“That’s hard to believe, especially given your relationship with Whitney.”
It was a struggle not to say something flippant in response, but he needed her to trust him in this moment. One moment of trust could lead to hundreds and hundreds of moments, and that was the goal.
“I sent her away not long after you left my townhome.”
Her rose-colored lips puckered. “You did? I—”
The door banged against the wall. “Oh you are a bold one, Tristan Lawson.”
He sat up in bed, and Lemon did the same. The book on pregnancy slid between them. Unsure of how much Apple knew, he hastily covered it up.
“You can’t just burst into my room like this,” Lemon said sharply.
“And you can’t just let any man into your room, Lemonade,” Apple replied.
Lemonade? He’d never heard her called by that particular nickname.
“Isn’t it my duty as a McCoy woman to entertain any man who catches my eye?” Lemon shot back.
He should say something. His presence shouldn’t cause trouble between sisters. After all, women didn’t come between him and his brothers.
“I’m leaving,” he said, grabbing his boots and pulling them on, before quickly tying them. Standing, he moved to the door.
Apple narrowed her blue eyes at him and stepped to one side. Yeah, now she moves out of my way.
“Always a pleasure, Apple.”
“You wish,” she said, and he rolled his eyes.
“Lemon, could you show me out?” he asked.
Lemon scrambled to her feet and sailed past her sister. Grabbing his hand, she led him down the stairs.
Her fingers were cold, small, and shook a little.
“Everything will be okay,” he said quietly as they stopped by the front door.
Apple stood at the top of the stairs, her arms crossed. She tossed her long, blonde hair and glared at him. Honestly, he had no idea why she disliked him so much. It seemed to go beyond the bond of overly protective older sister.
“How do you know?” Lemon asked, capturing his attention once more.
He dipped his head and lowered his voice even more. “Because we’re getting married tonight.”
“What? Where?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“South Carolina. I have a buddy down there that officiates weddings. He’ll help us with the license, then we will get a hotel in Wilmington.”
“Say good-bye, Lemon,” Apple said sharply.
“Say yes, Lemon,” he insisted.
Tears glistened in her eyes, and her lip quivered. Fuck. She was going to say no. Once again, her family was—
“Yes.”
“Good.” He kissed her hard on the mouth. A show of both possession and desire. He wanted Lemon for his own, and it was past time he claimed her. “Either way, be ready for me at two. That gives us enough time to plan, pack, and for you to send Apple on her way. Tell her whatever you want to get rid of her.”
Tristan smirked at Apple. Damn, that woman was a piece of work.
Lemon nodded.
“I will call the cops on you, Tristan Lawson, if you don’t leave right this instance,” Apple threatened.
She couldn’t do a damn thing to him, and they both knew it. Lemon had invited him over, but he didn’t want to be the cause of more pain.
“Be strong,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” Lemon whispered right before she closed the door.
Rubbing his hands together, he jogged to his truck and got inside. His plan was perfect. Now, all he had to do was keep convincing his soon-to-be wife that he could be trusted.
Chapter Seven
Lemon shut the door and turned to face her sister, wishing she were properly dressed to do battle with her.
“Mind explaining what that was all about?” Apple said, still standing in her position of power at the top of the stairs.
Unwilling to be intimidated, she took the stairs at a sedate pace. “Tristan and I were talking.”
“Looked like a lot more than talking was going on.”
“He brought me soup.” Lemon brushed past her sister. As long as she acted as though nothing were wrong, then Apple would have to back down.
“Why?”
“Because I wasn’t feeling well today.”
“How would he know that?”
“I told him.” Lemon stepped inside her room and hurried to her bathroom to turn on the shower. After a few seconds, she stepped inside and let the water run over her.
“The two of you are friends now?” Apple asked as she walked into the bathroom.
“Not exactly.”
“You’re sleeping together?”
“No.”
“Well, the two of you looked very cozy together.”
“I’m a McCoy—it’s what I do best.” Lemon lathered up her hair, then washed the rest of her body before rinsing off. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted me to be? Mark broke up with me, and for a while, I was upset, but now I’m not.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“What if Tristan Lawson makes me happy?”
“Tristan Lawson could never make a McCoy woman happy.”
He had certainly made Lemon happy in the past. Eight weeks ago, he’d even made her forget her own name. The man was talented, beyond talented. Oh sweet Lord... What if Apple and Tristan had—she swallowed—slept together?
“Are you an authority on Tristan?” she asked lightly. Inside however, she wanted to scream the question at her.
“I’m an authority on men, sister dear. He’s no good for you—never has been and never will be.”
Lemon glanced over her shoulder at her sister. Apple leaned against the sink, her gazed fixed on the wall. She didn’t look guilty, but then again, Apple rarely felt guilt about anything she thought or did.
“You can stay in there until you turn into a prune, but I’m not leaving until you agree with me.”
With a sigh, Lemon cut off the shower and grabbed two towels, wrapping one around her body and the other around her hair. “Agree with you about what?”
“This friendship with Tristan. It has to stop.”
“Done.” After tonight, she wouldn’t be friends with Tristan. She would be his wife. “Mark is coming to dinner at the club tomorrow evening. I’m expected to be there as well.”
“Oh, good.”
“Good?” Lemon gave her a puzzled look. “He dumped me for another woman.”
“And now he regrets it, as he should. As if anyone could compare to you.” Apple tapped her on the nose. “He’s a lucky man to have you back.”
Her jaw dropped. “I’m not getting back together with him.”
Apple laughed. “Not right away, of course. Making him work for it is a good plan.” She shook her head, a beautiful smile on her face. “I cannot wait for the re-engagement announcement. The two of you are going to make the front page of the lifestyle section.”
Rather than argue, Lemon smiled blandly. “Thank you for stopping by, but I have things to do.”
“I bet you do.” Apple winked. “Practicing with Tristan for Mark—make sure he sees the two of you together while he’s visiting town. Jealousy is an amazing aphrodisiac.”
In Lemon’s opinion, jealousy wasn’t ever amazing, but there was no doubt in her mind that Mark would see her and Tristan together. “I will.”
“If there ever was a signature McCoy move—that would be it. I’m sorry I ever doubted you, little sister.” Apple blew her a kiss. “Text you later.”
Lemon didn’t bother replying. Her sister didn’t need one, not now that she was satisfied the status quo had been restored. Except, the status quo would soon be in disarray again—as soon as everyone found about the baby and her marriage.
Tristan opened the front door, and found Lemon standing there, one hand raised, as if he’d caught her before she could knock.
“What are you doing here?” Way to go, dumbass. Couldn’t he have just said he was happy to s
ee her? No, that was reasonable, and today had him all jumbled up inside.
She had him all jumbled up inside, but that was a regular thing.
“Sorry,” she said, dropping her arm and frowning. “I couldn’t wait for you any longer, so I came here.” She took a step back. “I can leave if you want.”
His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and dragging her inside. “Stay here. We can leave sooner than planned.” Letting go of her, he shut the door. “Give me a couple minutes to finish packing.”
“All right.” She stood there, making no move to go further than the foyer.
“You can have a seat,” he said.
“I’m fine.” She glanced around, unable to meet his gaze.
“Something wrong?”
She shook her head, and then nodded. “The last time I was here...it didn’t end so well for us.”
“This time is different,” he insisted. “Would you be opposed to moving in with me?”
A small smile curved her lips. “Do I have any other choice?”
“Always.”
She raised a brow. “You want to live at my parents’ house? Because that’s the only other choice I have.”
“No.” He touched her cheek. “Thought you could live here while we searched for a new place.”
Her pretty eyes rounded. “You did?”
He shrugged. “My townhouse isn’t really outfitted for a wife and baby. One bedroom down and two more upstairs.”
“You’ve thought about that?”
“Is that so surprising?”
“Yes. Most men wouldn’t be contemplating appropriate housing or finding a way to get married quicker, they’d be... they would be—”
“Doing the opposite?” he supplied and she nodded. “Sweetheart, you know I’m a Lawson, and when we’re all in, we’re all in.” He moved to his bedroom. “Nothing will stop us.”
“Oh,” came her faint reply.
He wasn’t sure if he had made things better or worse with his declaration, but it was the truth. His brothers were perfect examples of that—they saw, they pursued, they fell in love... they got married.
“Did you tell your sister?” he asked, grabbing the folded pile of clothes from the bed and shoving them into a dark blue carryon duffle, then followed that with his shaving kit, which was always packed with everything he needed for a trip.
“Only Skylar knows—well, not about what we’re doing right now, but everything else.”
He zipped the suitcase up and walked to the living room. “Mason does, too. I told him after you and I talked yesterday.”
“I guess that’s a good thing since they’re engaged and all,” Lemon replied. “It’s not good for a couple to keep secrets from one another.”
On that, they agreed, but he wasn’t sure if that comment was directed at him. “Ready to go?”
Nodding slowly, she took a deep breath. “My things are in my car. I thought we could drive that instead of your truck.”
“You don’t want anyone to spot your car at my place again?”
She flushed, a charming shade of pink that he knew would reach her breasts. “I don’t want rumors to spread.”
He laughed. “You don’t think us getting married won’t cause rumors.”
“Well, yes, but we’ll be married when they do.”
He couldn’t argue with her logic, mostly because he didn’t understand it. Instead, he held out his hand and said, “Let’s go.”
When she laced her fingers though his, he almost punched the air in triumph. “Are you sure about this?” she suddenly asked.
“I am. Are you?”
“I-I don’t have any other choice,” she said simply, and just like that, his victory went straight into the jaws of defeat.
He gave himself an internal shake. There was no way he was defeated. He was a Marine. He’d survived a war. It was time to remember that and act accordingly. “Maybe you don’t, but I do. I’m choosing to marry you. Think whatever you like about me, but that’s the damn truth.” With that, he opened the front door and carefully ushered her through. “Give me the keys.”
“It’s already in the ignition,” she answered.
“Great,” he said through gritted teeth.
Once he’d helped her in the car and shoved his suitcase in the trunk, he started up the sleek Mercedes and hit the outskirts of Jessamine in twenty minutes flat.
She turned up the volume of the radio, effectively preventing him from saying another word. Or maybe she was afraid that they’d fall back to their default of arguing and trading insults.
Hell, the only time they had gone longer than a day without doing that was when he was deployed. However, five years had passed since then. Five years’ worth of bickering and finger pointing.
He exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. It was true that Rome wasn’t built in a day, but he could at least try to have a conversation with her.
Turning down the volume, he said, “Did I ever tell you why I joined the Marines?”
She glanced at him. “No.”
“Always wanted to be a good guy. Mason and I constantly pretended we were fighting in wars and saving the princess.”
“I never wanted to be a beauty queen. Don’t tell anyone, but I hate beauty pageants,” she said, and he almost drove off the road.
“Are you serious?” He glanced at her, then back at the road. She certainly looked serious.
“The only reason I ever entered any pageants in the first place is because that’s what the youngest McCoy daughter does.”
“The oldest Lawson usually becomes a farmer, but Adam became a preacher instead.”
“Were your parents upset?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think so. Besides, Caleb has taken over most of the day-to-day operations. I think he was born with bio-diesel for blood.”
Lemon laughed softly at that. “I remember when Caleb dated Apple. That was such an odd match.”
“They dated?” Tristan asked.
“Yes, for a couple of months. After Apple broke up with him, he started dating Iris.” Lemon grew silent for a moment. “She was such a beautiful person, inside and out. I can’t imagine how much it hurt to have the love of his life taken away so abruptly. So senselessly. There was no one to blame.” She sniffed. “Just her stupid seizures.”
Tristan had forgotten Lemon had practically grown up with Iris. The dark-haired beauty had become a part of the Lawson family when she and Caleb had gotten married at nineteen. Only six months later, she was killed in a freak accident caused by a seizure. Her car had run straight into a large tree. The airbag had deployed, but she’d died from a heart attack. Her poor body hadn’t been able to take the trauma.
His brother hadn’t been the same since. Maybe one day, he’d find someone to wake him up again.
“When anything bad happened while I was at...while I was deployed, you immediately came to mind every time,” he said, changing the subject. The last thing he wanted her thinking about was the death of a woman she once knew.
“Thanks?”
He shook his head. “Not like that. You were my good thing. My happy thought when everything went to hell.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“We’re sharing, so I shared.”
“Since we’re sharing, can you shed any light on why my sister dislikes you so much?”
“McCoy tradition?”
“We will be the first McCoy and Lawson to actually marry, you know,” she said. “Grandmother McCoy said that our rivalry made the Hatfield’s grudge look like child’s play, but she always had a flare for the dramatic.”
“It feels good to break tradition, go against what everyone expects us to do, and be ourselves,” he said.
“Yeah...actually, it does.”
“Tonight, you’re going to become Mrs. Lawson. What do you think of that?”
She cut her eyes to him. “I think you have no idea what you’re in for.”
Oh, he had an inkling...
if eight weeks ago was any indication of the desire and passion she felt for him. She’d been damn near insatiable, and he’d been more than willing to fuck her senseless.
He grinned and stepped harder on the gas. “I look forward to you showing me.”
Chapter Eight
He’d touched her hand when passing her the room key. That was the only excuse Lemon had as to why her skirt was hiked to her waist, her panties were on the floor, and Tristan’s head was buried between her thighs, his tongue exploring every inch of her.
Licking. Flicking. Teasing. Tasting.
She let out a moan and grabbed his hair, pulling him closer. Her breasts were heavy and aching. Her nipples were hard points that were being abraded by the lace cups of her bra.
A long finger entered her, then another, and then a third. She let out a shuddering cry. He sucked hard on her clit and curled those fingers of his. With a gasp, she came, seeing stars and calling out his name until it became a whispered chant and her vision returned to normal.
He continued to lick her, eat her...feast on her as if he had all the time in the world, while she sagged against the glass door that led to the balcony like a rag doll. Anyone walking along the beach could see her bare behind if they looked up, but for once in her life, she didn’t care what anyone saw or thought.
“I want to be in you now,” he said, kissing her inner thighs and taking away his magical fingers. “I need to be in you.”
Standing, he finished unbuttoning his pants and shoved them down his legs, his boxer briefs quickly following. Her eyes widened with appreciation at the sight of his thick erection.
He gave her a confident smile, one that bordered on a smirk, but before she could comment, he’d fused his mouth to hers and began to unbutton her blouse. Reaching inside, he unfastened her bra and cupped her breasts, rubbing his thumbs against her nipples.
She whimpered.
“You poor thing,” he whispered. “You’re extra sensitive, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Let me help you.” He dipped his head and took a nipple into his mouth, suckling hard. Each hot, wet tug a direct line to her clitoris.
One of his hands came around her, cupping her bottom and pulling her against him. He rubbed her sex against his cock and made her writhe, made her hot...made her shove at his shirt and pull it over his head, heedless of the buttons that needed to be undone.
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