“Charlotte told me that she saw you kissing Paris,” she finally said.
“I didn’t kiss her,” he said. “She kissed me.”
“I don’t really care who was kissing whom,” Tristyn said. “I’m just asking you to remember that you have three impressionable little girls watching your every move this summer.”
“I’m well aware of that,” he told her.
“Which means you’re not going to be able to...socialize to the extent you’re accustomed to.”
“Socialize?” he echoed.
She rolled her eyes. “Are you really going to make me spell it out?”
“I think that would be good.”
“Okay,” she relented. “You’re going to have to leave the fence bunnies at the fence.”
Josh knew there was as much action to be found away from the track as on it. And while he couldn’t deny that he got a kick out of the attention that came from owning a race team, he’d never—not once—said yes to any of the frequent and explicit offers that had been whispered in his ear by eager groupies. Sure, he sometimes partied with fans in celebration of a victory, but he’d never spent the night with one of them.
There were other women involved with the sport who he’d crossed paths with on a regular basis. Sometimes they hung out together, sometimes it was more than hanging out. But those women knew the circuit, they knew the rules and they didn’t want anything more than he did. And he’d be damned if he would apologize to Tristyn for indiscretions that didn’t exist anywhere outside of her own mind.
Instead, he only nodded. “No worries. As you know, girls who throw themselves at me aren’t my style.”
Twin spots of color appeared high on her cheeks. “Touché.”
Dammit. He closed his eyes and silently cursed himself for lashing out. Yeah, she’d pissed him off, but he shouldn’t have hit back at her. He shouldn’t have hurt her. Again.
Not that she would ever admit to feeling hurt. She kept her chin up and her gaze level, but he saw the truth in those deep green eyes. And for that he would apologize. “I’m sorry, Tris.”
She shook her head. “Don’t ever apologize for being honest about your feelings.”
Which sounded like good advice, except that he’d never been honest with her about his feelings. He was barely capable of being honest with himself.
* * *
His nieces had crashed a long time ago and Tristyn had firmly closed the door of her bedroom more than an hour earlier, but Josh still couldn’t sleep. He thought about the key card Paris had slipped into his pocket earlier—the key card he hadn’t hesitated to give back. The explanation he’d given was a valid one—he was responsible for his nieces and had no intention of abandoning them for the pursuit of personal pleasure. But it wasn’t the complete truth, which was that he knew a few hours of fun in another woman’s bed wouldn’t make him forget the one woman he wanted. The one woman he couldn’t have.
The woman who was sleeping less than fifteen feet away, snuggled beneath the covers of a king-size bed in granny jammies despite her alleged preference for sleeping in the nude. Fact or fiction? He wasn’t entirely convinced she’d been telling him the truth. More likely, she’d made it up for the sole purpose of keeping him awake at night. Which it was.
Because as much as he’d made fun of the shapeless boxy pj’s, Tristyn had looked sexy even in those, and the buttons that ran down the front of the top started low enough to reveal a tantalizing hint of cleavage. Which he definitely should not be thinking about when he was trying to sleep, because now his body was wide-awake and ready for action.
He never should have agreed to do this road trip. And as far as bad ideas went, inviting Tristyn to come along with them ranked right up there with the worst of them. They were at the end of only their second day together, and he couldn’t sleep for wanting her.
Though Josh would never admit it to anyone, she’d haunted his dreams for years. Twelve years, in fact. Since the night of her senior prom, when he’d decided to be a nice guy and save Tristyn—and Daniel—the humiliation of her being escorted to the event by a relative. That was the solution her mother had originally proposed, when Tristyn’s boyfriend came down with the flu and was unable to attend, and Josh had stepped up as a favor to his friend. He’d certainly never expected to feel anything for his best friend’s cousin.
Tristyn had been done up for the big event as if the Spring Fling was a royal wedding. Her dress had even been white, though that wasn’t the first thing he’d noticed about it. No, what he’d noticed was that the tight, elaborately beaded bodice of the strapless gown drew his attention—and probably that of every other guy in the room—to her no-longer-flat chest.
In that moment, Josh had realized his best friend’s little cousin wasn’t so little anymore and that this “favor” wasn’t going to be nearly as effortless as he’d anticipated. That was when he’d begun to sweat inside his tuxedo jacket.
Her long dark hair had been done up in some fancy twist with sparkly pins artfully arranged in it. Stunningly beautiful even without any cosmetic enhancement, a subtle touch of makeup had made her eyes look bigger and darker, her lips glossy and kissable. She’d been the embodiment of temptation, and when he’d taken her arm and led her to his car, he hadn’t been certain that he’d be able to resist.
It had taken an extreme force of will—and consideration of how Daniel might react if Josh made a move on his best friend’s cousin—but he’d delivered her home at the end of the night as untouched as she’d been at the beginning. After eight torturous hours with Tristyn being close enough to touch—and not being allowed to touch her.
He’d barely survived those eight hours—and now he’d signed up for eight weeks in close proximity to her.
What had he been thinking?
When Charlotte had impulsively invited Tristyn to join them, he should have said no, firmly and unequivocally. That he’d implored her to say yes was proof he hadn’t been thinking—at least not with his brain. Now he was trapped in less than three hundred square feet of living space with a beautiful woman who turned him inside out just by breathing.
He was pretty sure the attraction he felt wasn’t entirely one-sided. He’d caught her staring at him when he stepped out of the shower, and the look in her eyes had not been that of a disinterested woman. And since they were both unattached adults—because he didn’t believe that her claims of a relationship with Rafe were anything more than a smoke screen—why shouldn’t they explore the attraction between them?
The primary reason, of course, was that she was still his best friend’s cousin. And if Daniel had any idea that Josh was even thinking about getting Tristyn naked—well, he didn’t want to imagine what his friend might say or do, how it would affect not just their friendship but their business partnership.
Still, he suspected that one night with Tristyn might be worth the fallout. His fear was that one night would not be enough.
* * *
The following morning, Josh didn’t wake up to the sounds of Tristyn banging around in the kitchen. He woke up to whispers.
It took him a minute for the words to register, and another few seconds for him to be able to identify the individual speakers.
“We’re not s’posed to wake him up,” Charlotte admonished.
“But how long is he gonna sleep?” Emily asked.
“Maybe he’s jus’ ’tendin’ to s’eep,” Hanna suggested.
“Adults don’t pretend to sleep,” Charlotte informed her.
“How d’you know?” her youngest sister pressed.
“Because no one would get mad at them for not being asleep when they’re supposed to be.”
“Do you think he’ll be mad if we wake him?” Emily asked.
“Tristyn told us not to,” Charlotte reminded her.
“We
could poke him. Pokin’s not wakin’.”
“No—don’t poke him!”
“Mommy usually wakes up when we stand by her bed.”
“Because she’s got ’tuition,” Emily said. “Uncle Josh doesn’t got kids so he doesn’t got that.”
“He does have ears, though,” Josh said softly. “So maybe if you keep talking, he’ll hear you.”
“He’s awake,” Emily announced, clearly pleased by the discovery.
“But his eyes is c’osed,” Hanna protested.
He finally, reluctantly, lifted one eyelid, then the other.
Hanna rewarded him with a beaming smile. “Now he’s awake.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “What time is it?”
“Seven thirty-seven,” Charlotte told him.
Which wasn’t insanely early—it only felt insanely early because he’d slept so poorly the night before.
He glanced toward the closed door of the master bedroom. “I guess Tristyn’s still sleeping.”
The three girls all shook their heads. “She went for a walk,” Emily said.
“To get buttermilk,” Charlotte added.
“Fo’ pancakes!” Hanna chimed in.
He wondered where she could have walked to for buttermilk at such an early hour. Connected to the campground office was a small store with basic groceries and other essentials, but he doubted she would find buttermilk there.
“So you didn’t wake me up to make your breakfast,” he guessed.
“We wanna go swimmin’,” Hanna announced.
Only then did he notice that they were all wearing their swimsuits and holding beach towels.
“At seven thirty-seven in the morning?”
They nodded enthusiastically.
“It’s seven forty now,” Charlotte pointed out.
“And the splash pad and pool don’t open until ten,” he told them.
“Oh.”
But he got out of bed now and stumbled toward the coffeemaker, which—thanks to Tristyn—had already brewed a fresh pot of coffee. He poured the hot liquid into a mug and sipped carefully.
“Why do you drink coffee?” Emily asked.
“Because I like it,” he told her.
“Caffeine’s not good for you,” Charlotte informed him. “It will stunt your growth.”
“Since I’m pretty sure I’m finished growing, that’s not really a concern,” he said.
Tristyn returned just as he was starting on his second cup of coffee. She wished him a good morning and immediately set about making breakfast.
Charlotte looked at the container she’d brought back from the store.
“That’s not milk, it’s yogurt,” Charlotte said.
“I like yogurt,” Emily said. “Especially the kind with blueberries.”
“This is plain yogurt,” Tristyn explained. “They didn’t have buttermilk, so I’m going to improvise.”
“What’s improvise?” Emily asked.
“It means to make something from what’s available.”
“Are we still gonna have pancakes?” she wondered.
“Yes, we’re still going to have pancakes.”
“And then we can go swimming?”
“Then we can go swimming,” Tristyn confirmed, then she looked pointedly at Josh. “And that ‘we’ includes you.”
He could think of few things less appealing than a public pool crowded with screaming kids and weary parents. But then he added something to the picture in his mind: Tristyn in a bathing suit. A teeny, tiny bikini. And that prospect silenced any remaining protest. Lucy called just as the girls were finishing up their breakfast. Because of her work schedule and the time difference, she hadn’t been able to talk to the girls every day, although Josh did send her regular updates and occasional pictures of them.
When each of the girls had talked to her for a few minutes and Lucy finally said goodbye, Hanna started to cry. “I miss Mommy.”
“Don’t be a baby,” Charlotte snapped at her.
Emily’s eyes filled with tears, too, but she valiantly held them in check.
Hanna’s fell freely down her cheeks as she climbed into her uncle’s lap. “When’s she comin’ home, Unca Josh?”
“She’s hoping to be back by the twenty-ninth of August, but she’s doing a very important job in Spain and it might take longer than that,” he cautioned.
Emily was already looking at the calendar Tristyn had hung up on the fridge, counting the days. “The twenty-ninth isn’t so long,” she said.
“That’s the twenty-ninth of July, dummy,” Charlotte told her.
“Oh.” Emily’s face fell.
“Don’t call your sister names,” Josh admonished.
“Your mom will be home as soon as she can, because she misses you guys as much as you miss her,” Tristyn assured them.
“How do you know?” Charlotte challenged.
“Because she’s your mom—and there’s nothing harder for a mom than to be away from her children.”
“How do you know?” Charlotte asked again. “You don’t have any kids.”
“No, I don’t,” Tristyn acknowledged. “But I have two sisters and they both have kids, and I know they don’t like to be away from them for more than a few hours.”
“Why don’t you have kids?” Emily asked curiously.
“Um...” She glanced at Josh, who was fighting a smile, clearly amused by her interrogation at the hands of two little girls. “Because I’m not married,” she finally responded.
“You don’t have to be married to have kids,” Charlotte pointed out matter-of-factly. “Our mom wasn’t married when she had Emily and Hanna.”
“That’s true,” she acknowledged cautiously. “But I guess I always hoped to get married before I had kids.”
“When are you gonna get married?” Emily asked her.
“I have no idea,” Tristyn admitted.
“You could may-wee Unca Josh,” Hanna piped up.
The amusement on Josh’s face vanished and a slightly panicked expression took its place.
Tristyn shook her head. “I don’t see that happening.”
“Why not?” Charlotte asked. “You wouldn’t have agreed to come on this trip if you didn’t like Uncle Josh.”
“Of course, I like your uncle Josh,” she agreed. “But the real reason I decided to come on this trip is that I didn’t know if he could cook, and I wanted to be sure you guys wouldn’t starve.”
Emily giggled at that.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t let us starve.”
“Living on fast food is almost as bad,” Tristyn said.
“I fed them fast food twice,” he pointed out.
“Twice in two days.”
“And you’re trying to distract us from talking about your wedding plans,” he chided.
“Why don’t we talk about your wedding plans?” she countered. “Oh, right—because you don’t plan to ever get married.”
“Why not?” Emily asked, shifting her attention to her uncle.
Josh’s narrowed gaze promised retribution for Tristyn.
“Because he wants to...date...a different girl every night,” she said.
“Maybe I’d change my mind if I met a woman who could convince me that the advantages of spending my life with her outweighed the disadvantages of marriage.”
Tristyn was surprised by his response, until she realized he was simply attempting to appease his nieces.
“Can we go to the pool now?” Charlotte asked, clearly bored with the topic of conversation.
“As soon as your uncle gets his bathing suit on,” she agreed, grateful for the reprieve.
He went to put on his bathing suit.
Though both Charlotte and Emily claimed that they’d had swimming lessons, Josh bought them inflatable armbands to provide some extra peace of mind—probably for him more than the girls.
After almost two hours in the pool, they went back to the RV for lunch.
“When I was at the store this morning, I talked to Mrs. Halliday about extending our reservation,” Tristyn said, as she buttered slices of bread to make sandwiches.
“We can’t extend our reservation,” he argued. “Not if we’re going to make it to New Hampshire by next weekend.”
“I don’t think the girls are eager to head to another racetrack, especially not one that’s more than nine hundred miles away.”
“Wasn’t that the whole point of getting the RV?” he asked. “So that we could travel with the girls?”
“It was,” she confirmed. “And we will. I just think that it will be easier on all of us if we stay here and you fly to New Hampshire for the weekend.”
“The girls are my responsibility,” he reminded her. “And I’m not sure how I’d feel about being so far away from them when their mother is in another country.”
“I’ll be with them every minute of every day that you’re gone,” she told him.
“That’s a lot of minutes,” he warned.
“We’ll be fine. The girls have wanted to play mini-putt and I’m sure we’ll spend some more time at the pool and the playground. And if it rains, we’ve got a bin full of games, puzzles and books. Plus there’s an activity room in the community center with more games and dress-up clothes and craft supplies.” She assembled the sandwiches, cut them in halves—and Hanna’s in quarters—then set them on plates. “Besides,” she said, “Paris will most likely be in New Hampshire.”
“How is she a factor in any of this?”
Tristyn shrugged. “I understand the value of maintaining good relationships with the media.”
The Last Single Garrett Page 10