the front porch. By this time, both Nigel and Landon’s parents had joined the others on the porch, trying to ascertain the situation. Tristan shook his head, reaching in his pocket for the keys to his mother’s BMW. Trey took my arm firmly, opening the car door, and helping me inside the back seat where he joined me. Tristan played chauffeur to us, driving us back to the Sinclair house. Tristan dropped us off, indicating that he was going back to see if they needed help in diffusing the situation.

  Once inside the house, I turned to Trey. He was taking off his coat, tossing it onto a chair. He helped me off with my coat, his gaze not meeting mine.

  I climbed the steps to our bedroom, suddenly tired of the drama and the secrets. I sat down on the bed, taking my heels and stockings off. I undressed, wishing that Trey was up in the room so at least he could help me get my dress unzipped. I finally managed to get it unzipped far enough to slip if off over my head. I removed my bra, pulling on one of Trey’s tee shirts.

  I washed my make-up off and brushed my teeth, climbing numbly under the covers of the bed. I buried my face in my pillow, tears flowing once again. I could stand almost anything but the silent treatment I was getting. I would rather have Trey yell at me than simply act as if I didn’t exist. I finally drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

  It seemed like it was much later when I heard Trey come into the room. He was trying to be quiet, but downstairs I could hear the others coming in, doors slamming voices muted. Trey went into the bathroom. Moments later I heard the shower running. I didn’t hear Caroline’s screechy voice anywhere and for that I was grateful. Perhaps she had passed out.

  I rolled over onto my side, my hands
up under my face folded as if in prayer. I wished we were back in our apartment in Atlanta. Our life seemed normal there; happy and content. I never dreamed normal families could be so

  dysfunctional. Perhaps tomorrow Trey would be talking to me again and finally explain the skeletons Tristan had mentioned.

  The bathroom door opened and I heard Trey turn the light switch off. He climbed underneath the covers and surprisingly, he moved close to me. Maybe he was no longer angry; maybe we would sleep curled up in each other’s arms like we had done last night. His hands slipped underneath the covers and moved to pull me close to him. He had no way of knowing that I was even awake but I didn’t think it mattered to him.

  He hooked his thumb inside the elastic waistband of my panties, pulling them down to my knees, slipping them lower over my feet and off. He pulled the covers back, grasping my tee shirt and pulling it up over my head, pulling my arms from the sleeves. I was totally naked now keeping my eyes closed and making no effort to let him know that I was awake. If he thought I was going to respond to his sexual foreplay after carrying on secret discussions with Tess he was in for a very rude awakening.

  He had moved me so that I was now on my back. I felt his hands on my breasts, pressing, kneading and pulling enticingly on my nipples. My body had defied me, as it unwillingly responded to his caresses and touch. His lips moved to mine, plying them open; his tongue explored my mouth with sweet urgency.

  “Trey, stop . . . don’t,” I murmured against his warm soft lips.

  He paid me no heed as he continued his pursuit of pleasure down the column of my throat, licking and teasing my nipples to erection. His mouth closed around a breast, drawing it in as his tongue flickered around sensually, sucking the nipple with unfettered need.

  I moved my hands down, tangling my fingers into his damp locks. I fisted his hair, tugging to pull him away. I didn’t want him to pleasure me; I didn’t want him to pleasure himself. He was oblivious to my denial.

  “Stop,” I demanded, “I don’t want this now; I need you to tell me what the hell is going on!”

  I tried to wriggle away from him, but his hands locked around mine in a vice-like grip, raising my arms up over my head, pinning each one down against the mattress with his own. He was strong and determined. My body ached for him against my own will.