Tristan (Knight's Edge Series Book 1)

by Liz Gavin

  She whispered, “I don’t give a damn what people think when they see this ring, though. The only thing that matters to me is that you gave it to me because you are in a relationship with me.”

  Tristan almost forgot his good intentions, his hard-on painfully tenting his tuxedo pants.

  He reined in his hormones.

  Barely.

  Sighing in resignation, he kissed her forehead. “You’ve got that right, love. You know what else this ring means?”

  “My Irish ancestors must be rolling in their graves right about now,” she confessed as she shook her head.

  “Silly!” Tristan kissed the tip of her lovely nose. “The hands represent my friendship; the heart, my love; and the crown, my loyalty. The ring means you’ll always get these three things from me.”

  Her eyes brimmed with, he hoped, happy tears before she climbed on his lap. “I swear to God, I’ll slap you if you try to push me off,” she growled.

  He chuckled. “No worries there.”

  Tristan cradled her head with one hand as he raked the fingers of his other hand down her back and their mouths sealed together in a slow, deep kiss. He poured his soul into that gesture and it was touched by Izzie’s. Her body trembled, and her lips quivered under his, but her low moans raised the red flags.

  He pulled away, rested his forehead against hers again, and tried to catch his breath. Her wriggling on his lap did nothing to help soothe his desire. “You’ll be the death of me, woman.”

  Her mischievous laughter meant she knew what she was doing.

  She promised, “I’ll behave.”

  Izzie dropped her head on his shoulder, linked her fingers loosely behind his neck, and sat still until they reached their destination.

  When Tristan opened the door of the suite, a whiff of cinnamon and vanilla welcomed them. Her head snapped up and he smiled down at her stunned expression.

  “You remembered!”

  She was referring to a movie they had watched a couple of years before. The first one they watched together that had sex scenes in it. Overcoming the initial self-consciousness, when a particular scene was over, where the main character loses her virginity, they discussed it. Izzie told him the romantic setting was her favorite part of the whole scene. Tristan had the B&B staff recreate it to a tee, including the scented candles spread around the room, and the red rose petals marking a path from the door to the bed.

  “I remember everything about you,” he replied.

  Despite his best efforts, their first sexual experience didn’t live up to expectations.

  “I’m so sorry.” His out-of-breath statement hung in the air between them as Izzie propped herself on her arms when they were done.

  “Why? I’m the one who should be apologizing. I got too self-conscious, I guess. I didn’t know what to do, how to move, or behave.”

  “Okay, okay.” He threw his hands up, laughing. “Let’s compromise here. We both screw this up? You know what they say, though. Practice makes it perfect.” Her smoldering smile encouraged him, so Tristan crawled down the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. “Brace yourself for round two.”

  She squealed, when he placed a kiss on her navel, but didn’t try to escape his mouth. His lips curved up against her skin as his fingers drew a slow path downward, faintly caressing Izzie, and stoking his fire as her skin came alive with goosebumps. He stopped his fingers short of her sex, replacing them with his lips.

  A quick touch to tease her.

  Then, Tristan retraced his movements, crawling up the mattress. He braced himself above her body to shower open-mouthed kisses on her face, down her neck, lingering on the hollow of her throat, the underside of her breasts, on her belly button, and back to her sex. His desire took over and he latched his lips onto her clit, pulling it inside his mouth, sucking it until Izzie’s round thighs trembled, her fingers clawed through his hair.

  Izzie moaned, and arched her back, so he sucked harder, adding a finger to take her over the edge. When her sighs escalated to sobs, her flesh quivering around his tongue and teeth, the first wave of orgasm hit her. Tristan sat upright on the bed, gathering her into his arms and onto his lap, thrusting his cock deep inside her. Izzie’s sex gripped his erection as if it would never let it go. Tristan exploded inside her warmth as Izzie whispered sweet nothings in his ear, cradling his face in the crook of her neck.

  Blissful.

  Sinful.

  Unforgettable.

  The alarm clock went off and Tristan snoozed it. When he opened his eyes again, he found out he had turned off the alarm, and slept for another hour. He groaned into the pillow as he buried his face in its softness. But, the real embarrassment came when he realized he was sporting a morning wood like he hadn’t in years.

  “Just what I needed today,” he mumbled, throwing the sheets off him and climbing out of bed.

  He took care of the hard-on with a quick cold shower and a little help from his five best friends. They never failed him. He got dressed, gobbled down a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, then closed the lid of the traveling mug to keep the remaining latte warm as he drove to his destination through the light late morning traffic.

  Snagging the last spot in the covered structure, Tristan killed the engine of his M4 GTS, and climbed out of it. As much as he loved Lilly, visiting his mom at the nursing home depressed him every time. As he emerged from the parking building, he took in the peaceful gardens with the extensive grassed area, trickling fountains, and colorful flowers dotting the beautiful landscape design. In the distance he spotted the orchard, a favorite with seniors and visitors alike, because it offered an inviting shade to escape the scorching tropical sun. Surprised not to locate Lilly there, Tristan steered towards the main building, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows. He let out a sigh of relief when he found his mom sitting in the common area.

  “Hey, hon,” Lilly grinned as he kissed her cheek. “Lose the frown, Tristan Knight. A hundred fifteen is way too hot, even for a California girl, with the humidity we’ve got here.”

  “Didn’t say anything.”

  “Don’t need to. I’m your mother.” She winked, then coughed.

  “That cough doesn’t sound good.” Tristan searched around for a staff member, when the whooping got Lilly out of breath.

  She gripped his wrist at the same time as she clutched her flattened hand to her chest as if that could stop the wheeze. “It’s okay. There’s nothing they can do about it.”

  Tristan was aware dialysis increased the risk of infections, so a simple cold could turn into something nasty, but he didn’t want to alarm Lilly. “If you say so,” he grumbled. Not wanting to alarm her didn’t mean he agreed with the situation.

  “It’s just a cough, silly. Stop worrying and sit down so we can talk.” She patted the cushion beside her on the couch. “You’re giving me a neck cramp.”

  It was like Lilly was using her Super Mom powers to turn him into an eight-year-old again and he wondered how moms did that. Surveying her one last time to make sure she didn’t need medical attention, he disregarded a comfortable-looking armchair nearby and sat beside Lilly on the couch. The subdued yellow upholstery harmonized with the elegant old-Europe décor of the spacious room, where half a dozen similar couches, set up in cozy semi-circles with matching chairs, offered privacy and comfort. He slung an arm around her shoulders and tucked Lilly against his chest. They didn’t talk, and he savored the warm sensation of hugging his mom. He was a hugger and wasn’t ashamed of that. At least, not around Lilly.

  “It’s beautiful in here. I like it,” he observed, and she simply nodded. Apparently, his mom was enjoying the quiet moment with her only son.

  The large windows provided healthy natural light and he admired the kaleidoscopic patterns that a beam painted on the floor and walls as it bounced off a Tiffany lamp on one of the side tables. He was trying his damnedest to accept Lilly’s deteriorating health, which wasn’t the Brazilian doctors’ fault. At all. Lilly lived in Californ
ia when she was diagnosed, and Tristan went back to the United States. The doctors told him it was unlikely she would survive more than five years. He convinced her to come live in Brazil, where it would be easier to keep an eye on her. That was ten years ago.

  For most of her life, Lilly partied hard, drinking anything with an alcohol content of fifteen percent or higher and experimenting with different drugs, both legal and not so legal. He had a pretty tame life compared to his mom’s. Now, her sixty-two-year-old abused system was threatening to shut down. He was terrified.

  “What’s eating you, boy?” She leaned her head on his shoulder, but didn’t look up. Not necessary. She knew him too well.

  Bullshitting her wouldn’t do, so he went for a minor reason for his worries. “I lost a boatload of money on those stocks I bought a couple of years ago and haven’t recouped the investment I put in when we opened Chez Nous.”

  “That’s a steaming pile of crap if I’ve ever seen one. I’m sick, but I haven’t lost my marbles.” Although her words were harsh, he knew where she was coming from. Lilly had a unique way of showing affection. “You know damn well the stock market stabilized and is climbing. As for the restaurant, Nelson hired a fucking Michelin starred chef and breathes down poor Herve’s neck to make sure he keeps those stars intact. Noah is the best PR person I’ve ever met. Gosh, his dates alone would guarantee a steady income to the restaurant for years.”

  He chuckled. “True.”

  “You bust your ass to make sure all works smoothly. Last time I checked, Chez Nous was quite a smash. What gives?”

  Not ready to admit his most recent concerns, Tristan stayed on a safer topic. “Yes, the bistro is doing well, but it’s a long way from repaying my initial investment, which means no profits. We spent more than we had planned on that dirt road linking Armação beach to Matadeiro. Otherwise, people would only have access to the waterfront restaurant by boat or on foot.”

  He took a deep breath as he mulled his finances over. The mounting medical bills drained his bank account faster than the dwindling royalty paychecks coming in to replenish it. When he wrote lyrics for Izzie, other artists would also record his songs. After he left America, some continued to seek him out, but that had eventually died out.

  “Okay, I’m not exactly bankrupt, but I’m not twenty anymore either. I’ve got responsibilities.”

  “Which weigh on your mind. I get that. Between you and me, we’ve got more than enough money, though.” She framed his face and forced him to stare into her eyes, same exact color as his. “You are hiding something. Don’t roll your eyes on me, young man.”

  “What am I going to do with you? You’re worse than a dog with a bone,” he snorted.

  “Spill it.”

  “Izzie is in town.”

  “She is? I want to see her. Bring her here.”

  “That’s it? You sure you didn’t lose your marbles?” He had a hard time keeping his tone light as his insides began to boil. He never quarreled with his mother and he wouldn’t start today over Izzie Anderson.

  Still, he couldn’t believe Lilly was so excited about the idea that Izzie was in town.

  She shrugged. “I miss her. She’s a good person. She was good for you.”

  That almost did it, but Tristan bit his tongue. “Mom, you’re not senile, so don’t bullshit me. You remember quite well what happened. She screwed me over six ways to Sunday. She used to be a great person, I’ll give you that. I fell in love with her, didn’t I? You don’t understand it, though. Showbiz changed Izzie. She’s not the same person we used to know.”

  “T, you won’t enjoy hearing this, but I’ll say it anyway. You. Are. Wrong. In my opinion, you should’ve gone after Izzie when she dumped that lowlife husband of hers.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Not in the least. I get it. Neither of you knew what you were doing fifteen years ago. I mean, you were hurt, she was using. Besides, you were too young. That combination made for dreadful decisions on either part. When I read somewhere that she had gotten her act together, I kind of hoped she would come after you. Or that you would pull your head out of your ass and go after her.” She sighed. “It took her longer than I expected, but she came to your door. Now, the ball is in your court. Don’t let me down.”

  He gawked at his mother, unable to decide where he should start pointing out the mistakes in her judgment. “Mom, I love you, but you don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” he admonished her, kissing her hands as he folded them inside his own. “That Izzie we knew and loved doesn’t exist anymore.” That thought saddened Tristan.

  “I beg to differ.” Izzie’s soft rebuttal floated from somewhere behind the couch. Her even tone did nothing to appease his heartbeats as the vital organ thudded against his ribcage.

  His head snapped around and he glared at Izzie. “How the hell did you find my mom?”

  “I looked her up. Elizabeth Knight isn’t a popular name in Brazil and I found only one in the Florianópolis metropolitan area.” She shrugged.

  Words escaped him, partially because he was caught off-guard, in part because of the ideas his mom and Bruna sowed in his head. But, mainly because the X-rated scenes that had populated his dreams the previous night now popped up in his head to haunt him. He battled the steamy images, but it was an epic failure. All it took to set his blood on fire was a sweep of his eyes over Izzie’s curvy figure in a floral knee-length sundress whose waist was accented by a thin brown leather belt. She looked stunning. Almost as irreproachable as she once was.

  Dragging his stare away, he set aside the many ways he would love to bunch the ample skirt up and fill his hands with what was hidden beneath it, or how the silken material would feel against his naked skin as Izzie rode his cock.

  He gave himself a mental shake and turned to Lilly. “I guess your wish just came true. She’s come to visit.” He kissed his mother’s hollowed cheek before he stood to leave. “I’ve got to go.”

  He scuttled away and, if he were to be honest, rushed to escape Bruna’s and his mom’s words as they echoed in his head. His efforts were useless as the words haunted him. He refused to believe he still had feelings for Izzie like Bruna had pointed out. Or that Izzie could go back to being the free-spirited and kind woman she used to be as his mom defended.

  The woman he had fallen in love with.

  “No way!” He muttered as he backed out of the parking space, maneuvering toward the exit.

  7

  Izzie

  “I missed you, munchkin.” Lilly reached out her hands and Izzie squeezed them before enveloping the older woman in a tight embrace.

  “It’s been too long, Auntie Lil.”

  “I know you’ve been to hell and back. Tell me how you are now though.”

  Izzie smiled, but couldn’t keep a weary sigh in as she sagged on the spot Tristan had vacated. “Like I’ve been to hell and back. I’m trying to do the right thing, but he won’t give me the time of day.”

  Lilly’s expression was kind when she reminded Izzie. “Ever thought you might have waited too long?”

  Izzie cast her eyes on the hands she wriggled on her lap. Through the years, she had gotten in touch with Lilly on a couple of occasions, over the phone. Ten years ago, when her mom got killed in a home invasion. Then again, five years later, when her dad passed after a short battle with lung cancer. Her dad had loved her and Arthur, his only grandson, with all his heart, but he had never gotten over her mom’s brutal death.

  Her only face-to-face contact with Lilly, not long before she moved to Brazil, had not been an easy one for Izzie. She recalled it as if it had happened hours ago.

  “When I first started in the NA program, you were the first person I contacted for the ninth step. I wasn’t ready to make amends with Tristan. You were the next best thing.”

  “Are you ready now?”

  “I thought I was. He made me doubt it yesterday, but I won’t give up.”

  “I never told
him we talked, you know. He wasn’t ready to hear about it, anyway. Then again, it’s not like you confided any secrets to me.”

  Izzie studied Lilly’s gaze and saw compassion, no judgment. “I never explained myself to you. Yet you’ve always trusted me, even though I caused Tristan so much heartache. I’m not sure I’d do the same if a girlfriend did that to Arthur.”

  Lilly stroked the back of Izzie’s hand. “I don’t know how much you heard, but I just told Tristan the two of you were too young and immature to make sound decisions.”

  “You remember Mark King?”

  “Sleazy excuse of a man. Yeah, I remember him. Never trusted the guy, but Tristan used to put him on a pedestal. The man couldn’t do any wrong. Tristan thought Mark had the rocker attitude he wanted to emulate. I tried to warn him, but he didn’t listen to me.”

  Izzie nodded. “All that, but he also had a violent temper and hung out with a vicious crowd.”

  “The Crips’ drug dealers? I thanked my stars that was the one thing Tristan did not try to copy.”

  “That didn’t work that well for me, although I really just sank into the drugs after Tristan left me. I had a serious case of death wish even after I learned I was pregnant with Arthur.”

  “Wait a second. You’re telling me you regretted choosing Mark over Tristan, so you started on drugs? Is that it?”

  “I’m saying I did not choose Mark. At all. Period.”

  Lilly’s slack-jawed expression gave Izzie pause. She waited for the older woman to process the information she just dumped on her. “What the fuck, girl?”

  A grin spreading across her face, Izzie replied, “There’s so much I need to say to you. Let me backtrack to that night Tristan walked in on me and Mark, and thought we were having an affair.”

  8

  Tristan

  “I mean, who the hell does she think she is? You remember the wreck she turned me into, right?” Tristan glanced at Noah, sprawled on the couch wearing a deadpan expression. Noah gazed back at Tristan, who resumed burning a hole in their rug as he paced its length. The sight of nonchalant Noah did nothing to improve Tristan’s mood. “Right?”