“Who else do you like?” I giggle.
“Dan Brown, Clive Cussler, Lee Child, Michael Crichton, the list goes on.” He smiles, waving his hand in the air.
“Me too, Lee Child does the Jack Reacher books, right?”
“Yes, he does,” Tristan answers with his heart-stopping, deep dimpled smile.
That soulful feeling deep within me expands again, spreading through me; I swear it’s getting bigger by the day. It really feels like the more time I spend with Tristan, the closer I get to him. That never happened with Justin either, it always felt the same. Breathe Coral!
“Have you seen the Jack Reacher film? You know that one with Tom Cruise in it?” I ask, trying to ease the enormity of the moment.
“No, I haven’t actually.” He says, his head cocked to the side.
I swallow hard. “Me neither, want to rent it tonight?”
“Good idea.” He beams, inching towards me.
“You know what they say, great minds think alike.” I whisper.
Tristan leans closer and closer, I can feel his breath against my cheeks. I stop breathing, all I call feel is an overwhelming burning passion for Tristan bubbling under the surface. I lean even closer to his lips, and stare deeply into his warm brown eyes, I see no hesitation.
I close my eyes ready for the feel of his lips on mine – Bing! – The oven chimes warning Tristan that dinner is either ready, or something needs checking.
I open my eyes and see Tristan close his in frustration.It seems we are being held back by random events. I wish I had more confidence, I really want to kiss him, but I’m just not forward enough to just launch myself onto him, that just wouldn’t feel right.
“So what are you reading now?” I say pulling in a ragged breath as Tristan walks over to the cooker, turns over the roast potatoes and pops them back in.
“John Grisham’s, The Racketeer.” He answers thoughtfully.
“He’s really good too, I’ve read quite a few of his books. We seem to have a lot in common, don’t we?” I add sounding hoarse, so I pick up the water and glug a load back.
Tristan turns and smiles at me.“We certainly do,” he agrees. “Would you like a glass of wine?” He asks as he puts the beef on the side to rest.
“Please.” Tristan gets two wine glasses out of the cupboard – he looks so at ease in the kitchen – then he gets the rose wine out of the freezer, pops the cork and pours two ice-cold glasses. As he reaches the sofa he passes one to me.
“How did you know?” I say taking a sip.
“Know what?” He answers looking a little confused.
“That I...” Then it hits me, I don’t remember telling him that I like really cold wine, so he must like it like that too, I chortle and shake my head.
“What?” He questions.
“Nothing I just thought...you like your wine cold?” I question.
“Um...yeah, I...” His face drops.
“Relax, I do too.” I smile.
Tristan perks up again and takes a drink, I suddenly remember his present.
“Oh hey, I got you something,” I beam. “It’s kind of two presents in one though, a housewarming gift and a thank you for the air-conditioner.” Tristan’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. I put my wine down and stand up. “Stay where you are,” I order.
“Yes Ma’am.” Tristan puts his wine on the coffee table then leans back against the sofa.
“And close your eyes.” Tristan grins like a kid on Christmas Day, its pure joy to see.As I run up the stairs to get his painting, I suddenly feel really apprehensive. What if he doesn’t like it? Ok so I can say that first, that if he doesn’t we can exchange it.
“Ok, eyes closed?” I shout at the top of the stairs.
“Yes.” he chuckles.I carefully make my way back down the stairs. Tristan peeks with one eye.“No peeking.” I scold.His grin widens, he’s so cheeky.“So, I was thinking if you don’t like this we can exchange it ok? Above all be honest.” I tell him forcefully.
“Honesty is my middle name.” He assures me.
I stand in front of him holding the painting against my body. I almost decide to hold it up above my face so I can't see his expression, then I change my mind.
“Hurry up,” he says jigging up and down. “The suspense is killing me,” he adds. He’s really smiling now, his dimples deep. I swoon at him for a second then snap myself out of it.
I take a deep breath.“Ok, open your eyes.”
Tristan peeks with one eye for a tenth of a second, then both eyes burst wide open in what, shock, surprise, horror?
“E-type?” He says breathlessly.
“Um...yeah,” I answer glumly. “If you don’t like it, we can exchange it.” I repeat.
“Shut up…” He drawls staring up at the painting – Ok, maybe he likes it?A grin from ear to ear starts to spread across his face.
“You like it.” I say jumping up and down on the spot. Tristan looks up at me with wide eyes. I can’t quite read the expression on his face. Is it awe, gratitude, surprise?
“Coral, you shouldn’t have,” he gasps. “This must have cost’ – “Oh hush now,” I scowl. “It’s a double present anyway.” I whine. The last thing I want is him telling me is I can't spend my money on him.
“I don’t know what to say.” He answers softly, still gazing up at me with that look.
“Thank you would be nice.” I say dryly, cocking one eyebrow up.
Tristan stands, takes the painting out of my hand, places it against the sofa, and launches me up into the air and into his arms, swinging me round as he does.
“It’s perfect, just like you.” He whispers.
My mouth pops open. He thinks I’m perfect? He really doesn’t know me that well, must have rose coloured spectacles on!
He chuckles at my shocked expression.“I love it,” he adds excitedly.
“You do?” I breathe. “Yes.” He chuckles back, placing my feet back on the floor. We are face to face again, so I reach up and run my fingers through his hair; it’s so soft.
“I’m glad.” I croak. Breathe Coral, breathe!
Tristan closes his eyes, and leans his forehead against mine. It’s a heady feeling – literally. I’ve seen it happen in so many movies and shouted at the T.V for the couple in question to get on with it and kiss, but now it’s happening to me, I finally see the beauty in it. I see the romance, the longing, the passion, I close my eyes and melt into the moment.
“Coral,” Tristan’s voice is so low, it’s barely a whisper. I open my eyes and see he’s looking at me that way again, like he’s seeing straight through me. My breath catches with the intensity of the moment.“Tell me you want this?” He whispers.
I let out a ragged breath. “I want this, I want you.” I say stroking his cheek again. Tristan squeezes me harder against his body. I wet my lips in anticipation – Bing!
We both sigh loudly then burst out laughing – This is getting god damn ridiculous! – Tristan lets me go, shaking his head as he does – Grrrr, the irony!
“Hungry?” he asks checking the meal. “Because it’s ready,” he adds.
“Kind of lost my appetite now,” I say as butterflies are flying around like fighter jets in my stomach.
“Coral, you have to eat.” He softly admonishes.
“I know,” I whisper.
He walks back over to me and pulls me close against his body.“I really want you to eat something,” he says. “You haven’t eaten much over the past two days.”
“Well you probably haven’t either.” I argue.
“Good point, I haven’t had much, which is probably why I want to demolish this dinner.”
“You’re hungry.” I guess.
“Yes.” He says, smiling at me. I frown at the floor. “What?” He says lifting my chin with his thumb and forefinger – Be honest Coral.
“Don’t I have any effect on you? We nearly…and you…you just want to eat?” I stutter.
“You have no idea the effect you have on
me,” he whispers. “I’m hungry, for you and for food.”
Oh, bugger me that’s….that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever had said to me, I blink rapidly at him, I’ve lost the power of speech.
“So, shall we? If we leave it any longer it’ll be ruined,” he adds.
I nod my head in acceptance. “I’ll set the table,” I squeak.
“Marvelous! Shall I serve?” He asks, his playful smile is back.
“Yes.” I whisper.
Tristan walks back over to the kitchenette, while I pull out my tiny little fold up table and two chairs.Opening them up, I place them under the table, then I walk over to the kitchenette, bumping Tristan with my hip as I do, which he chuckles at. I open the draw, and pull out two placemats, coasters and two sets of knives and forks.
This feels really weird. I, of course, normally pull out just one, unless Bob eats with me, but he prefers to eat alone. I smile as I place them opposite each other, then I pick up our wines and place them on the table too.
I stop for a moment and take stock of how natural this all feels, Tristan serving up dinner after a lazy Sunday afternoon walk, me setting the table; it feels like we’re a real bona-fide couple that’s been doing this forever. It feels so god damn good to eat a meal with someone, so nice.
Tristan has done a magnificent job. We have Roast Beef with Yorkshires, Roast potatoes, mustard mash (my favourite) a vegetable medley of broccoli, kale and peas and roast carrots and parsnips, topped with delicious thick gravy, this could out-do Gladys’s roasts.
There are three delicious plates laid out, and the portions are perfect. Not too over-loaded like Gladys’s, she thinks I’m skinny and need fattening up. So after many arguments, she now lets me serve up my own plate, even though she always rolls her eyes at my small amount.
“Wow, good job.” I say beaming up at him.
“Why thank you.” Tristan grins sexily at me, making me lose my train of thought for a second.
“Um…I’ll take Bob’s round to him.” I pick up one of the plates. “Oh careful with the table, it’s a bit rickety,” I tell him as I walk out the patio door, moments later I am back. Tristan has placed our plates on the table and is sitting down waiting for me, how gentlemanly.
“You waited.” I beam as I sit down.
“It’s good manners to wait.” He says taking a sip of wine.
“Your grandparents taught you well,” I say, then regret it. I doubt he wants to be reminded of them. I take a big whiff of the meal and my appetite comes back with a vengeance. “Mmm smells delicious.”
“Cheers.” Tristan raises his glass, I pick up mine and we click glasses.
“Cheers.” I take a sip, place my wine down and start eating. “Dig in Tristan, don’t let it go cold,” I add. I’m so used to eating on my own, that I don’t think anything of it as I munch away without any conversation, until Tristan’s chuckling brings my attention back.
“What?” I ask feeling as though I’m blushing.
“I just had a flashback of you eating that muffin,” he chuckles, filling his fork back up again.
“I was mortified you caught me.” I confess, cringing inside that he’s brought that up.
“I know you were, that was half the fun of it.” His eyes twinkle wickedly.
“Tristan!” I scold.
“I know it’s bad, right?” He chortles.
“I’ll get you back.” I gripe sulkily.
“Doubt it.” He answers, his eyes sparkling some more. I have to smile back. It feels as though the moment I see his smile, my face automatically reacts and smiles along with him…
WE LAUGH, TEASE AND TALK our way right through dinner, the time actually flies by. What felt like five minutes was actually an hour.
“Want to put this film on?” Tristan asks pouring us both more wine. I feel so content, full belly, no nose pain, and a gorgeous man named Tristan to ogle at for the rest of the night.
“I’m not fussed.” I say dreamily, taking another sip.
“Good. Because I have a surprise for you.” Tristan gets up and switches the oven back on.More food?
“Tristan, what are you doing?”
“Oh, you know in the supermarket we were comparing puddings?”
“Err...yeah.” I say sceptically.
“Well I snuck one in,” he says, grinning like a naughty school boy.
“Tristan,” I moan. “Seriously?” I sigh heavily in resignation. “Healthy diet, window gone,” I grumble, then I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re not pulling a Gladys on me are you?” I question.
“What’s a Gladys?” he says sneaking something into the oven.
“She’s always saying that I’m skinny, but I don’t think I am, do you?”
Tristan shakes his head at me.“It wouldn’t bother me what weight you were Coral,” he says, sitting down opposite me.
“That’s not an answer.” I huff, feeling annoyed.
“Ok, I think you look amazing as you are. If you lost weight, I would be worried you had an eating disorder, if you gained weight it wouldn’t make any difference to how I feel about you. But you probably do look very slim to Gladys, she’s pretty plump.” He says cheekily.
“Not as plump as she was,” I mumble to myself. “So you bought a pudding to surprise me, not fatten me up?” I finally let the grin spread across my face.
“Precisely,” he says sipping more wine. “Happens to be my favourite too you know. It’s was my Grandmothers speciality,” he says smacking his lips together – I wish he wouldn’t do that, they already look tantalizingly good!
We gaze at one another, the atmosphere charging with electricity again. Tristan leans forward and takes my hand.
“So is it safe to say I can ask you out on a date?”I frown.“Is that a no?” He smiles cheekily, his dimples deepening.
“No, it’s not a no. I just hate that word.” I grumble.
“What word?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.
“Date.” I say taking a gulp of wine. “It has so many hidden implications,” I sigh.
Tristan frowns. “I really want to wine and dine you Coral, spoil you rotten.”
I lean back, take my hand out of his and run it through my hair. “I don’t need you to do that.” I argue.
“Then what do you need Coral?” He asks his expression serious.
“Tristan, I think we’re past all that kind of stuff...I think it’s quite evident how we both feel.” I frown even harder, hearing myself say that out loud is weird.
“Tell me what you want?” He says huskily.
“This is nice.” I whisper placing my hand back in his.
Tristan’s eyes darken as he rubs his thumb over the top of my hand. “Yes, it is,” he agrees. The oven chimes again, pulling us both out of the little bubble that seems to surround us...
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I AM SAT BLOWING COLD AIR onto my steaming bread and butter pudding. I really want to dig in, but it’s just too hot.
“Your turn,” I say to Tristan.
“My turn?” He questions.
“Yes, tell me about your upbringing and your Grandparents.”
Tristan shrugs. “There’s not much to say really.” I roll my eyes, but I can see it’s not really something he can easily discuss. Tough!
“Ok, I’ll help. Where were you raised?” I ask cheerily.
“Maidenhead,” he replies.
“Ooh, very nice,” I answer playfully.
“You?” I cock one eyebrow up at him. “I mean before you came here,” he adds.
“Somerset,” I grumble.
“Ever been back?” he questions. I decide not to answer that one.
“Hey, this is meant to be my twenty questions.” I argue, Tristan grins. I can see what game he’s playing but it won’t work.“So did you go to your Grandparents, or did they relocate for you?”
“No, they had lived in Maidenhead all their life, so it was logical for me to stay with them.” I nod as I listen to his reply.
“So how old were your Grandparents when you went to live with them?”
“Granny was fifty, Gramps was fifty-five.”
I shake my head in amazement. “I bet they didn’t think they’d be doing it all over again at their age.” Then I realise how awful that sounded. “Sorry,” I whisper. “That didn’t come out right.” I scowl in frustration at myself.
“It’s ok,” he frowns. “It hit them pretty hard when my mother died, of course I was a newborn, I had no idea. But they said having me, helped them both deal with it. You know lost a child gained a grandson.” I nod solemnly.
“So what was it like being raised by the previous generation?”
“Good mostly, they were very kind, patient people.” I can tell it’s still painful for him to talk about them, I can see it in his face, although he’s hiding it well.
“Tristan, I’m sorry, this must still feel so raw to you, we can talk about something else.” I offer feeling guilty.
“No, no, it’s ok really. I miss them, but I also like remembering them too. You can ask me questions about them.” He prompts.
I smile tentatively at him and continue. “What was it like growing up an only child?”
“That was difficult at times, but again my Grandparents were really open, honest people, they didn’t hide anything. They would talk about their past, their mistakes. So if I got something wrong, or I didn’t know how to deal with something, they were always there for me with open arms, they never judged me.”
“They sound like they were awesome,” I say smiling as I do. Then I frown wishing I’d had that kind of start in life.
“With that kind of stuff they were,” he says trying to hide something, but I’m getting to know him better, I can see through his facade.
“So what were the negatives Tristan, there has to be some?”
“There were, but they weren’t bad enough to make it so my childhood seemed traumatised.” He bites – Was that a dig at me? Ouch that hurt!“Damn it Coral, I didn’t mean…” Tristan sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair. “I…I was bullied....a lot.” He picks up his wine and takes a large gulp.
“You were?” I squeak in surprise, he’s such a tall, big, manly man. I can't imagine him ever being bullied.
Darkest Fears Trilogy: Fallen For Him / Freed By Him / Forever With Him Page 34