Unrequited

by Kimberly Dean

  Reaching out, she grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face her. “Come on. Spill! I never pictured that in Cliff, but I guess it’s like they say. It’s always the quiet ones. I bet he was trying to make up for that dinner.”

  Trista felt like a little rowboat being tossed about by the tide. She couldn’t stop her friend’s momentum, until she realized what Kelly had just assumed. “Cliff?” she squawked, her eyebrows lifting to nearly her hairline.

  Her friend’s face froze almost comically. “No?”

  Trista used the time to get away. She shrugged off Kelly’s grip and determinedly turned back towards the counter. With a spurt of frustration, she flung her spoon back into the pudding bowl and reached for a paper towel. Why couldn’t she have a better poker face? She wasn’t ready for people to know what had happened. She still needed to figure things out for herself.

  Kelly wasn’t about to be dissuaded. “But you did have sex. If it wasn’t Cliff, who was it?” she demanded.

  Trista wiped up the spilled pudding and tossed the paper towel into the trash. Stiffly, she moved to the sink to wash her hands. She didn’t look at her friend as she returned to her cream puffs. Concentrating as if it were dynamite she was handling, she began replacing the tops one by one.

  “Tell me,” Kelly said.

  “No.”

  “No? But…But…You have to!”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Her friend looked as if she might burst. When the bell over the front door of the shop jingled, she did. “Shit!”

  Throwing her hands into the air, she stomped over to look at who was interrupting her inquisition. “It’s Ty,” she said, going still. “And he has flowers.”

  Her head snapped to the side, and Trista was pinned where she stood. Shit!

  Kelly’s eyes bugged out and her jaw dropped. It took a moment, but she finally managed to silently mouth, “Oh, my God!”

  Trista slowly closed her eyes. She wasn’t ready to deal with him. She wasn’t ready to deal with this. She couldn’t handle being the center of another scandal. The public divorce had been bad enough.

  When Kelly finally got her voice back, it came out as an excited squeal. “OH. MY. GOD!”

  Trista began to shake. One catastrophe at a time. Right now, she’d rather deal with Ty. “Can you watch things?”

  “Are you kidding? Get out there!”

  Trista wiped her hands down her front and realized she was wearing her apron. Quickly, she tugged it off.

  “Hairnet,” Kelly hissed, pointing at her head.

  Trista straightened herself as well as she could. Before she walked through the doorway into the front room, though, she took a quick peek at the stainless steel toaster to see how she looked. For as excited as Kelly was, Trista was just as nervous.

  She’d hurried out of the house this morning. Snuck out, actually.

  Ty didn’t have to work on weekends, but she did. Admittedly, her job had been a convenient excuse. Waking up in the bright morning light and finding herself tucked up against his big, naked body had been disconcerting.

  Delicious, but disconcerting.

  Daylight just illuminated things more starkly. Things that she’d managed to ignore in the darkness were now bright, bold, and demanding attention.

  Everything had changed. Everything.

  Nervously, she rubbed her hand over her stomach. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Her emotions had been on a roller-coaster ride ever since she’d first made eye contact with him at the bar. When she thought about the two of them together, she alternated between excitement, fear, desire, and dismay.

  Last night, he’d made her feel things she hadn’t felt for a long time.

  Today, though, there was no getting around the fact that he was Denny’s brother.

  “Hurry up!” Kelly said.

  Trista took a shaky breath. There was no point in dragging this out. She summoned her courage and stepped into the front room. One emotion immediately jumped to the forefront and shoved the rest behind.

  Desire.

  It hit her hot and hard.

  Ty seemed to take up most of the room. He looked so big and yummy, her knees went weak. Reaching out, she grabbed the glass display case. They made a decent income on the local snack crowd, and her ex-brother-in-law definitely looked interested in something sweet.

  He just wasn’t looking at the cookies.

  “Hi, gorgeous,” he said in a low, rumbling voice.

  His gaze swept leisurely down her figure. Cooking in the summertime was hot business, so Trista did what she could to stay cool. Suddenly, though, her tank top seemed too skimpy. Her shorts too short. It was the bar all over again. Her nipples peaked hard, tenting the fabric of her top, and the tingling sensation in her stomach plunged lower.

  “Hi,” she whispered.

  He headed towards her with that walk that construction workers seemed to have patented, and she swallowed hard. What was she going to do about him?

  “Busy?” he asked.

  She glanced over her shoulder. Kelly was back there listening! “Yes,” she said, telling the truth.

  “I won’t take much of your time.” His look was smoky as he leaned against the counter and held out the flowers. “You just ran out so fast this morning. I wanted to see if you were okay.”

  “I’m fine.” She shuffled her feet uncomfortably and concentrated on the flowers. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

  She took the bouquet, but glanced at him in surprise when she smelled a familiar scent. “Lilacs.”

  Unbelievably, his look became even more intimate. “I’ve suddenly developed an affinity for them.”

  A dangerous sense of weakening came over her. “Ty,” she sighed.

  “Have dinner with me.”

  She looked at him mutely. This wasn’t fair. Yesterday, dinner would have been no big deal. Today, it was huge. Today, it carried so much more with it—and she still wasn’t sure what her answer was supposed to be.

  “Are you crazy?” came a stage whisper from the back room. “Say yes!”

  Trista looked at Ty helplessly.

  “Listen to her,” he said in that low, rough voice that sent shivers down her spine. “Don’t worry so much, baby.”

  “I can’t handle this pressure,” she whispered.

  “No pressure. We’ll keep it casual—go back to the Blue Moon, if you want. You can wear jeans, and I’ll teach you how to play darts.” He reached across the counter and slid his hand around the back of her neck. “I just want to spend time with you, Trista.”

  He was nearly impossible to refuse. Still…“You won’t expect…”

  “The night will end up wherever it ends up.” He tugged her closer until her lips almost brushed against his. “I’ll be honest, though. I’m voting on the bed.”

  He kissed her then, long and slow. She didn’t fight. She couldn’t. He’d broken down all her barriers last night.

  Besides, the warmth building inside her was comforting. Drawn to it, she stepped closer until her toes bumped up against the base of the display case. He tilted his head to a different angle, and the kiss suddenly became seductive. Carnal. Trista felt her breasts start to ache, but then he was slowly pulling away.

  “Tonight,” he said, breathing hard.

  “Tonight,” she agreed, sagging against the countertop.

  “I’ll be at your place,” he said as walked backward to the front door. He winked at her as the bell overhead jingled. “I’ve got a lawn to mow.”

  Trista was still frozen in place when Kelly came out from the back room. They stood side by side, watching as Ty’s truck pulled away from the curb and headed down the street.

  “My God, is that man beautiful.”

  As much as Kelly despised his brother, Ty was at the top of her A-list. “There’s more to a man than looks,” Trista said quietly.

  “And that one’s got everything a woman could want,” her friend said, shooting her a look. “But don’t sta
nd there sagging against the cookie case and tell me that he doesn’t make you melt.”

  Trista blushed. “He does have that big, tough, construction worker thing going for him.”

  “Yeah,” Kelly said. For a moment, they both paused to stare sightlessly midair. “And to think that you were going to give him to me.”

  The twinge of possessiveness was fiery and pure—so much so that it surprised Trista with its intensity. “He had other ideas on the matter,” she said tightly.

  “Obviously.” Curious, Kelly propped her hip against the counter. “So what happened?”

  Trista bit her lip. There was no hiding it now. Besides, she could use a friendly ear. “He was at the bar last night.”

  “And he saw you with Cliff?” Kelly’s face became animated. “Oh, Lordy. I would have paid to be a fly on that wall. I take it that jealousy finally pushed him over the edge?”

  Trista could feel the tips of her ears burning. That was the understatement of the year, considering the way he’d come barreling through her front door. One word, though, caught her attention more than anything else. “Finally?”

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks nobody is watching.” Kelly nodded to the bouquet of flowers and sighed with envy. “Wow. Romance and great sex. You are one lucky gal.”

  Trista glanced shyly again at the lilacs. They called to that soft spot inside her, but she’d built armor around her heart for a reason. “Am I?”

  “Hmm?” Kelly said absently.

  “Lucky?”

  Her friend went still. “What are you saying?”

  Trista cautiously traced the edge of the plastic wrap that surrounded the flowers. Did she need to point out the obvious? “He’s Denny’s brother.”

  “So?”

  She looked steadily at her friend. “So am I a fool to get involved with another Christiansen man all over again?”

  Kelly took a step backward. “Oh, my God. Did Denny do a number on you.”

  “I’m serious,” Trista said. “What are people going to think? What are they going to say?”

  “Uh…That the two of you are great together? That you should have gone for him before you went for that baseball lothario?”

  “Kelly!”

  “Who cares what they say?” Her friend’s eyes narrowed. “Denny Christiansen cheated on you in every National League city across the country, Trista. He’s probably making his way through Japan as we speak. He’s a loser with a capital L. Ty’s the real catch, and you know it!”

  She slapped her hand down on the counter, making Trista jump.

  “Don’t be a fool. Follow your heart and grab that man.”

  The plastic wrap crinkled as Trista’s grip tightened convulsively. “But what if I don’t know what my heart’s saying?”

  “Then figure it out. And fast!” Kelly let one eyebrow rise. “Or I guarantee you’ll regret it.”

  Five

  Trista woke up to the smell of breakfast drifting in from the kitchen. A bed had never felt more comfortable, but the enticing scent was enough to pull her out of a sound sleep. For a moment she lay on her side with her legs tucked up to her chest. It was still early. Too early, really. She loved waking up this way, though, feeling all light inside. Happy.

  Her lips curled into a smile. She and Ty had been together for nearly three weeks. She’d done well to heed Kelly’s advice—although she still didn’t have all the answers she needed. At the moment, she didn’t care.

  Slowly, she rolled onto her back. She tried to stretch, but her legs caught in a twisted sheet. Lifting her head, she saw how disheveled the room was. The morning sun highlighted the rumpled bed, scattered pillows, and even the cockeyed bed stand. Her body ached in all the right places, and she blushed at the memory of how little they’d actually slept last night. Despite the discomfort, though, she felt energized and ready to face the day.

  Other than the fact that she was starving.

  “Food,” she murmured.

  The lure of bacon and eggs became too much. Knowing Ty would soon be in to get her, she kicked the sheet aside and sat up. Every time he did that, their breakfast got cold. Or burned. Her robe was lying in a hot pink heap on the floor. Reaching down, she swiped it up and hurried to the shower.

  The quick rinse washed the last of the sleep from her eyes. Feeling excited but still a bit timid, she dried off and pulled on her robe. Things were still new between them. The intimacy was shocking at times, but it made her feel good. Wanted. After Denny, she hadn’t known if she’d ever get her self-confidence back.

  Well, she didn’t have that problem anymore, she thought with a smile.

  She tied her robe around her naked body as she trod down the hallway on bare feet. When she came to the kitchen, though, she came to a complete stop.

  “Wow,” she mouthed silently.

  There wasn’t much that looked better than Ty Christiansen in the morning.

  Her knees went weak, and she leaned her shoulder against the kitchen archway. His hair was damp. He must have showered in the master bathroom, because she hadn’t heard him at all. He’d pulled his jeans on, but his feet and his chest were bare.

  She couldn’t help but stare. Just looking at that chiseled back made her fingers itch.

  He glanced over his shoulder, spatula in hand. He caught her staring and their gazes locked. Heat unfurled in her belly. He looked like he wanted to devour her.

  “I knew that hot pink number would give me a hard-on in the daylight.”

  She blushed. Without a word, though, she walked over to him. It felt so natural the way his arm wrapped around her waist. He held the spatula away from her as she went up on tiptoes and kissed him. The moment their lips touched, the heat in her stomach dropped lower. She’d never been big on morning sex, but he was quickly helping her change her mind. She could feel her body revving.

  Giving in to temptation, she caressed his chest. The muscles felt like hot marble. His tight nipples perked up under her touch, and she boldly leaned forward to lick one. A growl of satisfaction left his lips.

  Unfortunately, it was answered by one from her stomach.

  One of his eyebrows lifted. “I’ll try not to take that as an insult.”

  “Sorry.” She smiled weakly and backed away. Her stomach didn’t let up.

  He chuckled and ran a hand over the top of her head. “How about sustenance and then sex?”

  Her face flared. “You do that on purpose, don’t you?”

  He grinned. “You look so sexy when you get shy, I just have to.”

  He was too devilish for his own good. She pushed him away, but his offer of food couldn’t be ignored. She looked into the pan with a critical eye. “What are you making?”

  Seeing he’d teased her enough, he backed off. “Omelets.”

  Her mouth watered. “That sounds good.”

  She was impressed with his handiwork. The bacon was draining on a plate covered with a paper towel. Beside the stove was a package of shredded cheese, a bowl with chopped green peppers, and another with…onions.

  She stared. “You didn’t put any of those in there, did you?”

  “What? These?” Reaching out with his spatula, he gave the onions a little stir. “They’re good.”

  “But you know I don’t like them.”

  “Oh, come on. They’re good for you.”

  She was still looking at the spatula. He was using it to push the omelet around in the pan. “Ew. You’re getting onion juice on my eggs. Stop!”

  A wicked look entered his eyes. Watching her closely, he pinched some onion out of the bowl and took a bite. “Mmm.”

  She winced. “Gross!”

  He leaned towards her. “Gimme a kiss, baby.”

  She shrieked and scurried away. “Stay away from me, onion breath!”

  He caught her anyway. She pressed her lips together tightly and tried to turn her head. He was impossible to resist—even with the taint of onions. His tongue rasped into her mouth, and she for
got all about her aversion to Vidalias.

  He was grinning when he pulled back. “Your omelet is on the table. No onion juice, I promise.”

  She swatted at him. “That wasn’t funny.”

  “Sure it was.”

  She rolled her eyes. The brute. She only kept the icky things around the house because he liked them on his hamburgers. See how funny he thought it was next time they grilled out and there weren’t any in the crisper drawer.

  She made a face at him and grabbed the plate with the bacon. He scooped up his omelet, put it on a plate, and followed her to the table. Humor was still in his eyes, but so was intimacy when he sat down next to her. “Feeling okay this morning? We got kind of crazy last night.”

  She shifted on her chair. The shower had made her aware that her body was more sensitive than sore—especially when her sudsy hands had drifted down low. With the sunlight spilling into the room, there was no hiding her reactions from him. “I feel good.”

  He caught her hand and quickly kissed her palm. “Me, too.”

  The look they shared was private, but he pulled back. “Go ahead. Eat before it gets cold.”

  He’d put the lid from the frying pan over her plate. She set it aside and found a golden omelet with cheese melting temptingly out of both ends. Tentatively, she used her fork to open it so she could peek inside.

  He was already digging into his food hungrily. “What is it with you and onions?” he asked between bites. “You’re a caterer. You must use them all the time.”

  “That doesn’t mean I have to eat them.” Satisfied that he’d told the truth, she tried a bite. She groaned in delight. It was perfect.

  At ease with each other, they ate in silence. That wasn’t to say they weren’t communicating. The way his bare foot kept brushing against hers was distracting, and the looks that crossed the table were positively scorching.

  She was starting to suspect that when he’d said “sustenance and then sex,” he hadn’t been joking.

  Finally, there was nothing left to eat. Trista looked under the paper towel with one last ray of hope. She saw a tiny piece of bacon that had broken off from the others, and she pounced. She felt Ty’s hot gaze watching her as she lifted it to her lips.