Finding Forever (Found in Oblivion Book 7)

by Cari Quinn

  Maybe we never will be.

  “So don’t go on tour. Stay here and be a mother and let them replace you with another bassist who isn’t half as good. Let that bastard who killed Randy and hurt Elle take another victim.”

  “I’m not a victim.” She pushed both hands through her hair, then gripped it in her fists. “I’m just not sure I’m strong enough.”

  “Strong enough to go? Or strong enough to stay?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You didn’t tell me for a reason, and it wasn’t just because you hadn’t made up your mind.”

  “Oh, really? Then why didn’t I tell you?”

  “Maybe you’re not ready to go back on the road and remember what life was like with him there, when I was stuck back here. Because we both know for sure you’re damn well used to traveling without me. Not so much without Sparky.”

  Jules jerked to her feet. “He’s dead. How can you speak of him that way? First, you accuse me of not thinking you loved him, now it’s that I won’t be getting my road nookie? Seriously? Is this the shit that’s been in your head?”

  “Oh yeah, and lots more. And how can you blame me?” Tris rose as well and moved to brace his hands on the mantel on the opposite wall. “If he was still here, you would’ve told him right away. He was part of your work circle. Hell, he would’ve been appraised right away anyway. You always had that bond I didn’t—couldn’t—share.”

  “I didn’t have to ask him to make accommodations for me and my work, because he was there. Yes, you’re right. That made things easier. But if you think we viewed you as somehow less because your work took you in a different direction—”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know a goddamn thing anymore, and I hate it.” He banged his fist on the mantel and the unlit tapered candles shivered in their heavy platinum holders.

  She let go of her hair and leaned back against the couch, letting her eyes close. “He would want to kick our asses, you know.”

  “Yes, because he was so saintly and perfect and no other human man could ever live up to him.”

  Shocked, she opened her eyes again and stared hard at his back. The muscular shape of him was so familiar to her, even in his clothes. But the words coming out of his mouth sounded like they belonged to a stranger.

  “I know you don’t mean that. You honestly aren’t turning this loss into a pissing contest with a man who can’t even speak up for himself because he’s gone. He’s gone, Tristan. For fucking ever.”

  “Do you think I don’t know that?” Tristan swept his arm over the mantel and the candlesticks went flying, along with a few other knickknacks.

  Like the small yellow duck Randy had bought for her in a little shop in Tulsa, one day last year during a concert stop.

  God, no.

  She ran to scoop it up from the floor, a sob leaving her throat at the broken pieces that scraped her palms. Frantically, she tried to fit the duck back together. To make the cracks disappear. But it was broken beyond repair.

  She sat back on her heels and looked up at Tristan, her throat choked with tears. “How could you do this?”

  Even the anguish on his face as he approached her to kneel at her side wasn’t enough to assuage the pain and hurt inside her. And yes, rage. She wasn’t mad at him nearly as much as the situation. She’d had something so wonderful and now it felt as if she and Tristan were fighting to hold onto parts, just like the shards of the duck in her palm.

  “I’m sorry.” He ran his hand over her hair and she jerked away, though she hated herself for it. He stared at her as if he’d been slapped.

  God, all she wanted was to turn to him and burrow into his chest and never leave. She didn’t want to deal with the tour. The idea of leaving right now seemed huge and terrifying and ridiculous. That wasn’t her life anymore. Her life was trying to get Joshua to attach to her damn boob long enough to have a good supper. It was changing him and bathing him and fretting that maybe he did love Tristan more—

  All at once, it hit her like a blow to the head. “You think I loved him more, don’t you?”

  He averted his gaze and stood. “I’ll go get the vacuum.”

  “Tristan. Is that what this is about?”

  His jaw worked as their eyes locked. “It’s about knowing damn well you never would’ve kept such important information from him for an hour, never mind days.”

  She nearly asked him again how he knew. Not important right now.

  “I wouldn’t have kept it from him because I wouldn’t have been trying to find the words to tell him I wanted him to come with me.”

  Tristan didn’t say a goddamn word.

  Clutching the duck, she forced herself to stand. To meet him head-on. “It’s not fair of me to ask. I can’t do it. You have a demanding job that you love and your whole life is here. But I don’t know how I can be without you and the baby for so much long. The idea of it is literally ripping me apart—”

  “Wait, without the baby? You’d leave him here?”

  “You’re better with him,” she said quietly. “And he loves his daddy. You’d need each other while I was gone.”

  “We need you,” he said gruffly, dragging her against his chest.

  She slipped her arms tightly around his waist without letting go of her hold on the pieces of the duck. She didn’t care that it was broken. She’d gather up every damn shred from the floor and keep them all.

  Just as she was hoarding her memories like a miser.

  “Why didn’t you just come to me,” he murmured against her hair, brushing kisses over it in between his words. “We used to be able to talk about anything. Don’t you know the most important part of my life is you and our son?”

  His subtle shift from my son to our son resonated inside her, nearly weakening her knees. She leaned against him, drawing on his strength like a sapped battery. He was her power bank. The one who was so strong and capable and never faltered for an instant.

  And when she looked up at him, pain was etched on his features. Lines furrowed his forehead and crinkled beside his eyes. Not laugh lines. These came from strain.

  That she could’ve caused any of them made her want to weep.

  “I know.” She reached up to trace her fingertips over his lips. He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm roughly, his scruff buzzing her skin. “I just don’t want to ask you to choose. Ever. If I get to live my dream and have both of you too, it’s only fair you get the same.”

  “You’re not getting your dream. You just said you don’t know how you can go. So you’d stay here and be with us and meanwhile part of you would be on that bus with your band. The vital part, the one who still needs music like she needs to breathe.” The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Like I need to perfect my marinara sauce.”

  “Need to? It’s already perfect.”

  “It’s an ongoing process. I’m changing my spice blend—” Hearing himself, he laughed and shook his head. “Never mind.”

  “I’d like to be your tester.” Almost shyly, she leaned up on her tiptoes and gave his throat a testing little lick. “You know I always enjoy eating your efforts.”

  “Jesus, Jules.” He stroked the side of her face and she eased back with a little sigh. “Not quite yet according to doctor’s orders?”

  That desire she’d missed seeing in his eyes earlier was on bright display now. The anger was gone, lost in sheer need. “Soon. But we can always amuse ourselves in—”

  A cry sounded from upstairs and they both charged for the stairs. Tristan moved back to let her go first but they made it to Joshua’s room in record time. Bess was already rushing into it, her long nightgown trailing on the floor, but Tristan quietly told her she wasn’t needed, so she went back to bed.

  After setting down the broken duck pieces on the dresser, Jules hurried over to the crib. She scooped up her little boy, tucking his head against her chest as he wailed. She glanced over her shoulder at Tristan, who stood just inside the doorway in the glow from the
spinning zoo animals carousel nightlight. “You know he’ll settle faster for you.” She carried a now squalling Joshua over to his father and carefully placed him in his arms.

  Tristan stroked the baby’s cheek and Joshua immediately grabbed on to him, his cries slowing almost immediately. She had to smile even as a small part of her wanted to whine. At least one of them had the magic touch when it came to soothing Joshua.

  Besides, she needed a few minutes to get out of her torture device top.

  “I don’t have what he wants.” Tristan shifted him in his arms and Joshua’s heavy eyes closed. He was still so tired, but she knew he had to be hungry too because he was always hungry about this time.

  “Gonna take me a bit to free myself.” Jules reached her arms behind her back and groaned. “Why did I think this was a smart idea?”

  “Who laced you up in the first place?”

  “Molly. I put this on when I got to her apartment. I wasn’t sure I’d have the nerve until I actually got there. Then she was dressed in the most amazing leather pants and this almost sheer blouse and I was like screw it. These babies are huge right now, so might as well show them off.” Then she bit her lip, relieved to see his amusement in his curled lips. “I mean show them off in general. Not like to flash them for other men—”

  “We’re not that far off track. I know exactly what you mean.”

  “Thank God.” She started to slip past Tris and the baby into the hall. “I’ll just go ask Bess to help me get out of this thing.”

  “No, hang on.” Tristan returned the baby to his crib, talking to him in a gentle voice all the while. He didn’t speak to Joshua in baby nonsense, just kept his tone even as he explained what was going on and that he’d be right back.

  Jules stepped back into the nursery and braced for Joshua’s certain wail the second Tristan set him down, but all was quiet.

  Wow. He really was the baby Pied Piper. She was as amazed by it today as she had been the first time they’d put Joshua in his daddy’s arms.

  One of his daddy’s, and just as important and equal as the other. Just as vital as the memories that filled her head and her heart.

  She had to make sure Tris never forgot that.

  “Okay, turn around.”

  The commanding edge to Tristan’s voice made her shiver as she complied. She’d missed that side of him. Fiercely. As soon as they got the doctor’s okay, it was on like Donkey Kong.

  Because it wasn’t betraying Randy to have sex with Tristan. It wasn’t hurting him or denying how much she—they—had loved him. Loved him still.

  She had to keep telling herself that. And she would, because she and Tristan couldn’t let a divide grow between them. Especially when she was nearly certain their feelings on the subject were more alike than different.

  Fear and grief were evil bitches, and she’d be damned if she let them win.

  “Can you even breathe in this thing?”

  “Not really. That could be why I’ve been dizzy tonight.” She’d said it as a joke but he cupped her chin and made her look at him.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. I think it’s just panic attacks.” That too she tried to say lightly, but even in the low glow from the nightlight, she made out the pinch of his brows.

  “Are those new?”

  It would’ve been easier to lie. Less painful. “No. I’ve gotten them on and off since Paris. Since the accident—”

  “Yes.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, tucking his chin against her head. “I haven’t thought nearly enough how this all would affect you. That it happened on stage, when you’d already dealt with so much before. I’ve been far too focused on myself.”

  “Yeah, well, me too, buddy.” She let out a long breath. “Honestly, the kindest thing you can do for me is to get me out of this contraption.”

  He chuckled as Joshua whimpered. “For him too. He’s hungry.”

  On cue, her stomach cried for mercy.

  “Jeez, I ate half the fried appetizers on the menu and still?”

  “Wow, both my charges are starving. One I can take care of. The other is all your domain.” He went back to freeing the laces, creating more shivers as he kissed a few patches of exposed skin.

  Once he’d helped her out of the top, she shifted to face him, unable to resist bringing her shoulders back so that her breasts lifted high and proud. Well, as high as they got without assistance these days. She wasn’t ashamed of any part of her body, despite her occasional image concerns. She’d given frigging birth. She fed her child.

  No shame there. No way.

  “You’re beautiful,” Tris said huskily, drawing his fingertip lightly around her puckered nipple. She inhaled deeply, about ready to throw off the doctor’s orders and go for broke.

  As if sensing the nearness of dinner, Joshua started to wail.

  “Cock-blocked twice by this guy.” Tristan chuckled again and went to pick up his son. “I know, I know. It’s hard when you’re hungry and supper is late. Here you go. Here’s your mom.” He passed Joshua to her, angling the baby’s mouth so it was near her nipple.

  Joshua wasted no time. She barely got out a “hi, baby,” before her child sought her nipple. He didn’t manage it the first time or the second. Or the third. But on the third, he settled in, his tiny hands squeezing as she winced and adjusted.

  Her eyes connected with Tristan’s. He was still holding Joshua too while he nursed. He looked down at their son and back up at her and the pulse of love that went through her for both of them was staggering.

  She couldn’t imagine being away from them. Not even for a night, never mind long stretches of the tour. The question was on her tongue—please, come with us, Tristan, both of you—but he eased the baby fully into her arms before turning to pull the rocking chair by the window closer to the crib.

  “Sit,” he urged, and she obliged because she was so tired.

  So many emotions had been wrought out of her tonight.

  Out of them.

  “Time to replenish mom’s strength.” Tris stroked a hand down her hair, his touch gentle as he watched Joshua nurse for another moment. “I’ll whip us up a nighttime snack. Come down when you’re finished.”

  Then he was gone.

  Slowly rocking, Jules tipped her head toward Joshua’s. “If it’s hard loving one man, baby boy, loving two is madness.” She took a long sniff of Joshua’s talcum powder and banana bodywash scent. “But I wouldn’t change a second of it, especially making you. You’re the best of us.”

  Except that one night. She would’ve done anything to erase those few hours on stage in November. Given up anything—including her career.

  But that wasn’t an option. So somehow she—they—had to find a way to be happy despite all they’d lost.

  Their forever was just beginning.

  Eighteen

  Tristan reached down to skim his finger over his baby’s cheek. “You’re awfully quiet today, slugger. Do you know what I’m about to do?”

  Of course Joshua didn’t know. How could he? But he was watching his father with entirely too perceptive eyes.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. I should’ve done it before now. I was just…”

  Afraid.

  A coward.

  A jackass.

  All of the above, and he wouldn’t be those things anymore.

  “I took too long, but I’m making it up for it now.”

  Joshua gurgled and clasped Tristan’s finger, making him smile. He could do anything when this perfect little boy stared up at him so trustingly.

  Footsteps rushed down the hall. Soft-soled shoes. Could only be one person, since Jules habitually wore terrifyingly high heels and she was gone to meet the girls for an Elle wedding thing in any case.

  “Hello there, Mr. Eves. I’m sorry it took me an extra few minutes to get here today. Traffic was ghastly.”

  Tristan smiled and turned to face their nanny as she stepped into the nursery. She patted her windswept bun of
gray-streaked red hair and aimed directly for the crib.

  “No worries at all. Thanks so much for coming by early today.”

  “Oh, no problem, Mr. Eves. You know how much I love Joshua.” Bess rubbed Joshua’s downy light brown hair. He didn’t have much yet, and sometimes it looked darker and other times more blond. But his eyes remained that steadfast blue, minus the occasional detour into an almost sea-green.

  Like Randy’s eyes.

  But the blue seemed most prevalent. Tristan couldn’t help wondering sometimes if that meant Joshua had picked up some of his own DNA.

  Then the light shifted and Joshua’s eyes took on that greenish hue and he was back to square one of his guessing game. It was far too soon to know what eye color Joshua would have in the long run in any case.

  It truly didn’t matter. Maybe Randy had a recessive gene for blue eyes in his family. Didn’t Randy’s sister, Harper, have blue eyes?

  Possibly.

  Either way, Joshua was a beautiful, sweet little boy, and whomever his father was, they were lucky. Tristan was going to start focusing on that rather than his concerns or his grief or his confusion about which step to take.

  The man Jules had fallen in love with—and Sparks, come to that—had been decisive and a risk-taker. He hadn’t been worried about missteps and misgivings. He’d examined variables, adjusted to suit, and taken a stand. Just like he did every damn day in the kitchen.

  Now it was time to do the same in his personal life.

  “And he loves you just as much. You’re a lifesaver.” Tristan walked to the door. “Call me if you need anything. I have…an errand to run and then I’ll head over to the restaurant.”

  “Sounds good.” Bess already had Joshua cradled in her arms. “We’ll be just fine, won’t we, Master Joshua?”

  The baby burbled happily in response.

  Tristan smiled and headed downstairs. It helped to have such an amazing nanny they could trust. She was available at all hours and didn’t hesitate if they asked her to do the occasional sleepover like the night Jules had gone to the Brooklyn Dawn show.

  But would she be as okay with coming with them on a lengthy tour? That remained to be seen.