Rekindled: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance (Lost Love Book 3)

by Marcella Swann

  Meanwhile, Tristan found every convenient opportunity to spend time with Faith inside the factory. She checked in with the contractors, striking up friendly conversations with them and getting to know them. Many of them had family members who’d worked at Van Doren.

  “That’s great,” she said. “My mother did, too.”

  She liked having a personal touch with the workers. Tristan had thought at the start that it made her weak. But he was surprised at how far a kind word went towards them willing to work for her.

  She also broke up a possible squabble by helping both men involved see that they each made a valuable contribution to the project. The two men voiced their individual concerns, she listened to them, and then she offered a solution that made it a win-win for both guys.

  Tristan took her hand and led her from the factory floor. She went with him right past the workers and the contractors. He found a secluded spot out of the way, and he kissed her hotly, fiercely. She was surprised, but kissed him back just as passionately.

  It was only when he heard some footsteps nearby that he forced himself to break it off. She tasted so good. She touched her fingers to her lips and then quietly walked away. As for the footsteps? They belonged to Ricky.

  “Tris! What are you doing?”

  “Lay off, man. It’s just a kiss.”

  “That — that wasn’t just a kiss. Don’t lose your head over this girl. I’m surprised I even have to say that.” Ricky showed him the numbers on the iPad. “You’ve already spent six hundred thousand on this upgrading project. We’ve got to focus on finding a buyer, not hooking up with the local girls.”

  “Hey. I’m just taking advantage of the moment. She trusts me, remember? And she’s got Cubby’s ear. If we convince her, we convince him, and we’ll get Van Doren.”

  His friend rolled his eyes. “Man, I know your way with girls. You think you’re not in, and then all of a sudden, you’re doing all this stuff with them. And taking her to New York last night was way too fast. You’re not seriously committing to her, are you?”

  “No! Of course not.”

  He wasn’t. Was he? Damn it. Tristan Booker didn’t doubt himself. He was tired of the doubting. Faith was more than just a local hook-up or hot New York girl. He knew that, and she’d proved herself to him over and over the whole time he’d been back in Chelsea.

  God, they worked so well together. This whole operation was running a lot smoother than he thought it would, because they were compatible. Honestly, he hadn’t felt this good in a long time. Not even the Booker charm worked every time, or as well as he wanted it to. But Faith’s sincerity, fairness, generosity, and tough work ethic—that was a combination to succeed at Van Doren or in Manhattan. It felt like she was his true partner. Something new and different for him. In a good way.

  At lunch, Tristan and Faith sat side by side across from Cubby at the picnic table, eating their sandwiches and chatting about the work going on at Van Doren. Tristan was feeling more relaxed than ever.

  As for Ricky? He barely took his frowning gaze from the iPad screen. He just kept doing and redoing the numbers. Afterwards, Tris spoke privately to him.

  “Come on, Ricky. What’s gotten into you?”

  His friend ignored the question. “While you’ve been making goo-goo eyes, I’ve actually been working. Take a look at this.”

  It was the stock portfolio for a new possible company to take over. Tristan read through the folder’s contents. A wonderfully authentic boot-making business was based in Aspen, Colorado. They’d been making boots since the 1800s. Tristan recognized the brand.

  “The Aspen Boot Company is nationally renowned,” Ricky explained. “Millions of loyal customers. But they’re not even on Amazon. These guys should be easy to take over and sell.”

  A small one-state-only based business. It would be much easier than Eastman Foods. Normally, Tristan would be hopping on his personal jet to head out to Colorado. But he didn’t want to leave Chelsea.

  “This is exactly what we need to offset our losses from the publicity stuff,” Ricky pointed out. “It’s definitely more profitable than this Van Doren project, too. Amazon will snap this up.”

  “I know.” Tristan chewed his lip. “I’ll think about it.”

  “You’ll think about it? Are you serious? You get until Monday, and then I’m going to Colorado.”

  “Okay. Monday, then.”

  Ricky just shook his head and walked away from his friend. Today was Friday, so Tristan would only be here two more days. Two more days in Chelsea — and two more days with Faith.

  He wanted so much more.

  “Have a good night!”

  Faith waved to the last of the contractors as he got into his truck and drove off. Cubby had already left early to spend Friday night back at the Brennan farm, so Faith was the one who locked up Van Doren. She had help, though.

  Tristan’s warm hand slid into hers. He brought it up to his lips and kissed it. She smiled and walked slowly with him, hand in hand, across the parking lot and back to her truck. Lucy waddled beside her. The night was cool, and the starry sky looked amazing.

  “At this time last night, I think we were still eating dinner in Manhattan,” she said.

  “Or dancing. I liked the dancing part.”

  “Me, too.”

  He led her over to his now signature blue van. Then he reached in his pocket, took out his keys, and handed them to her.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “We’re heading over to my mom’s for pie and music tonight,” he reminded her. “I’d like you to drive.”

  She smiled. “That’s right.”

  She got up inside the van and waited for Tristan to climb up in the other side. Lucy snuggled between them, her huge head resting on her mom’s lap. Tristan scratched the bulldog’s back and she sighed.

  “She likes it,” Faith said.

  With one hand on the steering wheel, she petted her dog with the other. Tristan took her fingers and pulled on them, leaning Faith closer so they shared a hot kiss. He tasted so good, so right. His fingers intertwined in her hair, sending shivers down her spine.

  Every time their lips touched, she felt like her old self again. She felt like the happy teenage girl she’d been. His touch was familiar, his lips were familiar. It all brought back so many memories. But this time, there was more to him. Not just more money. But more experience, more worldliness. He’d done so many things in the past twelve years, and those things made him more exciting than he used to be.

  Wanda and Floyd had lived together in their big ramshackle house since Faith was a teenager. There was a huge wrap-around front porch, and the front yard was decorated in all kinds of funny lawn ornaments Wanda liked to collect. Their huge garage had long ago been turned into a workshop for her to tinker with and display her vintage and antique automobiles.

  Wanda was so happy to greet Tristan and Faith. She wore a long bohemian style dress and her silvery hair was pulled back with a bandana. She excitedly pointed out to them her most prized cars in her collection, especially her favorite Thunderbird, her old ‘70s Volkswagen bus she’d traveled around in while following The Grateful Dead, and her 1960’s Chevy Corvette Stingray.

  “A fiftieth birthday gift from Floyd,” she said. “Took me five years to fix up, but now we bomb around in it all summer.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Faith said. “What’s this?”

  They’d reached a large, blocky car that looked like a military vehicle.

  “My newest baby,” Wanda explained. “A 1989 Land Rover. We’d like to head out West in this thing. Floyd and I like the music festivals!”

  “Great, Mom. Really.” Tristan smiled.

  “All right, you two. Ready for dinner?”

  “I know I’m hungry,” Tristan said.

  Faith nodded. “Me, too.”

  Dinner was truly delicious. Wanda grew a big vegetable garden, so they were treated to her homegrown roasted butternut squash soup, a pork tenderloin
with fresh apple sauce, and plenty of her homemade fruity wines. Floyd was the one who liked to bake, so he pulled out all the stops for his peach blackberry pie.

  Throughout dinner, Wanda and Floyd told the most amazing stories about their pasts. Floyd was originally from California, then came out to Michigan because his brother had lived here. That’s when he met Wanda, and the two hit it off immediately. Wanda left home at sixteen to join friends who were caught up in the rock n’ roll scene. She’d been to hundreds of concerts in the late ‘60s, ‘70s, and into the early ‘80s. Faith was shocked at how many famous musicians she’d met or had known personally.

  “They were great guys,” she said. “But I think my favorite was meeting Elvis.”

  “Elvis?” Faith laughed.

  “Yep, I was in Las Vegas to see him. He was amazing up onstage. Couldn’t take my eyes off of him. Then afterwards, I got to hang out in his dressing room. You should have seen the clothes!”

  Faith couldn’t believe it. “And then you wanted to live in Chelsea after doing all that?”

  “Well yeah, honey. I did get the best of both worlds, though. I loved traveling and doing all these crazy things. But now I love having a home of my own and being rooted in one place. For me, happiness has been about both.”

  Maybe she was right. Faith had lived her whole life with so much security and routine. But there was a whole world of experiences. She couldn’t stop thinking about her New York trip. It really opened her mind.

  Wanda got up from the table and excitedly headed over to the living room. Curious, Faith followed her. She had a large vinyl record collection that took up one huge shelving unit, with some records posted on the wall as decorations. Wanda put some vintage ‘50s rock dance music on her stereo. Faith couldn’t help it. She had to start dancing! It was so much fun to do “the twist” along with Chubby Checker and shake her hips.

  “Come on, Tristan,” she said. “Let’s have some fun!”

  Tristan laughed. He set down his beer and came over to dance with her. Faith felt like they were on one of those old-fashioned dance shows and would go out for milkshakes afterwards. They boogied to Tutti Frutti, Great Balls of Fire, Shout! and, of course, Blue Suede Shoes by Elvis himself. Lucy gave little barks here and there, sometimes shaking her own round little rump in time to the music. Tristan got a kick out of that. He was already quite attached to the bulldog.

  Faith collapsed on the couch, laughing. She couldn’t remember when she’d last had such a good time. When Elvis’s slow song Love Me Tender started crackling from the stereo, Tristan reached down for her hand. She quieted her laughter and put her fingers in his. Then she got up from the couch to slow dance with him. Her arms went around his neck, and his hands gently touching her at the waist. His warmth was so nice and strong to lean against, and she breathed in his woodsy cologne. Wrapped up in one another, they slowly swayed to the crooning lyrics. She couldn’t remember a time when she last felt this happy. Every time they did something new together, it not only felt like old times, but new times, too. It just felt so right.

  Wanda and Floyd wished them a good night, and Tristan quietly drove Faith home. Lucy’s warmth on her lap felt good. Her stomach was fluttery and her head a little fuzzy from the glasses of wine, and she only wanted to be closer to him.

  “Do you remember our first time together?” she asked quietly. “During that Fourth of July fireworks celebration?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  “We took your old truck out to a field, then put all the blankets we could find in the truck bed. The fireworks were going off overhead, and it was such a warm night. Then we were together in the truck. You were my first, you know.”

  “Yeah.” He glanced at her. “You were mine.”

  She wasn’t sure if she believed him. Tristan had dated a couple of girls before her. But if it was true, then it was nice to hear it and it was nice to know. Their first time love-making was passionate and sweet and hot. It was just everything that made her happy.

  Tristan pulled up in her driveway and parked. Faith mumbled something about feeding Lucy, and got out of the truck to take her dog inside. She was secretly glad when Tristan followed her into the house. He wasn’t saying anything, just being there. His presence alone made her a bit nervous. She wanted him, but it was still so complicated… So much history between them. Even if she was remembering not just the bad times, but the really good ones, too.

  Lucy munched on her food, happy as could be to lap it up.

  “She’s really great,” Tristan said.

  Faith couldn’t look at him. She was nervous. “Yeah.”

  He reached for her hand. He slid his other hand up her arm, up to her shoulder. His fingers lightly skimmed over her neck, making her shiver. She had no time to meet his eyes before he was suddenly kissing her. Pulling her close to him, closer than she’d been before. It passionately awoke her own desire. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him right up against her. She heard his gasp, which made her moan. He pressed right up against her, taking her breath away. His hands were in her hair and his kisses were all around her mouth and throat. She felt weakened by it and began to collapse into his arms by the pleasure of it.

  “God, I want you.” His breath was hot on her skin. “I want to touch you.”

  “I — I want you, too.” She was out of breath, surrounded by him and his strength.

  He made a purring sound in his throat that instantly aroused her. She started pulling him away from the kitchen, towards her living room. He couldn’t stop kissing her, and his hands were at her waist. She’d feel his fingers on her bare skin beneath her sweater, and then she’d take another step back. Teasing him, leading him on towards where she wanted him to follow.

  He paused at the entrance to her living room and began unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Too slow,” she insisted.

  She reached towards him and pulled his shirt back, even ripping one button off. He chuckled. His deep blue-green eyes sparkled with humor. That made her want him all the more and she crashed her lips into his, her tongue seeking his.

  He matched her desire and suddenly hoisted her up with one hand, pressing her breasts right against his chest, and brought her to the sofa. She kicked off her shoes and ran her hands all around his shoulders, his upper arms. She pressed her hands against his back and pressed harder. Anything to get closer, closer. His erection strained against his pants and pressed against her, making her moan into his mouth.

  He set her on the floor next to the sofa as he started unbuttoning his pants. She grabbed the edges of her sweater and pulled it up and over her head. The cooler night air swept past her naked collarbones and tummy. She took his hands away from his pants and put them right on her heaving breasts. His touch made her gasp and took all the strength out of her. He fondled her skin through her thin bra, then leaned down and kissed, kissed, kissed. His kisses were everywhere. His fingers slipped underneath the wire and right to her nipple. She whimpered to feel his hand there, and whimpered even louder as he deftly unhooked her bra. Her breasts filled his hands, and he circled his tongue gently but firmly around each nipple.

  “Oh, God. . .”

  Her desire for him was making her delirious. It was the most intense and fierce longing in her hips, begging for him. In a few seconds, she’d unbuttoned her jeans and shoved them down. Tristan knew exactly where to go, exactly what she wanted, exactly how to touch her. His tongue was on her nipple, one hand holding her back, his other slipping down her soft stomach and down into her panties. He gently brushed against her clit.

  “I can’t stand anymore,” she murmured. “I can’t.”

  “I’ve got you. Lay back.”

  She let her knees give way and her trembling, aroused body slipped down to the sofa. He didn’t let go of her and followed her down to his knees, his hand still touching her, still exploring her. He moved the thin fabric aside and gently explored her with his fingers before suddenly pulling her panties down so he could taste
her.

  She gripped the sofa, her knees shaking as he kissed and gently nibbled at her. She fondled her breasts and twined her fingers in his hair. Her legs spread wide apart so he could have all of her. All he wanted. Her orgasm took her by surprise, as it had built like the ocean, with little waves turning into larger ones. Her back went rigid and she threw her head back, crying out and letting those pleasurable waves crash over and over her body. He licked and licked until she begged him to stop.

  “I have to have you now,” she gasped. “I need your cock so bad.”

  “Oh you do, do you?” he purred between her legs.

  “More . . . more than anything. Ever.”

  She was still shaking with pleasure as she watched him take his pants down. His cock was swollen and thick, and he knelt before her for a moment to let her see it. She couldn’t help reaching out to touch him. Tentative at first, her fingers lightly petting his hard, delicate skin. He grunted and thrust towards her. That’s when she wrapped all her fingers around him. The pleasure she gave him made her shiver, while he bit his lip. She felt an even deeper pleasure growing in her hips. She spread her legs wide before him, her back pressed against the sofa.

  “Fuck me now.”

  She didn’t have to tell him twice. He thrust forward, past her hand, and into her. His fullness was everything she needed right now, and she still wanted more. She pushed against the back of the sofa to move her body forward and thrust him in deeper. Her breasts bounced as she matched his passionate rhythm. He thrust forward on his knees. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her closer, closer. That’s all she wanted. All she needed. He was reaching up inside her, everywhere, hitting every pleasure spot over and over. She angled her hips, chasing a second orgasm that started pinging around inside her body. The harder he thrust, the more she liked it. His muscles were rigid, his shoulders taut and tense, his ass as tight as could be.

  Suddenly, she felt his incredibly strong arms wrap around her and lift her right off the sofa. He came just like that, bent over her, wrapped up in her, his body shuddering. He vibrated inside her and they shared their pleasure together. It was like fireworks, crackling and snapping.