After the Storm

by Katy Ames

  Tristan threaded his fingers through her knotted hair and kissed her, slow and long. “Tessa,” he sighed, pulling back. “I’m no good at this.” She tensed in his lap, but Tristan soothed her with another kiss. “I’m not good at being around people. I haven’t been for a long, long time. And this thing between us….”

  Tristan’s brow pinched in what looked like pain. Tessa was on pins and needles while she waited for him to continue.

  “I’ll try,” he finally said. “I don’t know how to do this. But I’m willing to learn. For you, Tessa.” Tristan’s eyes burned into her, bright with hope and a lingering shred of fear. “I promise I’ll try.”

  She nodded, unease crawling up her legs with a chill. What a thing to ask him. What a thing to hope for.

  You’re such a hypocrite, Tessa. You want him try. You want him to trust you. Have you forgotten what you’ve done? The things you have yet to do? How far do you think this stunning, stoic man is going to run when he finds out all of the things you’re not saying?

  * * *

  It was late afternoon by the time they left the cabin. The storm had cleared hours before and, barring the ocean debris scattered across the sand, broken branches, and scattered pieces of palm trees, the resort and the surrounding area had survived relatively unscathed.

  Tristan walked Tessa back to the kitchen. He dropped a quick kiss on her temple before saying goodbye. He had to make a more thorough assessment of the property, just to ensure there wasn’t any major damage. Then he and the hotel crew, aided by Grant’s team, would begin the cleanup.

  “Tonight?” Tessa grabbed his hand before he left.

  “What about it?”

  “Dinner.”

  Tristan gave her one of his beautiful, hesitant smiles. “You want to do dinner tonight?”

  “I do.” Tessa watched him, suddenly nervous. “Do you?”

  “Yes.” His smile traveled all the way to his eyes. “I do. Very much.”

  “Great.” She felt giddy. “Come to my apartment later. My turn to host.”

  “It’s a deal.” Tristan kissed the hand that held his before heading towards the spa.

  Tessa dug through her cubby for the spare clothes she kept in the kitchen. The outfit she’d worn to search for Tristan was long gone, and his shirt and shorts she’d worn back were so large she could barely walk in them, let alone work.

  The past forty-eight hours had been intense. With their unexpected fight in his suite, thinking he’d disappeared, the stress of the storm, and everything that had happened in the cabin, Tessa was exhausted. But a nervous energy hummed through her and she knew she’d never be able to sleep. Time in her kitchen was the perfect solution.

  She was almost finished with a ginger spice cake that she wanted ready for the fall season when her phone rang. It was loud and sharp in the large, empty room.

  She didn’t need to look to know who it was. She hadn’t heard from him in days. His call was overdue.

  “Survive the storm in one piece?”

  Tessa knew from the way he asked he didn’t really care about her answer. “Yes.”

  “Good. We’re all so glad.”

  “I’m sure.” Tessa ran her finger through a dusting of cinnamon on the counter.

  “We got the update you sent. It was much appreciated.”

  “I don’t really care if it was appreciated,” she bit out. “I just want to make sure you’re sticking to your end of the deal.”

  “You mean, not telling the feds about your father’s less-than-above-board deals, which would result in them stripping his remaining assets? That end of the deal?”

  “Yes,” Tessa hissed.

  “Don’t worry, Ms. Armstrong,” the man answered. “Your father is safe for now. Which means he has enough money to keep paying for your grandmother’s medical treatment. And that will continue for as long as you keep your end of the deal.”

  Tessa didn’t say anything. He knew the threat would work as well as it had the first time.

  “Good,” he continued. “So glad we understand each other. Especially since I’m calling with a new task.”

  “What do you want?”

  “No need to take that tone of voice, Ms. Armstrong.”

  “No need to beat around the bush either.”

  The rumble of laugher she heard on the other end chilled her.

  “It’s a good thing I like you, Tessa. Otherwise, I’d be inclined to make this significantly harder on you. To make it more of a learning experience.”

  “Sorry.” Her palms broke out in a cold sweat as she forced out the apology. “Things have been stressful. With the hurricane. I didn’t mean to be so abrupt.”

  “Apology accepted. This time.” He shifted on the other end, his fingers hitting a keyboard. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Your next project.”

  Tessa waited, her chest tight. This was it, when things went from bad to worse. The demand that pushed her from being Grace’s really crap friend to a traitor. The defining moment that would change her from the woman who cared deeply about Tristan to the one who betrayed both him and his cousin.

  “We need access to a room.”

  “That’s it?” It seemed far too simple.

  “That’s it. Though I think you’ll find in this case, Ms. Armstrong, the devil’s in the details.”

  “Which are?”

  “Oh, don’t sound so irritated. If it was a simple matter of getting any room don’t you think we’d just call and do it ourselves?”

  “Yes. I suppose.”

  “And you’d be correct. We need access to a very specific room. Tomorrow.”

  “So soon?” Tessa almost dropped the spoon she’d forgotten she was holding.

  “So late, actually. We wanted to start earlier, but the hurricane forced a delay.”

  “Okay,” Tessa breathed out, long and uneven. “Tell me what you need.”

  The man gruffly outlined what she had to do. It sounded deceptively simple. Until Tessa realized exactly what he was asking for.

  “That’s impossible,” she stuttered.

  “Nothing’s impossible,” he retorted. “Not with the right motivation.” Tessa’s phone vibrated with an incoming text. “And I think you’ll find, Ms. Armstrong, that you have more than enough in that department. Go ahead and look. I’ll wait.”

  Without hanging up, Tessa jumped from the call screen to her texts. Her fingers trembled as she opened up the picture he’d sent. It was high quality. Not grainy, not taken from a distance. Gran was in a large chair at her nursing home, a smile, bright but a little watery, on her face as she chatted with a friend next to her. Gran’s arm was stretched to the side, the two needles for her dialysis treatment perfectly visible where they punctured her papery skin. Whoever had taken the picture had been close. And had known exactly what Tessa needed to see to stay focused.

  Her voice was strained when she returned to the call. “And if I can’t do it?”

  “I really don’t think you want to find out.” He left the threat hovering, unsaid.

  Motivation or not, Tessa knew this was going to turn around and bite her in the ass, leaving a bloody mess. And, quite possibly, cost her the life she was starting to build on the island.

  Her tongue tasted flat and metallic. “Fine. I’ll get it.”

  “Good.”

  The call ended with a click and Tessa slumped against the counter, defeated. Her head pounded and all of her breaths came up short. She’d long since forgotten about her cake and the batter sat lifeless in the pan.

  “Fuck,” she muttered out loud, dumping the entire thing in the sink.

  There was only one person she could think of who could help her. Tessa hated to make the call, hated to drag Grace into her mess, into her deception. But, desperate and exhausted, she couldn’t see another way.

  Her fingers trembled as she dialed.

  “Tessa! Is everything all right? Are you okay?” Grace answered the call with a flurry of questions.

  “
Yes, we’re fine. I’m fine.” Well, not really.

  “How bad was the hurricane? I can’t believe you were there all on your own. I know you hate storms.”

  “Grace, I’m fine. I swear. Besides, I wasn’t alone.”

  “Tristan?”

  “Yeah. He kept me company. Made sure I was safe,” she answered simply. This was not the time to get into that part of the story.

  “Oh, thank God. So you’re both okay?”

  Tessa gave a short laugh. The concern in her friend’s voice was touching. Guilt threatened to drown her. She didn’t deserve Grace’s compassion. Not now. “We’re fine. Stop mothering. Tristan’s fine. I’m fine. The resort’s fine. Everything is—”

  “Fine. Yeah, I get it,” Grace cut her off. “Your excessive use of ‘fine’ doesn’t have me convinced. I know that avoidance tactic as well as any other woman. I’m going to let it slide this once, but only because I’m coming back. Day after tomorrow. So I’ll be able to check how ‘fine’ everything is myself.”

  “Mark, too?”

  “Yes, both of us. Not that we don’t trust Tristan and Peter, but we need to see the hotel for ourselves. Make sure everything is okay. I wanted to come back today, but Mark has a few more things to sort out with Jack.”

  “I can’t wait to see you.” I’m an awful, awful person and I miss you so much.

  “Me too. And I especially can’t wait to hear about how things are going with Tristan.”

  “Hmm.” Tessa didn’t miss her friend’s speculative tone. Grace was a wonderful friend, but she could be nosy as hell. Well, you might not have to worry about that much longer, given she might not be your friend when she finds out what you’ve done. What you’re about to do….

  Tessa evaded the subject, muttering, “I promise I’ll tell you all about it when you get back. But I have a favor to ask in the meantime.”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Do you think….” Tessa halted, nervous. “I’d like to stay in one of the newly renovated suites.”

  “What? Why?”

  There was no good reason, but Tessa gave her flimsy response. “Chef and I have been trying out a few new items for the room service breakfast menu. I want to test them myself, to see how they stand up in the real experience. Make sure they travel well, stay warm, that sort of thing.”

  Grace thought for a moment. “And you want to do it from one of the new suites? They aren’t even in inventory yet.”

  “I know,” Tessa answered, working hard to sound normal. “But they’re the farthest from the kitchen. And since they’ll be occupied by VIP guests, they’re perfect for a trial run. If the food serves well there, it will serve well anywhere.”

  “What sorts of dishes are you trying out?” If Grace her friend was nosy, Grace the general manager was precise.

  Tessa scrambled for an answer. “Breakfast popovers,” she shouted out, regretting it instantly. There was no way she’d recommend serving popovers on the room service menu. They were too finicky and would collapse way too fast. The only way to eat them was straight out of the oven, when they were still hot and butter melted on contact.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Only partially. Which is why I want to try it out.”

  Grace was quiet, thinking. “I’m not sure this is going to work, Tessa. I’m all for pushing the boundaries and upping our game, but this seems like a disaster waiting to happen.”

  Oh, if only you knew.

  “You might be right, but I still want to try. What’s the worst that could happen? The rooms aren’t even available yet, so it’s not like we’re displacing a guest. And I can pay for the staff hours out of the restaurant budget, if you want. It won’t take long. So it’s not a huge loss if it doesn’t work out.”

  “What has Tristan been telling you? I’m not such a hard ass that I’d make you pay for this out of your budget. We can afford a trial run with room service. Christ, Tessa.”

  Grace sounded so annoyed Tessa might have laughed. If she hadn’t been on the verge of crying.

  “Yes. You can do it,” her friend continued. “I’ll call Carrie. She’ll get you a key.”

  “Thanks. I’ll text you the room number.”

  “Does it have to be that specific room?”

  “Yes,” Tessa answered quickly, digging her free hand into her tangled hair. God, what a fucking mess. “Yes, sorry. It’s just, I, uh, walked them all. There’s one specific room that’s perfect for the test run. If the popovers work there, we’ll be all set.

  Grace gave a resigned sigh. “Yes. Okay. Text me the room number. I’ll put Carrie on it. She’ll let you know when you can grab the key. You want it today, right?”

  “Yes. Saves me from having to get it early tomorrow. I want to do the test run first thing.

  “Okay. Let me get on this. Anything else? You want to cheer me up with stories about Tristan spoon-feeding you soup in his suite during the hurricane? Or maybe you guys got a little handsy over dessert? You know, Mark and I—”

  “And stop,” Tessa interrupted, a rough laugh breaking free. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to know.”

  “Spoilsport. You’re just like Sadie.”

  Tessa had never met Jack’s girlfriend, but she’d heard wonderful things about her from Grace. “I like her already.”

  “Ugg. Fine. Okay, let me go do your bidding, Chef Armstrong. Expect to hear from Carrie soon.”

  “Thanks, Grace. Really appreciate it.”

  “Yup. But remember, regardless of whether this experiment works, you owe me chocolate.”

  “Always,” Tessa answered, her heart hurting as Grace ended the call.

  Fuck. Now, on top of being a horrible person, she had to wake up extra early to make popovers.

  17

  Tessa leaned against the breakfast bar in her staff apartment and polished off her second glass of wine.

  Carrie had dropped off the key an hour earlier. Tessa had barely been able to look her in the eye when she’d mumbled her awkward thanks.

  Dinner would be ready in thirty minutes.

  Tristan should be there in fifteen.

  Just enough time for Tessa to chug another glass. Or so she thought until he knocked on the door. Early.

  “It smells great in here.” Tristan gifted her with one of those heart-melting half-smiles as he bussed her on the cheek.

  “It’s dinner.”

  “It’s you.”

  Tessa didn’t have a chance to respond before he swept her up in a deep kiss. The apartment door closed on its own and Tristan seized the opportunity. He backed Tessa up until she was flush against it, then hauled her up so they were eye level, her legs locking just above his ass.

  “I missed you,” he groaned between kisses. “The way you taste….” He sealed her lips with his, lingering, before muttering, “I couldn’t get you out of my head, the taste of you off my tongue. You’re bliss, Tessa.” Tristan cradled her jaw in his hand, keeping her steady as he sank deep. He was practically beaming when he pulled back. “And so fucking addictive.”

  Tessa was lightheaded. From his kisses. From his words. She didn’t think she’d heard him say so much, so early in the evening, ever. She loved it. All of it. Too much.

  “It’s only been a few hours,” she reminded them both. Her comment broke through his happy haze and Tristan stopped just before dragging her lower lip into his mouth.

  “True.” His face closed off as he let her slide to the floor.

  Goddamnit, you keep fucking up, Tessa! She’d asked Tristan to open up, had made him promise. Had practically demanded he tell her what he was thinking. And now, when he did, she said something that made him think she wasn’t interested. Or, worse, rejecting him.

  “Tristan.” She caught up with him halfway across the room. She had to dodge a coffee table to come around to face him. She laced the fingers of her uninjured hand through his, not letting go when he jerked slightly. “What I meant to say was, I missed yo
u too.”

  Some of the storm faded from Tristan’s eyes, but they didn’t clear completely.

  “I’m sorry. I’m trying to navigate this, us, too.” Tessa gestured weakly between them. “You said you’re out of practice. So I guess it’s only fair for me to admit the same thing.”

  Tristan tucked an errant piece of hair behind one ear, lingering against the sensitive skin beneath her jaw. “You don’t eat dinner with people either?”

  Tessa smiled. “No, that I do all the time. What I mean is, I don’t date. I haven’t dated, not in a very long time.”

  “Is that what we’re doing?” Tristan’s eyes had gone electric blue, flipping Tessa’s anxiety to anticipation.

  “Well….” She slipped her other hand between two of his shirt buttons, relishing the feel of his smooth, hot skin beneath her fingers. “We are sleeping together. And we’re eating together. I think, in many books, that constitutes dating.”

  “Is that what you want?” Tristan closed the gap between them, his thighs brushing her hips, his chest teasing the tips of her breasts.

  “Yes,” Tessa confessed. She hadn’t consciously considered it. But somewhere between their regular—and regularly awkward—dinners and rushing out in a hurricane to find him, Tessa had stopped thinking of Tristan as a friend. She’d started thinking of him as hers. “Yes,” she repeated, louder. “I want us to be dating.”

  Tessa was glad she was holding on to him. The support came in really handy when Tristan smiled and her knees buckled.

  It wasn’t the half-smile she’d come to love.

  It was a full-blown, mega-watt, knock-your-socks-off, stop-your-heart, blindingly brilliant smile. His strong lips parted across straight, white teeth, and the skin around his eyes crinkled in a way that sent heat down deep into Tessa’s stomach, her breath escaping on a whoosh when she caught the flash of a dimple beneath one eye.

  Holy. Fuck. She’d thought Tristan handsome before. Now stunning didn’t begin to cover it.

  His mouth was moving, but it took a second for Tessa to realize he was talking. “Hmm, what?”