by V. Vaughn
Ashton shakes his head. “I only know what you tell me, Isabelle.” He hands me a towel. “Maybe someday, you will.”
The cotton is rough against my face as I wipe away sweat and tears. I offer a wry smile and jump up to my feet. “We’ve got time for a sparring match. You up for it?”
Ashton gives me his version of a grin. “Bring it.”
Chapter 32
Annie
I’m on the Internet searching guest cottage layouts when Tristan gets home. I’m so engrossed that I don’t get up, and when his hands land on my shoulders, I jump. He leans down and kisses my neck. I say, “Do you like the looks of this?” I tilt the screen of my laptop so he can view images of a beach-house-inspired kitchen.
“Vacation home?”
“No. I was thinking your mother might like it.”
When I met Tristan for lunch this morning, I didn’t mention my plan to research building his mother a house of her own. I wanted time to think about the idea. Now I hope it’s a good decision.
He says, “She’s staying here.” Tristan walks over to the freezer and pulls a bottle of vodka out. The stopper pops when he yanks it out, and a glass clinks on the counter.
“She doesn’t have to.” I turn in my chair to face him. “I can afford to build another house for her, and then we can have our privacy.”
Tristan takes a sip of his drink and closes his eyes. I’m not sure if he’s trying to find words or if he’s had a rough afternoon. When he opens them, he stares at me for a moment before he says, “My mother does not like to be on her own. She stays here.”
From what he’s told me about the elder Mrs. De Rozier, I don’t think she’s going to like me, and I don’t relish the idea that I’ll be living in my home with a woman who makes me uncomfortable. But Tristan seems firm on his stance, so I say, “Fine.”
I do tolerance well, and I bet Tristan will want her gone before I do. I say, “The Lupine Room will be ready for her. Do you know what time she’ll arrive?”
“I’m picking her up in Portland tomorrow afternoon. We’ll be home for dinner.”
“What should I cook?”
Tristan sighs and holds the chilled glass up to his forehead. “I don’t want to talk about her. Can we discuss it tomorrow?”
“Sure.” I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his waist to lay my head on his chest. His shoulders relax as he slips an arm around me and pulls me tight. He downs the glass of vodka, and I imagine the burn in his throat. I speak telepathically. “You can tell me anything.”
“Did I mention the children are coming, too?”
“What?” I pull away and glare at him. “I’m not ready.” I put my hand on my forehead as I start to pace. “We need beds, and their room isn’t painted, and—” Panic makes my pulse quicken, and I stop to look at Tristan. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“They’re just kids. They don’t need special things.”
I frown before it hits me. He and Isabelle were always an afterthought, so why would he think his children should be any different? I walk back to my mate. “Oh, Tristan.” His face has the beginnings of stubble, and his cheek is rough against my palm when I place it on his cheek. “I’m going to shower them with love and give them the childhood you should have had.”
Tristan’s eyes glisten, and his hand is warm over mine as he pulls it from his face. “Annie, my love, I don’t deserve you.”
“Of course you do. Don’t you realize the gift you’re giving me? Children, Tristan—the very thing I thought I would never have.”
His lips turn up the slightest. “You don’t get it. My kids are no gift.” He holds up his hand as I open my mouth to speak. “Tell me what you think in a week, but for now, don’t be grateful, because our love is about to be tested by my family.”
I grin at him. “You forget I’ve met Hurricane Isabelle.”
He allows me a small chuckle. “She’ll seem like a gentle rain after you meet the rest of them.” He pulls me back into an embrace. “Let’s have dinner on the porch and enjoy the stars.” He gazes down at me. “It will be the calm before the storm.” He kisses me, and I taste the rich flavors of spice in his vodka before they give way to the familiar sensations of my true mate.
While I season the steaks, Tristan opens a bottle of red to let it breathe. I’d be concerned about his drinking, but he went for a run after his earlier cocktail, and I’m glad he chose exercise to relieve his tension. I smile as I think about the other workout we had when he returned. While he continues to warn me about his feral offspring, I can’t help my excitement. I’m about to have three five-year-olds giving my home the activity of a family.
The meat slaps on the platter, and I say, “You haven’t told me if you have boys or girls, and I want to know their names.”
My mate’s mood is positive, and he says, “Girls. Eva, Echo, and Ellie.”
“Goodness. I was expecting boys with harsh Nordic names that make me spit when I say them.”
Tristan’s eyes twinkle. “You mean like Satan and Lucifer?”
“Exactly.” I hand him the steaks and a large spatula. “You have no idea how much fun I’m going to have with little girls.”
Tristan kisses the top of my head. “If anyone can tame them, it’s you, my love.”
While he steps out to the back porch to grill, I rinse off the fiddleheads I picked up from a roadside stand. I’m going to sauté them in lemon butter, and I nibble on one as I walk over to the fridge to get the ingredients.
I fantasize about the summer days full of trips to the lake, going out for ice cream, and learning to ride bicycles. Maybe we can install a playground for all the children in the De Rozier clan. Butter sizzles in the pan, and I turn down the heat as I squeeze in lemon juice. Even though I’m anxious to get things ready for the girls, I know Tristan needs tonight to be all about us.
When he comes inside, I grab the bottle of wine and hand it to him. “Let’s toast to finding each other. Because you continue to make me happier every day.”
Wine gurgles into the oversized goblets as Tristan pours, and I toss the greens into my sauce before I take my drink. He says, “To finding the woman who makes me fall in love all over again each day.”
“To finding the man who makes my dreams come true.” Our glasses clink, and the acidic taste of vinegar accosts my senses when I take a sip. I turn to the sink to spit it out at the same time Tristan does, and the contents of our mouths splatter. “Ugh.”
“It’s gone bad,” says my mate.
“Let me go get another bottle.” I grimace as I roll my tongue around my mouth to clear the unpleasant taste, and I jog down the stairs. The air in the basement is cool, and I entertain the thought of making a playroom down here for the polar bear children who are sure to find our summer too hot.
When I return, I say, “Let’s try this again.” I notice the empty bottle on the counter. “You poured it out?”
“Yes. There’s nothing you can do with it once it’s turned.”
I nod, because I would have done the same thing, eventually. Although I probably would have entertained another way to use it first. “I suppose you’re right.”
Chapter 33
Annie
Breakfast at the house that used to be my home is strange. Especially when I come in to help cook, and things have been moved around. Utensils rattle in a drawer as I search for the tongs I like to use for bacon.
Carly hands them to me. “Here. Sorry, I haven’t been very good at keeping things up to your standards.”
I wave my hand at her as I move over to the pan that pops with sizzling pork. “It’s your kitchen now.”
“Maybe so, but you had it organized with precision, and I’m ruining all your systems.” She bumps my hips with hers. “And we really miss your cooking. I don’t like not having you here.”
“I miss you, too.” I turn to her so I can see her reaction. “Guess what’s arriving at my house this afternoon?”
The waffle maker be
eps, and I remove golden-brown squares to place them on a plate. I grin at Carly. “Tristan’s mother and three five-year-old girls.”
My sister-in-law squeals. “Triplet girls? Oh my gosh, Annie, you’re going to have so much fun.”
“I know. I can’t wait. Only I’m going to have to scramble to get things ready for this afternoon, because Tristan only told me last night.”
“How strange.” Carly’s spatula scrapes against the pan as she loads a bowl with eggs. “Why the secrecy?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. But I think it might have to do with his past. Either that, or he was trying to ignore it.”
“Huh?” She hands me a plate for the bacon. “Well, in any case, let me know what I can do.”
Mother breezes into the kitchen like a gust of wind. “Triplet girls. Goodness, Annie, you’re going to have your hands full.”
Carly laces her words with a hint of sarcasm, “Good morning, Donna. Was that your way of offering to help?”
I chuckle, because I have every intention of employing my mother.
“I adore children. You know that.” Mother places the teakettle on a burner, and the gas starter ticks as she turns it on. “Just let me know when I should come by.”
I say, “I’m not sure what we’ll need to do for care when they get here, but I suspect we’ll have a wardrobe shopping trip. Summer’s going to be quite the culture shock.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Carly says. “Living on a glacier must be cold year-round. I bet all the humans will be a bit overwhelming for them, too.”
“Do you suppose they’re feral little beasts?” Mother is joking, but maybe only a little. Isabelle’s temper tantrum when she blazed a new trail in our woods left quite the impression on her.
“Stop,” I say. “They’re going to be lovely little girls who need a little TLC. You’ll see.”
Carly hugs my shoulders with an arm. “Well, you’re the woman to do it. Nobody has a bigger heart than you do.”
Brady has entered the kitchen, and a cabinet clicks as he opens it to get a mug. “What’s this I hear about little girls? Are Tristan’s kids here?”
“They’re coming today.”
“Wonderful. I can’t wait to meet them.”
Carly says, “I know what we should do. You should come here for a barbecue this weekend.” She winks at me and turns to Mother. “I’m sure Donna’s dying to meet your mother-in-law-to-be.”
Mother snorts. “I’d rather have a root canal. I’ve heard she’s a bitter woman.”
“Mother.” My tone is stern. “We don’t know that.”
“While I applaud your ability to always see the best in people, I’m afraid you’re in for some difficult times, dear.” The teapot whistles, and she removes it from the stove. “But every one of us is here to help. Just say the word.”
Keith and Ashton come through the back door, and they’re laughing when they enter. Mother walks in front of them to go sit with her tea and says, “Good morning, gentlemen.”
They say in unison, “Donna.” I grin when they try to cover whatever they found funny with boyish smiles.
Keith notices the basket of bear claws Carly made and grabs one. “I love these things.” I watch the happy version of my friend and smile. While the loss of his mate, Taylor, will haunt him forever, he’s making progress, and it’s nice to see.
Voices are loud and cheerful as everyone loads up a plate and settles down to eat. I take a moment to reflect on how wonderful the leadership of the Le Roux clan is. Much of it is due to my mother’s insistence on our weekly breakfasts to maintain our close bonds. I hope I can nurture the same thing when I become prima of the De Roziers.
Brady catches my eye and communicates with me. “What are you thinking over there?”
“I’m giving thanks for this and hope I can turn my new family into the same loving environment.”
“Deep thoughts. But don’t worry. You have a knack for this.”
“Thanks.”
I take my place at the table, and my astute mother asks, “Keith, rumor has it you have an adorable co-ed intern working for you. Seems she’s putting a little spring in your step these days.”
Keith is used to my mother’s teasing and takes it in stride. “Tori’s made me realize I should let the career placement office at Orono know I’ll take interns. Her enthusiasm is contagious.”
“Tori?” Carly asks. “Is she still dreaming about you?”
Keith shrugs and puts a forkful of food into his mouth.
“My, my. Be careful—we don’t need her heart broken,” says Mother. She frowns. “I should get a bead on Delia’s boys.”
“Nothing’s going on,” Keith says. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. She’s like a little sister to me.”
“Hmpf,” says Mother. “I’ll bet. You’re probably having the same dreams.”
One of the characteristics of the call we put out was that the two to be mated would experience dreams that predicted their future, and we discovered they were often the same sexy fantasy for both participants. Keith’s cheeks flush pink, and he clears his throat. “She has a boyfriend.”
Mother lifts her teacup and speaks over it. “I don’t suppose you know who the boyfriend is? Is it a Le Roux?”
Keith shrugs and shoves food into his mouth.
Brady takes pity on his best friend and changes the subject. “Ash, how’s Isabelle’s training?”
“Good. She’s a gifted warrior.”
“Excellent. I thought we might use her for the mission to Southern Maine. We need to rein in the rogue clan before trouble with humans breaks out. The reports I’m hearing aren’t good.”
Ashton taps the side of his head. “She’s not ready.”
I frown, wondering what he means, even though I think he’s talking about her anger-management issues. I glance at Ash, and he holds my gaze as if he’s trying to tell me something. I make a mental note to ask him about it later.
But first things first. I’ve got Le Roux business to get through and a new family to prepare for. I sip my coffee and smile with my excitement. A new chapter in my life is about to begin, and I can’t wait.
Chapter 34
Isabelle
I push mashed potatoes around on my plate with my fork. Ever since Tristan let me know my mother’s coming, I’ve lost my appetite. She should be here by now, and dread is a lump in my stomach as I wait for my brother to insist I see her. Luke’s talking about something, but his voice is white noise. A cool hand on my arm startles me, and I glance up into his face. “What?”
“You haven’t heard a word I said. What’s wrong?”
“My mother’s in town.”
Luke doesn’t know much about my past, but he does know that my father is dead and that I don’t get along with my remaining parent. “Have you seen her?”
“No. But I’m sure that’s temporary.” My fork is loud when it crashes against the plate.
“Would you like me to go with you when you do?” Luke picks up the bit of potato I splattered on the table and sets it on the side of his plate.
He’s so sweet. If only I believed he could actually protect me. “Maybe. But you’re going to meet her at some point, because she’s moved to Maine.”
“Right. She’ll be living on the land the Le Roux gave your family.”
I nod and reach for my glass of wine. Suddenly, the need to get numb is strong, and I try to be discreet about drinking half the glass by taking a large mouthful. Luke has mentioned he thinks I drink too much, and I don’t want his judgment.
“So where will she live? With your brother?”
“Um-hmm. And I’ll be summoned when she’s ready for me.”
Ever since the day I broke down with Ashton, memories have been flooding my mind. I’m reliving incidents of my parents’ cruelty in my nightmares Things I’d forgotten, and I haven’t been getting much sleep.
My bear is unhappy, too. She’s always at the surface, wanting to get out, and I’ve had to r
un every day to keep her calm. Otherwise...
I reach for my glass again and lift it to my mouth. I take another large mouthful and wonder if the tannins in the red wine stain my tongue the color of blood.
“Hey, where did you go?” Luke asks.
I shake my head. “Nowhere.” I paste on a smile and reach for Luke’s arm. “Tell me about your day.”
He frowns. “I just did.” He lifts my hand and threads his fingers through mine. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Izzy? You’ve been distant for days now.”
“It’s nothing.” I turn away to avoid his gaze.
“It’s something.” Luke grabs my chin and turns my face back toward him. “I know you’ve been having nightmares. Jumping out of bed and locking yourself in the bathroom to cry doesn’t hide them from me.”
I pull away from his touch and grab my wine glass to empty it. “I don’t need your pity.”
Luke sighs. “Izzy, you’re in pain, and I want to help.”
I get up and grab the wine bottle. “There’s nothing you can do.” I fill my glass again and walk over to the couch to sit nestled in the corner. I let the overstuffed cushions cuddle me.
Luke walks toward me and lowers himself slowly on the sofa to face me. He growls, “You underestimate me. There’s a lot I can do. Tell me who’s causing your nightmares, and I’ll take care of it.”
I’m not sure what Luke means, but for a moment, I’m tempted to ask him if he can put a hit on my mother. But I shake my head, because I don’t need her death on my hands. My past already haunts me. “I wish it were that easy.”
“Do you want to talk to somebody? I have resources.”
“You mean a shrink?” I gulp down another mouthful of alcohol. “I’ll be fine.”
“So you’re just going to drink yourself into a stupor and pass out until your horror wakes you up again?” Luke stands up and glares at me. “Great plan.”
I tilt my glass at him. “Works for me.”