Darkest Fears Trilogy: Fallen For Him / Freed By Him / Forever With Him

by Clair Delaney

  Switching on my MP3 player,I plug it into the new player Tristan bought for the kitchen and scroll through my albums. I decide on Barry White’s Greatest Hits, his songs are about love, and that’s exactly how I'm feeling right now – very, very loved up!

  Can’t Get Enough Of Your Love Babe starts playing, Barry doing his little speech at the beginning, then the beat comes in and he starts singing.I can't help moving my body, dancing and singing along to the tune as I try and find where Tristan has hidden all the kitchen equipment we bought today.Finally finding what I need, I take all the food out the fridge and start doing my thing.

  Five minutes later, I have the fish poaching in the oven, so I start on cutting up the potatoes to parboil them. I stop for a moment and take a look at my surroundings.I absolutely love this kitchen, this house and Tristan...oh Tristan...

  Laughing at myself, I turn back to preparing the potatoes. As I put them on the boil, Barry starts singing You See The Trouble With Me. I sing away, knowing all the words, thinking of Tristan the whole time, how he makes me feel, how crazy I am about him.

  Preparing the vegetables, I put them in the steamer ready to be done for a few minutes before the meal is ready, then I prepare the crusty topping for the fish.Knowing I have some time before I make the sauce for the fish, I pour myself a glass of wine and have a little dance around the kitchen.

  The track changes again, Never Going to Give You Up starts playing, I get lost in it and slow my body down, moving in time to the beat, singing along, slowly swaying my hips from side to side…I love dancing, I miss dancing…Maybe we should all go out when Rob’s back?

  I open my eyes to take sip of wine only to find Tristan standing five feet away from me, his jaw nearly hitting the floor, a look of shock and awe spread across his face.I stop dancing and smile shyly, feeling a little embarrassed he caught me – Boy he looks good, he’s back in his black sweats and another white vest – I want him again right now!

  Tristan’s eyes darken, then taking me by complete surprise, he smiles his most sexy, panty combusting smile and starts dancing towards me.My mouth pops open in shock as he closes the distance between us – Oh my God, Tristan can really dance, who knew? He looks so fucking sexy!

  Placing my wine down, I join in with him. His wraps his arms around my waist, crushes me to him and we grind, sexily in the middle of the kitchen…Holy fuck!

  Then Tristan leans down, singing in time with Barry...“I'm never, never gonna give you up,” his voice is really quite good. “Whatever you want, girl you got, and whatever you need, I don't want to see you without it.” Tristan carries on like that, singing to me.

  Is there anything this guy isn’t good at?

  The timer beeping on the cooker makes us both stop and turn around. I smile up at Tristan, reading my thoughts he lets me go. I walk over to the music and turn it down a little, opening the oven door I check the fish, it’s ready for it’s crusty topping.

  Ok, I need to get rid of Tristan. I don't want him in the kitchen while I cook, I won’t be able to concentrate, and I want to surprise him. Opening the fridge, I pour him some wine and hand it to him.

  “Thank you for the dance sexy but you need to go,” I say.

  Tristan takes the wine and gazes down at me.“Do you have any idea how sexy you look when you dance like that? It should be illegal,” he says. “Especially in those little shorts.”

  I look down at myself. I'm wearing my dark blue P.J cotton shorts that I normally sleep in. Ok, they fit really snugly, and I know they show of a bit of my butt too, but I knew I’d probably get hot cooking in my sweats. I did not think Tristan would think I look sexy in them– at all!

  “You’re looking pretty hot too baby. Now go!” I chuckle.

  Tristan doesn’t move. He just stands there staring down at me, teasing me with his sexy smile. I try and push him out of the kitchen, giggling as I do.Tristan starts chuckling at me, because I'm not making him move very much, it’s like he’s made out of iron or something.

  Putting his wine down he grabs me by the waist, and crushes me against his body, then he leans down and kisses me, passionately, his tongue battling with mine. His moans of pleasure are making my blood pressure feel like it’s spiked, I lose all thoughts.

  Pulling back from me as quickly as he grabbed hold of me, he steps back panting as heavily as I am. Whoa!

  I gaze up at him, trying to think what I was doing before he kissed me like that. Tristan looks a little bewildered too. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts…what was I doing? Dinner, yes, that’s what I was doing, cooking a meal!

  Moving closer to him, I pass him his wine peck him on the lips,then walk away, trying to get my head together so I can finish off this meal...

  THE MEAL IS READY. So I call Tristan through to the kitchen, he’s been searching for a film for us to watch later, not that I think we’ll watch it, I think we’ll be screwing like rabbits. My stomach fills with butterflies, just thinking about having sex with him is enough to stop my heart beating for a second or two.

  I decided to set up the new kitchen table, rather than eat at the breakfast bar; it looks nice now it’s ready for a meal. Alicia Keys starts singing If I Ain’t Got You,just as Tristan makes his way over to me. I swoon at himfor a secondthen quickly snap myself out of it – He’s going to think I’m a complete lunatic!

  “Here.” I place Tristan’s plate of food in front of him, trying to ignore how sexy he is and how gorgeous he smells.

  “Wow!” Tristan looks shocked.

  “What?” I chuckle sitting down next to him with my plate.

  “This looks amazing Coral.” I smile shyly and pick up my knife and fork. “I’m serious this looks like Michelin star food.” I frown at him, but I can see he really means it.

  I look down at the meal I have cooked, a meal I’ve done I don’t know how many times, thinking it doesn’t look that special, but to me it’s easy, cooking seems to come naturally to me.

  “Now you’re being silly,” I choke.

  “No Coral I’m not. Care to tell me how many Michelin star restaurants you’ve eaten at?”

  I take a sip of the cool, crisp white Chardonnay that Tristan has poured and shrug.

  “I thought so. I’m telling you, this looks Michelin.”

  I place my wine down and look at the meal again. I’ve made Sea bass, which I lightly poached then roasted with a crusty herb topping and placed on a bed of wilted Spinach, which I have served with diced and roasted salt and pepper potatoes, steamed asparagus, long stem broccoli, and a garlic and lemon butter sauce –Simple!

  “Ok then, it looks Michelin,” I retort, scrutinizing the meal.

  “Damn right it does,” he croons then leans towards me, “thank you baby.” He puckers his lips for a kiss.

  I giggle, lean forward and peck him on the lips.Then I watch as he carefully fills his fork up with a little of everything, finally dipping it in the sauce, and then placing it in his mouth.

  His eyes widen as he slowly chews, then he starts to shake his head – Oh No! I’m sure the fish was cooked right through?

  “What’s wrong?” I say my voice a little wobbly as I try to hide the panic.

  Tristan swallows then gazes at me, his eyes going all soft and warm and crinkling at the corners, he leans in to kiss me again, his dimples on full wattage.

  “That tastes amazing,” he tells me, brushing his lips against mine. “Almost as good as you,” he adds, his eyes darkening.

  I almost choke on my own spit – Did he really just say that? I am speechless.

  Tristan grins deeply at my shocked expression and turns back to his food.“Wow!” he says taking another bite.

  “You’re making me feel self-conscious.” I say as I fill up my fork with fish and sauce.

  “Sorry,” Tristan looks guilty for like a split second. “But this really is good, yet again you surprise and amaze me. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

  “I didn’t. I’m self-taught.” Trist
an gapes at me.“What? You don’t believe me?” I scowl.

  “No no, that’s not it. You really taught yourself?” He says, slightly bewildered.

  “WellGladys taught me the basics, and her meals have always been pretty much the same, you know meat, potatoes and veg. It’s all I ever ate growing up, so I guess it kind of went from there.” Tristan still looks astonished as he continues to eat and drink his wine.

  “That’s fair enough Coral but how did you get from that to this?” He questions pointing at his plate.

  “When you’ve got a lot of time on your hands...” I sigh heavily remembering how I felt back then. “I guess it all started when I got the studio. I was bored...a lot of the time, so I kind of got into cookery shows, you know, Master Chef, Hairy Bikers, that kind of thing. I liked watching them, they were the only thing I could watch that took my mind off things, gave me something to focus on. I guess I just...if I really liked the look of a certain dish, I’d get the ingredients and attempt to cook it, only I kept finding that it would always work out fine first time round. Bob was my taster, I thought he was biased, but now you’ve said that...maybe not.” I ponder.

  “So you’re a natural,” he says his eyes sparkling.

  “Yeah…I...I g-guess,” I stutter feeling quite astonished that he likes it that much.

  “What a lucky bastard I am,” he chortles.

  “Yes, you are,” I say shocking myself. That was confident for me.

  “Yes, I am,” he croons, leaning in for a kiss. I peck him on the lips and smile.“Did you study cookery at school?”

  “No. I couldn’t concentrate for very long on one subject, not unless I was fascinated by it.”

  “What were you fascinated by?”

  “Science, Physics, Art. I had a lot of energy too, so I played a lot of sports, only…” I break off remembering how bad I was, how many fights I started and ended.

  “Only what?” he questions.

  I sigh inwardly. “I was in the Netball team and we used to have matches against other schools, and well, if they cheated or tried to get one of our players sent off…I’d kind of lose it…” I say, cringing inside.

  “Lose it how?” he asks evidently intrigued.

  “Fighting Tristan. I was a very angry, highly volatile, scared young girl ok. Now, can we change the subject?”Tristan has frozen like a statue, his fork halfway up to his mouth, a deep frown etched across his forehead – Great, I better say something, get him off the subject.

  “So what fascinated you at school?” I ask.

  He places the food in his mouth, still lost in thought, then after a couple of minutes he comes back to me and shrugs.“I wouldn’t say I was fascinated by any of it really. I just knew that I wanted to make money, somehow?” he says.

  “Why? I mean why money?” I ask.

  “Because I hated not having what I wanted when I wanted it. Don’t get me wrong, my folks were awesome, they showered me with love and affection and that you can’t buy. But it gets a bit much when you have to keep walking past all the shops with the new clothes, the cool clothes, only to be taken into charity shop after charity shop...” Tristan trails off, lost in thought.

  “They tried their best, I know they did, but I couldn’t stand having to have second hand clothes. The second hand shoes and trainers however were much, much worse. God they would stink to high heaven. I remember asking for a new pair of trainers for Christmas one year, Gran actually said ok, but I couldn’t have anything else as they were so expensive. Which I was happy with, just that one present, but come Christmas Day, I find I have new trainers, only there the really geeky ones that you just know you’ll have the crap beaten out of you for wearing. I didn’t get my Nike’s, I was gutted.”He stares out the window, he looks like he’s remembering something painful, then he turns back and smiles at me, then eats more of his food.

  I smile hesitantly back at him, wondering what that must have felt like.

  Tristan continues. “I guess it kind of went on like that you know,Gran constantly saying no to me. Like if I asked for something nice to eat in the supermarket, like a packet of liquorice or a chocolate bar, I would never get it,” he says, his cheeks flushing red.

  “So that’s what pushed you to want to make money?” I guess.

  “Yes, and wanting to take care of my folks in their old age.” Tristan stares down at his meal for a moment.

  “Which you did,” I say proudly.

  “Yeah, they were pretty healthy, happy, and well taken care of. So yeah, I guess I did achieve that goal, but what about you baby, what was your dream?” I shake my head in response.

  “I didn’t have a dream,” I answer my voice low.

  Tristan gazes down at me.“No dream?” He asks quite astonished.

  “No. Why? Should I have had one?” I say, frowning back at him.

  Tristan chuckles at me.“You’re having me on,” he says. “Come on Coral, we all dream about being something when we’re young. Fireman, policeman, nurse… you know all that kind of stuff.” I shake my head at him and shrug my shoulders – I honestly don’t see what the big deal is.

  “What was yours?” I ask, taking a sip of my wine.

  “Well, when I was about four I said Postman Pat, because he had a car, which I thought was really cool.” I raise my eyebrows at him. “My folks never had a car,” he clarifies.

  “Really?” I say, astonished.

  Tristan shakes his head, frowning deeply.“Always the bus,” he says, a slight edge to his tone.

  “I liked Postman Pat too,” I say trying to pull him out of his reverie.

  “When I got a little older and the teachers asked again, I said ‘a man in a suit’.” He adds.

  I chuckle at Tristan. “Why did you say that?”

  “Because when Gran used to take me into town, on the bus, I would watch all these men in suits with nice cars, going about their business. They had shiny shoes, shiny suits and shiny cars. Whatever they were doing, I wanted to do it too,” he says firmly.

  Wow, he was so determined from such a young age!

  “Guess that kind of makes sense, and you certainly reached your goal,” I take a deep breath. “I know we haven’t known each other that long Tristan, but I’m really proud of you, of what you’ve achieved. I imagine it takes a lot of guts and sheer determination to get where you are today. I hope you feel proud too?”

  “I do,” he smiles, then leans forward and kisses me again. “And thank you, it’s nice to know you feel like that,” he says, tenderly stroking my cheek. “But you haven’t answered my question?” he adds.

  I go for a change of subject. It’s something I’ve been thinking about since this morning.

  “Can I drive your car tomorrow?” I ask.

  Tristan gazes at me in disbelief.“My car?” he asks swallowing hard.I don’t think he likes the idea.

  “Uh-huh,” I take another forkful of food.

  “Yes...yes of course you can. I didn’t know you wanted to drive it…I…” Tristan narrows his eyes at me. “Nice change of subject,” he scolds –Crap!

  “I tell you what, you answer my question and you can drive it anytime you want. In-fact, if you like it I can buy’ – “Stop!” I take a sip of my wine. “You were going to say buy me one, weren’t you?”

  “Yes.” Tristan beams, his eyes sparkling.

  I shake my head at him. Not that conversation again!

  “So why no dream Coral?” he repeats.

  “I did have a dream,” I answer quietly, gulping back the rest of my wine. Tristan is watching me, waiting for his answer – Crap! I want to drive that car, so I guess I better tell him.

  I sigh heavily, close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

  “My dream was to have a loving, caring family,” I whisper so quietly I wonder if he actually heard me. Opening my eyes I see him staring back at me, his expression torn, he looks nauseous, but now he’s got me going on the subject, so I feel like I should explain it to him.

 
; “They were always arguing, fighting, there was always something breaking or being smashed. I lost count of the amount of times I hid under my bed because I was never quite sure if my Dad would lose it one day and hit me, or Kelly would find me. Or I’d hide under the duvet with the pillow over my head to try and drown out the noise, the constant shouting...” I look down and see I’m mimicking my actions, pulling the duvet over my head.

  “That was before it got really bad. So when the teacher asked me, I would always say I wanted to be a roller skater, because it was the only thing I had that got me out of the house, away from the noise – you finished?” Tristan nods.

  In a huff, I pick up our plates and storm over to the kitchen sink – I hate remembering the past – and blast the water over the empty plates.

  “I’m sorry.” I turn and see Tristan leaning against the breakfast bar, giving me some distance. He looks awful, like he’s riddled with guilt for bringing it up.

  “Fuck!” I let the cutlery clatter to the bottom of the sink, walk overto him and wrap my arms around his torso, resting my head on his chest. “I hate talking about the past,” I croak.

  “Yeah, I’ve kind of gathered that,” he says, his arms enveloping me.

  “Then why do you keep bringing it up?” I choke.

  “I’m sorry baby, I had no idea you were going to say that, at all! I thought you would say you wanted to be a princess or a nurse, you know stuff kids say. Really baby, I was not expecting that.” Tristan rocks me gently, soothing the pain away.

  “Christ!” I squeeze my eyes shut trying to push the demons away that are lurking in the forefront of my mind, just waiting to come and get me again.

  I can't wait for more Hypnotherapy!

  “You’re scared?” Tristan guesses.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “What of?” he asks, his voice low and husky.

  “Let’s just call him the boogie man.” I say by way of explanation.

  “The boogie man?” he says, his voice deep.

  “Yeah…nightmares.” I twist my head and lean my chin against his firm, muscular chest.“Did you really just say I can drive your car tomorrow?” I ask, beaming up at him.