by Katy Ames
“Grace,” Tessa breathed out, not sure where the panic was coming from. “Hurst doesn’t invest in restaurants, does it?”
“No.” Grace shook her head. “Not as far as I know. But I also don’t know every detail about it. It’s a huge corporation, and they own lots of smaller companies. I imagine they invest in all sorts of things. Restaurants could be included.”
“I have to go.” Tessa jumped up from the table, ripping her chef coat off at the same time.
“Tessa!” Grace stood up. “What’s wrong?”
“I-I just have to go. I’ll see you later.”
“Dinner?”
Shit. She’d forgotten about dinner. Her, Tristan, Grace, and Mark. She’d been looking forward to it. It would give her a chance to see Tristan enjoy himself with people he liked. People other than her. But, now….
Don’t freak out. It might not mean anything. It could just be a coincidence. Tessa tried to talk herself off the ledge, but the idea of Tristan with another woman had her close to slipping into a hole she hadn’t realized existed.
20
“Tessa?” Tristan tried to get her attention for the third time, finally nudging her arm when she still didn’t answer.
“Huh? Oh.” She glanced at him, still distracted. “Yes?”
“More fish?” He held out a plate of grilled butterfish that Grace had managed to get from Jo in exchange for a case of Mark’s favorite scotch. Given how it melted on the tongue, Tristan didn’t think it was a bad trade. Unlike Mark, who’d grumbled about it for the entire first half of dinner.
“Uh, no. Thanks.” Three words. Well, two words and one sound. That was as much as she’d said during the past thirty minutes. And about twice as much as the first thirty.
Something was wrong, and Tristan had no clue what.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yup. Fine.”
“So…that’s a no?” Tristan smiled at her, the half-curve almost easy now. Tessa’s eyes softened a little at his joke.
“Sorry. Just a little distracted.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“No.” She touched his hand before pulling away. “Well, actually.”
“Yes?”
“I wasn’t going to ask at dinner, didn’t think you guys wanted to talk about business. But there’s something I can’t stop wondering about.”
“What’s that?” Tristan was the one who spoke, but both Mark and Grace were looking at Tessa, too.
Tessa stared at the table, tucking a chunk of hair behind one ear, before looking up at him. “It’s a question about Hurst.”
Tristan’s stomach was suddenly in agreement with Mark. The fish had been an awful idea. “What about it?”
“It’s a pretty large company, right?”
“Very.”
“What sort of business is it?”
Tessa wouldn’t look him straight in the eye. Tristan shifted in his chair, the skin on the back of his neck crawling. He didn’t work for Hurst anymore. He didn’t want to think about his life there. Not at dinner with Mark, and Grace, and Tessa. Not when he finally felt like things were going well for the first time in fucking forever.
“Investment firm, mostly,” Mark jumped in from across the table, saving Tristan from having to answer. “It diversified a few years ago. They have some interest in pharma and tech now, but it is a big financial firm, for the most part.”
“Oh.” Tessa glanced between the two men. “So, no restaurants?”
“No,” Mark confirmed. “No restaurants.”
“Why?” Tristan interjected.
She peeked up at him through her lashes, the soft flush on her cheeks enhanced in the candlelight. “I, uh….” She trailed off, embarrassed.
“Tessa, seriously. What’s up?” Grace finally asked. Tristan caught her worried look and immediately turned back to Tessa. She stabbed her fork into her abandoned fish, shredding it into tiny white flakes. “You’ve been acting funny ever since this afternoon.”
Tessa puffed out a huge breath, catching the strands of hair around her face. “I just don’t know how to ask this without sounding crazy. Or like a stalker.”
“Probably best to just spit it out, then,” her friend replied. “’Cause you’re already skirting crazy territory.”
“Grace.” Mark frowned at her and she gave him a little shrug.
“What? She is,” she muttered before mouthing at Tessa, “You are.”
Tristan watched Tessa stick her tongue out at Grace, her anxiety fading as her friend teased her. When she looked over at him, her eyes had regained some of their spark.
“Okay, I’m just going to come out and ask. Do you know Stephanie Marsh?”
Tristan swallowed before nodding. “Yes.”
“Oh.” And the spark was gone.
“Do you?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear her say it.
“Yes.”
“How?”
Mark and Grace were silent, watching their exchange with a mix of fascination and confusion.
“She’s one of the owners of The Mill.”
“Ah.” Mark realized what Tessa was saying the same time the pieces came together for Tristan.
“And you worked at—”
“The Mill. Yes. I left there to come here.”
“Tristan?” Mark asked the question just by saying his name. Tristan gripped the table to stop his hand from flying to his neck. Mark knew about his relationship with Stephanie. Not that it was a relationship. It was fucking. Rather, it had been fucking. But there would be no fucking her, or anyone else, for that matter, ever again, if Tristan had his way. Just Tessa.
Tessa, who was watching him with a little furrow knitting her brow. And a sadness darkening those chocolate-brown eyes he loved so much.
Tristan didn’t want to talk about it. Hell, he was still figuring out how to talk about anything, let alone explaining to the woman he was dating about the woman he used to fuck. Which, God help him, had occasionally happened at the one place in the entire world that their paths had apparently crossed. But just because he didn’t want to talk about it didn’t mean he could ignore it.
“Tessa?” He intertwined their fingers. She didn’t resist, but she didn’t squeeze back, either. “Tell me why you asked.”
“I thought I saw you,” she whispered. “I did, didn’t I?”
It would be easy to say no. “Sounds like it’s possible. When do you think it was?”
“Just a few days before I arrived on the island. So, about two days before Mark and Grace left.”
Tristan thought back to his last trip to New York. It seemed like ages ago. In fact, everything before Tessa felt like a lifetime ago. A life he wanted nothing to do with ever again. But she was right. He had been in New York then, and he had seen Stephanie.
“Yes. I was there. With her.”
“Oh. Okay. Good to know.” Tessa pulled her hand from his and dropped her napkin on the table. Looking at Mark and Grace, she said, “Thanks so much for dinner. This was fun. But I think it’s time I head home. Early morning, you know….” Tessa trailed off as she stood up from the table.
“Uh, okay,” Mark said, looking between Tessa and Tristan with an unreadable expression.
“Tessa, wait.” Grace reached out, trying to stop her friend. “You can’t leave yet. What about, uh, dessert?” Grace glanced around the table, looking for help, and everyone just stared back.
“Weak,” Mark muttered under his breath.
“Thanks,” Tessa finally said, sliding her abandoned chair back under the table. “But I get enough of that at work. Goodnight.”
Tristan watched Tessa walk up the path that wrapped around the side of the villa. An unfamiliar mixture of helplessness and uncertainty filled him. Had he fucked up? He didn’t know. He didn’t think so. But what the fuck did he know? He had no idea what he was doing. He didn’t date. He’d never had a relationship with anyone like the one he was developing with Tessa. And if he’
d thought he didn’t know what he was doing before, he realized that he was absolutely fucking clueless now. So did Mark and Grace, going by their expressions.
“What are you doing?” Grace prodded. “Go after her.”
“Yeah?” Tristan looked at Mark, who just grinned. Fucker.
“Yeah!” Grace shouted back. “Go!” She jabbed her finger in the direction Tessa had gone. “Talk to her. Explain. Make it better.”
Tristan stood up, his napkin dropping to the ground. “How?”
“Christ, I don’t know.” Grace glared at him like he was the stupidest man on earth. “But you’re related to this guy.” She poked Mark in the chest. “I’m sure you’ll figure out something.”
“Oh, babe,” Mark sassed her with a wide grin. “Is that a compliment?”
“Oh, shut up,” she said, still frowning at Tristan. “Oh my God, what are you still doing here? I’m not drawing you a diagram. GO!”
Tristan blinked a few more times before running after Tessa.
Behind him, he heard Mark murmur, “God, I love it when you’re bossy.”
“Asshole,” Grace answered, her chair scraping against the patio. “And hey, Mark? Make sure you bring that chocolate cake in with you.”
* * *
“Tessa!” Tristan pressed his ear to her apartment door, hoping to hear movement behind it. “Tessa!” He knocked again.
There was a series of small clicks before the door swung open. The sight that greeted him had Tristan’s heart clenching and his dick hardening. Which didn’t really make sense but was an experience he was getting used to around Tessa.
She’d traded her dress for a loose, oversized T-shirt. Her hair was up in a messy knot. And her face was scrubbed clean, the pattern of freckles that crested over her nose begging to be kissed.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.” She retreated into the apartment and left Tristan to close the door behind him.
Tristan followed Tessa to the sofa, careful to keep some distance until he figured out exactly what was going on.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out as soon as he sat down.
“What? Why?”
“That wasn’t fair of me.”
“What are you talking about?”
Tessa slipped her hands under her legs, pinning them there as she rocked back and forth. She looked so small, so uncertain, and Tristan had an unexpectedly strong urge to haul her onto his lap and keep her there for the rest of the night. But since he didn’t think manhandling her was what Grace meant when she said “fix it,” he settled for placing his hand on the cushion next to her, within easy reach in case she decided she needed something to hold on to.
“Your life before. Of course there’ve been other women. I’m not crazy. I know you’ve had relationships before.”
“Tessa—”
“Just like I’ve been with other men before.”
Tristan’s hand flexed on the sofa. He wasn’t crazy either, but that didn’t mean he liked the idea of Tessa sleeping with anyone other than him.
“I don’t know.” She gave a little shrug, staring into the distance. “Something about you and Stephanie threw me. Hit a little close to home and got me wondering.”
“About?”
“What it would have been like if we’d met in New York. If we would’ve noticed each other. Gone on a date. If it would be a disaster, or if….” Her voice faded, the pinch between her eyes deeper.
Tristan gave up trying to keep still and locked one of her hands in his, giving little tugs until she turned to face him. “Tessa. Stop. There is literally no point thinking about it, because that’s not how it happened. We aren’t in New York. We met here. We did go on a date. Lots of them, actually. And, other than your incredibly fucking stupid decision to go outside in a hurricane, they haven’t been a disaster.”
Tessa smirked, relaxing a little. “Umm, have you forgotten about our first couple of dinners? Or the bread incident?” She tipped her head back, releasing a real laugh. “They were definitely disasters. No question.”
“No,” Tristan answered, his chest tight and warm and pounding a little bit harder than he thought healthy. “Learning experiences. They were learning experiences.”
“Really?” She didn’t look convinced.
“Really.”
“And what, Mr. Hurst, did you learn from those experiences?”
Tristan matched her smile with one of his own, loving how Tessa’s eyes softened as she watched his lips curve. “I’ve learned, Chef Armstrong, that when it comes to you, I don’t stand a chance.”
Tessa’s smile faded. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
“What?” Wait, she was happy a second ago. What’s going on? He was so completely confused.
“Tristan,” she sighed. “I think I might have pushed you into something you didn’t actually want.”
“What?!” Okay, now he was getting pissed. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Just what you said. You didn’t stand a chance. I decided you needed a friend. And I decided that I wanted to be it. I didn’t ask you. I didn’t even give you a chance to say no. I just pushed and pushed and pushed until you agreed. And, after hearing about Stephanie, well….” She sighed again, all of the fight leaving her. “It made me realize that maybe I barged into somewhere I didn’t belong.”
Tristan threaded his fingers into her hair at the base of her skull, tipping her face up to his. “I really, truly don’t understand what you are trying to say.”
“Jesus,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. She gripped his wrist but didn’t pull away. “Do you remember what you said to me the day before the storm?”
Tristan groaned, not wanting to remember any of the awful things he’d said that afternoon.
“I do,” Tessa continued, not waiting for his answer. “You asked if I thought I could bully you into being my friend. If, let me see if I remember this right, I thought you were a fucking pet that could be trained with fucking treats.”
Tristan winced, hating the words even more when she said them. “You know I didn’t mean that.”
“You did,” Tessa said, completely calm. “I mean, you were lashing out. Frustrated, angry, whatever. And maybe you didn’t intend for it to come out as harsh as it did. But you meant it, Tristan. You believed it. You can’t pretend that isn’t true. Because”—her voice dipped, regret and sadness shading it—“you were right. We bullied you. Me, Grace. Even Mark. We decided you needed something that you hadn’t even asked for. Like you were some sort of child, and we knew better.”
Tessa laughed, a hollow echo of the sound that kept him warm in even his darkest dreams.
“The thing that makes it so hard,” she said, forcing herself to continue, “is that it is what I want. So much.” Tessa shifted on the couch, uncomfortable. But she didn’t look away. “I’ve never felt anything like this before. Nothing even close. It’s friendship, yes. I am your friend, Tristan. Always. But it goes way beyond that.”
Tessa rested her face in his palm and Tristan held his breath. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she relaxed into him. “I think about you all the time,” she confessed. “I count down the hours until I know I’m going to see you. And I constantly hope that I’ll catch a glimpse of you sooner. I think about what your favorite foods might be, or what I can bake that will make you smile. Even just a little.”
Tristan shifted closer on the sofa, unable to keep his distance. He needed to feel her, to hold her, to tell her that she didn’t need to say anything else. That he was already hers. That he was starting to realize he always would be.
“I think I understand why you swim out there. I think I’ve understood since the first time I saw you. Whatever made you come to this island, it makes you get in that water. Makes you think about getting as far away as possible and, maybe, never returning. But I watch you, Tristan,” she whispered. “I watch you and I always will, because I need to make sure you come back. Because I don’t think I’ll be ab
le to breathe if you don’t come back.”
Tristan felt something wet touch the tip of his thumb. He sucked in a breath when he realized what it was.
“Tessa.” Her name felt like a prayer. A benediction. And he couldn’t understand how his heart felt full and joyous even though he was sure that hers, in that second, was cracking.
“I think of you as mine, Tristan. Mine.” Her voice wobbled. “Like there’s never been any room for argument or doubt. Like there was no chance that any other person, any other woman, could claim you. And I guess I just realized that maybe I was wrong. That, if given the chance, you’d want something else. Someone else. And I think,” she whispered, “I think it broke my heart. Just a little.”
Tristan’s brain was a mess of words and emotions and secret hopes and he didn’t have a clue where to start. He’d spent so long not saying a word to anyone. Not about anything important. So he didn’t know how to convince the woman in front of him that she was right. He was hers. From the top of his thick skull to the bottom of his trigger-happy feet, he was, without any question, Tessa’s.
Tristan didn’t have the words. But there was another way to convince her.
“Come.” He stood and tried to pull Tessa with him, but she didn’t budge. Her eyes were bleak when they met his.
“W-wait,” she stumbled, looking away. “There’s more. Other things I need to say. That I need to tell you.”
She started to slip her fingers from his and Tristan couldn’t stand the desolation on her face. He needed to make her understand. He needed to show her.
“Later, Tess. Whatever it is, it can wait. Right now, I need you to come with me.” She was hesitating, uncertain. Tristan nudged her into agreeing with another soft tug and a heartfelt, “Please.”
Tessa followed him into the bathroom. Tristan left the overhead lights off and flicked on the little accent lamp she’d placed in the corner. Tessa watched, confused, as he moved them in front of the mirror, turning her to face it.
“Look,” he directed, meeting her eyes in the reflection.
Tessa nipped at her bottom lip but did as he said.
“I don’t know what to say to convince you.” He cupped her chin, refusing to let her look away. “I’m not good at explaining things, Tessa. Shit, I’m not good at most things that involve other people. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”