Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3)

by Natalie Barnes

  What in the fuck?

  “What do you think?” Tristan asks almost nervously beside me.

  Still staring at my car, my eyebrows pinch together in confusion.

  “Wh-what’s this?” I wave in the general direction of my car parked in the driveway.

  Turning to face Tristan, he’s looking down, trying to suppress his smile.

  “A house,” he cockily answers back.

  Rolling my eyes at him, and not in a playful way this time, I glare up at him. Huffing out a breath, he rolls his neck across his shoulders, clearly irritated at my reaction. Well, what the fuck does he expect?

  “I bought us this place to have something a little more comfortable and out of the way when the baby is born.” My face drops as I glare from Tristan’s impassive face to this nice house. “Say fucking something.”

  Tristan’s voice is low behind me. I’m just staring at this really nice house, unable to comprehend what’s really going on.

  “Why?” I whisper more to myself than him.

  “I just told you why. I wanted something bigger and in a nicer neighborhood for when we come out here.”

  Aw, my. Part of me wants to stay pissed that he did something so major without talking about it with me. But seeing Tristan fucking Scott get all family oriented… Shit, I’m speechless. My eyes begin to water as I look over the put together yard, almost being able to see our child playing around outside.

  Tristan begins massaging my tense shoulder. Bringing his chest up to my back, he whispers in my ear.

  “Wanna check out the inside?”

  I lay my hand over Tristan’s hand that has been kneading the tension out of me, nodding my head yes. Tristan excitedly pulls away and gets out of the car. He’s just rounding the car when I open my door slowly and get out.

  I’m still shocked that he bought this place.

  “When did you do all of this?”

  “Everything was finalized about a week ago. I had Lux get a hold of a moving company to get your car out of storage and brought here yesterday.”

  Tristan laces his strong fingers around mine as he leads me up the path and onto the porch. This huge guy standing in front of an almost cookie cutter house is a sight. Tristan’s energy is defiantly high right now. I smile up at him and he lets go of my hand to pull out the keys.

  “It’s going to be bare. I didn’t know if you were gonna be into it or not.”

  “What if I wasn’t?” I ask suspiciously.

  Tristan pauses and smirks down at me, his eyes getting that dangerous darkness to them.

  “It wouldn’t have fucking mattered.”

  “Excuse me?” I laugh.

  Tristan opens the door wider for me and places his hand on the small of my back. As I walk through the door, I suddenly pause as I take in the large, airy room with the kitchen to the rear. A large marble fireplace is off on the right, which I’m guessing must be the living room. Sun pours into the room through the tall glass windows.

  “It has three bedrooms and four baths. Has a pretty sweet pool and fire pit out back,” Tristan says behind me as I walk farther inside.

  “Holy shit,” I mumble under my breath.

  This place is so beautiful, but I hate that I feel kind of guilty that Tristan is doing this because I’m pregnant. Like maybe he wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t, or ever, for that matter. I know he loves me, but guilt still nips at me.

  Tristan wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side as he leads me over to the kitchen. My mouth drops again when I check it out. Cooking in here would make me feel like I should be recorded for one of those cooking shows.

  Same as the front room, it’s light and airy with marble countertops. The island has a cook top and single sink built right in, which still leaves tons of space. With the mixture of modern, stainless steel appliances and the light color cabinets, it has a country chic vibe. You almost need something with extra hominess to get a breather in here.

  Tristan shrugs while combing his fingers through his hair.

  “I don’t really know too much about decorating, but I figure Frankie would just love to help you with that,” he says dryly, giving me a half smirk. Little shit.

  “He would. He would also love the ten percent I would pay him for all the long hours,” I tease back.

  He says nothing, but makes this fake horrified expression. Tipping my head back, I laugh at him as he takes me to see the upstairs.

  After checking out the house, Tristan brings in our bags and orders pizza while I soak in the tub. The warm water washing over my sore muscles feels so freaking good. Forgetting to tie my hair back, half of it sticks to my back whenever I sit up. The muffled sound of my phone playing Papa Don’t Preach by Madonna suddenly comes out of my bag. Huh? Frankie probably added that on there.

  Leaning over the side of the cast iron tub, I stretch my fingers out to reach for the straps and finally tug it toward me. Grabbing it by its sides trying not to drip water on it, I raise it up to see who’s calling me. Should’ve known from the ringtone Frankie set... it’s my parents.

  What a dumbass, I laugh to myself. Sliding my finger across the screen, I tap the speaker button with the tip of my finger. Don’t want my soaking wet hair to ruin it. These damn things are so sensitive and I still don’t have a case for it yet.

  “Hey, what did you find out?” I answer the phone.

  “Babygirl!” My dad’s voice booms through the line, spreading my smile further across my face. “How the hell are ya?”

  Ah…

  “Good.”

  “I got your mom and me on tomorrow’s flight. Don’t really feel like flying on Christmas Eve. If that’s all right with you, hun?”

  “Of course, Dad, but you should’ve told me before booking. I was gonna cover it.”

  Aw my.

  “Don’t worry about that, Sophia. We’re just happy that you actually have Christmas home. Well… home in the States, anyways,” he chuckles.

  Scanning the bathroom, I smile at the idea that this is my home in L.A. now, and it feels right.

  “What time do I need to come get you?” I squeak into the phone, unable to hold back my excitement.

  Even though I gotta drop some heavy news on them, I’m still so happy that my parents will be here.

  “Hold on, babygirl.” His voice fades from the phone and I hear clicking sounds going on. “Looks like we should arrive around noon your time.”

  “Awesome! ” I say, nodding my head. “Can’t wait to see you.”

  “Same here. Going to have to let you go now. Told your mom I would take her to Target or Shopko, whatever. She needs to get a few things before we leave tomorrow.”

  He didn’t sound too thrilled about going shopping. He can’t really complain, though. My mom is hardly the shopping type. Probably to pick up something for Christmas, or maybe, something for Tristan. Shit, do they even know that I’m spending it with him?

  Just as I am about to tell my dad that, he says, “I’ll call you tomorrow to let you know which gate. Good night, babygirl.”

  Fuck it.

  “Good night Dad. Love you.”

  “Love you too, Sophia.”

  Dropping my phone on top of my bag, I scoot back, causing water to rush up my sides. Resting my head back, I let out a breath. So, my parents are coming tomorrow. I’ll have at least a few days to work with. I may not want to tell them right away, just in case it upsets them in some way and I don’t want to spoil the holiday. Shit, I’ll just tell them when I drop them back off at the airport. That should work.

  No. No, it won’t. Why did that stupid thought just pop up in my head? Whatever, my mind is too fried from the tour and everything else that’s going on to think about that. I guess, I’ll just hope it feels right at some point and just tell them without over thinking it.

  I sit in the tub ‘til the water becomes lukewarm and my fingers and toes resemble raisins. Carefully stepping out so I don’t slip, I wrap the towel tightly around
me before walking over to the vanity to grab my brush.

  Brushing out my tangled hair, I head back into what I guess would be Tristan’s and my room that overlooks the backyard and a perfect straight shot of the mountains. Smiling, I continue to brush out my hair as I stare dreamily out the window.

  Wait a minute…

  My smile fades. I wonder how much this place cost? Shit, here I am going all goo-goo eyed over it when I should’ve at least offered half. Half of what? This place is clearly way more then what I can afford. Shit. Well, whatever. I’m not going to guilt myself about that, too. Damn hormones. I’m so out of it. I think I need to fill my face, well, try to, and then crash out. I am already feeling exhausted for tomorrow.

  Since I’m just vegging out, I choose the old faithful when it comes to comfort- my black yoga pants and sweet, cut-off-at-the-shoulder gray sweatshirt. Obviously, I was a big fan of Flashdance when I was nineteen. Who am I kidding? Still am. That movie rocks!

  After sliding my head through, I tug at the hem, my knuckles brushing over my lower abdomen as I bring the sweatshirt down. Pausing for a moment, I bring my shirt back up a few inches. My heart flutters when I admire the light swell.

  “Sophia…”

  My head snaps up and I drop my shirt when I hear Tristan’s voice in the doorway. His massive body is leaning against the frame with his arms folded over his chest, his eyes looking at me the same way I was staring at my belly. Feeling like I just got caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to, I try to play it cool.

  “Pizza here?” I ask, but Tristan doesn’t say anything.

  “Don’t stop,” Tristan says to me in a low voice.

  Tilting my head to the side, I give him a small smile. Tristan pushes off the door frame and stalks his way toward me. My breathing hitches when he brushes his hard chest against mine. Bending his head, he repeats himself in an even lower voice.

  “Don’t stop.”

  He grips the hem of my shirt and slowly drags it up over my stomach. He gently lays his other hand over the small swell and swipes his thumb back and forth over it, his eyes watching the compassionate movement of his thumb.

  “I love you, Sophia.”

  Tristan’s eyes go from my stomach up to mine. They’re soft. Stepping up on my tiptoes, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to me, kissing him deeply. His tongue smoothes over and under mine. Bringing my heels back down, I pull my bottom lip into my mouth as I rest my forehead on Tristan’s chest, closing my eyes at the feel of Tristan’s large hand massaging my skull.

  “I love you, too.”

  ************

  Tristan

  Fuck! Sophia is sitting beside me, bouncing up and down in her seat as we head for LAX. She’s pretty stoked that her parents are in town. I guess I am, too. Aside from her mom probably having her doubts, I know for a fucking fact her old man likes me. Pretty sure of myself, but I have a damn right to be.

  Last week when Sophia passed out after a show, I scrolled through her phone and got his number. I could have asked for it, but then my girl would know something was up and I didn’t want any slip ups in my plan. Now her fidgeting beside me kind of has my nerves on edge.

  “Shit, baby. You have to get over there.” Sophia points her teeny finger out the window.

  “I know, Sophia.”

  I know how to fucking drive, I want to say, but that would just piss her off. Goddamn, I wish her parents were coming in earlier or way later. Mid-day at LAX is fucking insane and this traffic congestion is amplifying my damn nerves.

  “Tristan, you’re fucking passing it,” she bites out, staring behind her.

  “I got this,” I growl.

  Don’t lose your cool. It’s not her fault you’re tweaking out on the inside like a little bitch.

  “No. No, you don’t.”

  “Fuck! Woman,” I mumble.

  “What?” Sophia arches her eyebrow at me.

  Fucking great. Here we go.

  “Tristan, we’re supposed to be picking them up already and now it’s probably going to be another damn hour before we get back around.”

  “How in the fuck, am I supposed to get over five lanes, Sophia?”

  “It’s called MERGING!” she yells.

  Oh, how I would love to shut her sweet mouth the fuck up by shoving my cock down her throat. Pressing my lips hard in my mouth, I grip the steering wheel as if I was gonna rip the fucking thing right off the dash. This shit right here... One minute happy and excited and shit, the next completely the fucking opposite. I love her. I love her. Still looking straight ahead, my eyes scan over and down at those perfect tits of hers bulging out of her t-shirt. Mmm… that’s fucking better.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tristan

  By the time I’m actually able to fucking get over to the gate, they had been waiting for over forty-five minutes. At least Sophia stayed silent for rest of the time. Yeah, every now and then she would huff about the traffic, but at least her attitude was better.

  Before I can even pull the brake up, Sophia flings open her door and gets out of the car. Christ! She needs to be more fucking careful. Sophia goes right for her old man, wrapping her arms around his middle. He wraps his over her shoulders and hugs her.

  Climbing out of the car, I walk over to their suitcase which is propped up beside Sophia’s mom. She stands there watching their embrace with a genuine smile on her face. She looks almost as beautiful as my girl, dressed in some faded jeans and a long sleeved thermal tee. Like mother, like daughter. Her black hair blows around her face. It’s chilly today at fifty-four degrees, but my guess is, coming from Michigan in December, this must feel like a fucking heat wave to them.

  “Thea,” I nod at her as I take hold of the handle.

  Her dark eyes look up at me, eyeing me up like she knows something. She gives me a closed-mouthed smile. Did Joe say anything to her? She must know something, because she gives me a wink before she turns and opens her arms up to Sophia.

  “How was your flight?” Sophia asks her when she pulls back.

  They begin talking to each other as they head for the car. Following behind them, I feel Joe’s hand slap my back.

  “Tristan, I could’ve gotten it.”

  Shaking my head at him, I pop the trunk. Sophia and her mom have already gotten into the car.

  “It’s good.” I say as I lift the suitcase in.

  “Another thing,” Joe says as he gets in close.

  Looking down at him, he is probably five ten, tops. His eyes scan behind me before he goes on.

  “We could’ve gotten our own tickets.”

  Grinning at Sophia’s old man, I shake my head ʻno’ as I shut the trunk.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I say, hoping he’ll just drop it.

  I glance into the car. Sophia has no clue what is going on, but her dad knows. Most likely her mom does now, too. Fuck, I need a drink.

  “We would’ve been here on time, but it’s just crazy around here,” I hear Sophia saying in the back seat with her mom as I try to squeeze myself into this car. Joe cackles beside me once I finally close the door. I just shake my head at him as I shift it into gear.

  “Did you ever think about playing for the NBA?” Joe asks.

  My own cackle comes out now. I look over at him.

  “Nah, not my thing.”

  “Well, you obviously have found your thing. But holy shit, you’re huge.”

  “Joe, watch your mouth.” Thea taps Joe jokingly on the back of the head.

  He laughs louder, shrugging.

  “What? The man is tall, Thea.”

  When I look in the rearview mirror, I find Sophia staring at me, her mouth pulling up at the side.

  “Where are good places to go around here, Sophia?” continues Joe. “I’m starving and those damn airlines only give you pretzels or nuts now.”

  “Actually, I was planning on taking mom to the grocery store later so she can make corn soup or filled scones.”

  “Fil
led scones?”

  What the fuck is that?

  Sophia leans up against the back of my seat, tugging on my hair gently in the back as if she already knows I have no clue what they are.

  “They’re sooo good,” she says in a thrilled voice. “You take bread dough and fill it with cheese sauce, cooked hamburger, mushrooms, and pepperoni. Then you fry it.”

  “Pow Wow food,” Joe says casually beside me as if that would explain everything.

  I’ve never been to a Pow Wow, so I wouldn’t know what they have to eat there, but anything deep fried is awesome in my eyes. And I like the fact that Sophia is excited to eat something. It’s been a bitch lately for her to eat anything without gagging. Aren’t women supposed to gain weight during pregnancy? Because so far, other than the noticeable swell she has now underneath her clothes, she still manages to keep losing weight.

  “I suppose I can do that,” Thea tells Sophia, and they go back talking about Sophia heading over to Europe.

  “How’s the tour been treating ya, Tristan?” Joe speaks up again as I merge back onto the freeway.

  “It’s going,” is all I say, but looking over at him, he’s smiling from ear to ear, which causes me to grin.

  It’s already past four in the afternoon when we make it home after stopping at the grocery store. Fuck, I hate driving out here.

  “Wow,” Sophia’s mom breathes as she looks up at our house.

  Joe’s face doesn’t show any emotion. He doesn’t say anything either, but his blue eyes give him away. He’s happy.

  “Aw, Mom. You should see the backyard. There’s even more lemon trees and a bunch of other ones that I’m really not sure about, but are pretty anyways. And the view…”

  Parking the car, I scratch the bottom of my chin with the back of my hand. Sophia’s dad gets out of the car before I even have a chance to and walks around to the back. Stubborn old man, wheeling his suitcase behind him while carrying the bag of groceries. My grin widens as I watch him handle it all with no effort.

  “Through here is the kitchen.”

  Sophia plays tour guide as she leads her parents into the kitchen. I love watching her smile and show off the place. This is hers and I’m so fucking glad she didn’t fight me on it.