Just Deserts (Kimani Romance)

by Jackson, Brenda

  He could distinctively recall how the Timmons family had stuck by him and helped him make all the necessary funeral arrangements. His mother, Zora Adams’s only child, had shown up a week after the funeral to inquire if anything had been left to her. When she discovered her only inheritance was the family Bible, she’d tossed it aside angrily and left town again. The last time Tristan had seen his mother was three years ago. She’d shown up, down on her luck, and asked for money.

  Tristan turned when he heard footsteps on the hardwood floor and glanced up to see Simon Craven enter the room. He noted the man’s gaze swept past him directly to Danielle and stopped. Simon opened his mouth to speak, then seemed rendered speechless. Tristan wasn’t surprised. Danielle had that sort of effect on men. And especially today wearing a blue, lace-trimmed Versace cami beneath a multicolored poplin shirt, a pair of skinny jeans and short, chocolate-colored suede boots on her feet.

  Seeing the hulking NFL fullback so tongue-tied, Tristan thought it best to initiate introductions. But Danielle, being the effervescent and vivacious PR person that she was, stepped forward and extended her hand.

  “Mr. Craven, I’m Danielle Timmons and this is my partner—”

  “I know who you are, Ms. Timmons,” Craven said, cutting in and taking the hand she offered. “I remember you well as a fashion model. We met once, years ago, at a party in New York.”

  The bright smile on Danielle’s face turned into an apologetic one. “Sorry, I don’t remember. As a model I met so many people….”

  The man finally released her hand, nodded and said, “That’s understandable, but I do miss your face on magazines now.”

  Tristan thought it was time he introduced himself. Obviously Craven was taken with Danielle. “And I’m Tristan Adams, Danielle’s business partner.”

  Maybe it was the way he had cut in to introduce himself, Tristan thought. Or maybe it was the look in his eye that said there was more to his and Danielle’s relationship than business. Regardless of the reason, Tristan knew the exact moment Simon Craven picked up on it.

  “Mr. Adams, I’m sorry about that,” Craven said, giving him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I truly didn’t mean to overlook you, but I was just taken aback when I walked in and saw Dani Timmons sitting in my living room.”

  “I understand. So we won’t take up too much of your time, we would like to go ahead and discuss our interest in Shipping Source.”

  “Certainly, and I hope the two of you don’t mind that I’ve asked the company’s attorney to attend so he can answer any questions you might have. I have very little dealings with my father’s company.”

  “No, we don’t mind,” Tristan said, glancing at Danielle for affirmation. When she nodded in agreement, Tristan said to the man, “You have a beautiful home.”

  “Thank you.” Craven looked at Danielle again before returning his gaze to Tristan. “And you, Mr. Adams, have a beautiful business partner.”

  “I think the meeting went well.” Danielle threw her jacket across a chair when they returned to their hotel room. She tried brushing aside the thought that Tristan had been pretty quiet on the car ride from Simon Craven’s home.

  Tristan sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote. “Yes, things started going well once Craven and his attorney finally got down to business. I don’t know which of them was worse. You’d think they’d never seen a beautiful woman before.”

  Danielle appreciated the compliment, but couldn’t ignore the irritation in Tristan’s voice. “I thought they were just being nice.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Dani, Ray Stewart was coming on to you.”

  She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. “No, he wasn’t.”

  “Yes, he was.”

  Sighing deeply, she crossed the room and sat beside Tristan on the sofa. “Okay, and what if he was, Tristan? Why are you making such a big deal out of it?”

  “I’m not.”

  She gave him an odd look. “Aren’t you?”

  Instead of giving her an answer, he stood and walked over to the window. Was he making a big deal out of it? He knew why it had bothered him when those two men had openly flirted with her. It was because he loved her.

  But she didn’t know that. She had enough on her plate without him overloading her with his emotions. Just because he was feeling them didn’t mean he should expect her to feel them, too. In her eyes they were friends who were also bed partners.

  “Tristan?”

  He inhaled deeply as he turned to her. She looked as sexy as any one woman could look. Nothing detracted from her sexiness. Not even the frown on her face. It was a frown he’d put there.

  He walked back over to her, took her hand and pulled her up and into his arms. “You’re right. It’s no big deal.”

  “No, it must have been a big deal to you,” she said. “Those men flirted with me and it bothered you. Men have flirted with me before around you. Why is it bothering you now? Is it because we’ve slept together? Is that what’s making you crazy?”

  Crazy?

  He wanted to laugh. He was in love with her, was acting like a besotted fool, and she thought he was acting crazy? Something snapped inside him. “I guess knowing that other men want you the way I have had you the last few days is making me crazy, Dani.”

  She shrugged out of his arms and moved toward her bedroom door. Before opening it, she paused and said, “Then I think you need to get over it.”

  She disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, and he could swear he heard it lock. He was tempted to check, but changed his mind. He was mad enough as it was.

  He went into his own bedroom and all but slammed the door. Crap. He couldn’t recall the last time a woman had gotten on his last nerve, had pissed him off to the point where he wanted to break something.

  No, he hadn’t liked the way those men had looked at Dani. He had seen lust in their eyes. When she had crossed the room to seek out the bathroom, they had watched her runway walk—straight and confident, hips swaying. It was a wonder Craven’s and Stewart’s eyes hadn’t popped out of the sockets.

  Tristan had just taken off his shirt to take a shower when he heard a knock on his bedroom door. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, he crossed the room and snatched it open. Danielle was standing there, and from the expression on her face it was obvious she was still mad.

  “Furthermore, Tristan,” she said with hands on her hips, “I don’t like it when you act jealous. There’s no reason for it. It’s not like we’re real lovers or anything. We’re just best friends.”

  He stared at her. Real lovers? He rested a shoulder against the doorjamb and crossed his legs at the ankles. “Please define ‘real lovers’ for me, Dani.”

  His question evidently caught her off guard, and he watched her frown deepen as she thought about how to answer him. Finally she said, “Real lovers are two people who are an item. They are…they are…”

  He raised a brow. “They are what, Dani? Enemies? Then that would explain why we aren’t a real couple, since we’re friends. Or is it that they’re strangers? That wouldn’t work, either, because we aren’t strangers. Or I guess you can say they’re in love. But I guess you’ll blow that away, too, since you think we aren’t in love.”

  “We aren’t!”

  She had answered too quickly to suit him. “Okay, so we aren’t in love,” he said through clenched teeth. “Is that what makes us not a real couple?”

  “Of course not. We’re not a real couple because we’re only doing this—”

  “Doing what?” he butted in to ask.

  She waved her hand through the air as if brushing away something. Like his nonsense. “Doing this. You know, sleeping together and all that stuff. We’re only doing it because you needed it and I did, too. We were getting desperate. We’re good together in bed. We’re friends. But we don’t own each other.”

  “Fine. You’ve made your point. Is there anything else, Dani?”

  She shrugged. “No,
I guess not.”

  “All right, then, if you don’t mind I’m about to take a shower.” He knew closing the door on her would be rude, but more than anything he wanted to be left alone and deal with his hurt. Each and every time they’d made love he’d thought of it as just that, making love. Apparently, though, she had seen it as nothing more than a case of satisfying needs.

  “I’m going to order a movie on television later. Do you want to watch it with me?” she asked in a somewhat softer voice.

  A part of him wanted to say yes, but another part—the one that was hurting—said, “No, I think I’ll go over all those documents Stewart gave us to look at. If we’re seriously thinking about taking on Shipping Source, then we need to know everything about the company, as well as its employees.”

  “All right, but if you change your mind, I’ll be in my bedroom.”

  He watched as she turned and walked away, crossing the sitting room to her bedroom and closing the door behind her.

  He ran a tired and frustrated hand down his face. Damn, it wasn’t Danielle’s fault that he loved her so much and that for the first time in his life he had wanted to hurt someone, a couple of people, over a woman.

  He closed the door to his bedroom and began stripping off the rest of his clothes as he headed for the bathroom. He hoped the water blast from the shower would somehow wash some sense into him, because he suddenly felt like a love-smitten fool.

  An angry Danielle snatched her cell phone off the dresser, wishing she could snatch the scalp off Tristan’s head, instead. What on earth was the matter with him? With a soft curse she punched in a few numbers and waited. Boy, was she mad.

  “Hello?”

  “Alex? This is Danielle,” she tried saying in a calm voice. “We need to talk. Hold on and let me get Renée on the line with us.”

  Before Alex could either agree or protest, she was placed on hold while Danielle switched over to punch in Renée’s number. As soon as Renée answered, Danielle said, “Hold on Renée, let me pull in Alex.” And with a flip of the wrist she had both women on the line with her.

  “So what’s going on?” she asked, determined not to let Tristan get on her last nerve, but inwardly acknowledging he already had.

  Not surprisingly, it was Alex who answered. “I took Little Sweetie to be groomed today.” And as if on queue, the sound of the dog’s bark could be heard.

  Danielle rolled her eyes. “That’s nice. Have either of you heard anything more about—”

  “Where’s Tristan?” Renée interrupted to ask.

  Danielle rolled her eyes again. “He’s in his bedroom.”

  “Then why aren’t you in there with him, instead of waking us up in the middle of the night?”

  Danielle winced. She’d forgotten about the different time zones. “Sorry, guys, I didn’t think to check. I’ll let you—”

  “What’s wrong, Danielle? I can tell something is bothering you,” Alex said in a soft voice. Danielle could hear genuine concern in her voice, and she knew that no matter what had brought the three of them together, somehow they’d become a sisterhood. Normally, when something bothered her she could go to Tristan and talk about it, but she couldn’t do that in this situation because her problem was Tristan.

  “He made me mad,” she heard herself saying.

  “What did he do?” Renée asked in a tone that indicated she was now alert.

  “Well, we’re thinking about expanding the business, so today we met with a potential business associate. The man and his attorney remembered me from my modeling days and they were very kind and—”

  “In other words,” Renée said, interrupting, “they fawned all over you, instead of paying attention to the business at hand.”

  Danielle rolled her eyes. “Like I said, they were nice and Tristan got mad about it.”

  “And why do you think he got mad, Danielle?”

  “He evidently thinks that now that we’ve shared a bed he can—”

  “Oh, the two of you finally got around to doing that, huh?” Alex asked sweetly.

  Danielle frowned. “Look, Alex, I’m not in the mood.”

  “Then that’s a personal problem. Hunter can attest that I’m always in the mood. He has no complaints.”

  “Alex, I think Danielle meant that she was not in the mood for us to make any comment about her and Tristan finally getting around to doing it.” Renée’s tone was the epitome of decorum, thanks to all those classes she’d told them she’d taken over the years.

  “Oh.”

  Danielle shook her head. She couldn’t help but smile. “You two are simply crazy.”

  “But you love us anyway, right?” Alex said, chuckling.

  Danielle could imagine Alex wiping her curls away from her face when she’d made the statement. “Yeah, I love you guys.” And she meant it.

  “And Tristan loves you, Danielle,” Renée said.

  “Of course he loves me. I’m his best friend, although I could just kill him!”

  “I think he’s more than your best friend now, Danielle,” Alex pointed out.

  “No, we’re still best friends, and that’s what has me upset. He got mad at those guys for no reason.”

  “Sounds like there was a reason,” Renée piped in. “He loves you. And I’m not talking about best-friend love or brotherly love. I’m talking about the same kind of love Hunter has for Alex and that Chris has for me. That man-love-woman kind of love.”

  “That’s crazy!” Danielle said adamantly. “It’s not that way between us.”

  “Then explain why the two of you slept together,” Renée said.

  When seconds passed and Danielle didn’t say anything, it was Alex who spoke. “We’re waiting to hear the reason, wife-in-law.”

  Danielle nervously gnawed on her bottom lip for a second and decided to come clean. “We were desperate.”

  There was silence on the other end. And then Alex asked, “Desperate for what?”

  “For each other,” Renée answered for Danielle. “Am I right, Danielle?”

  Danielle nodded her head, and then when she realized they couldn’t see her affirmation, she said, “Yes, you’re right. Thanks to Marc, it had been a long time for me and I was in a bad way. And Tristan hadn’t dated in a long time, either, and he was in a bad way, too, so we decided to use each other to take the edge off.”

  “And you think that’s the reason the two of you slept together?” Renée asked in a soft voice.

  “Yes, that’s the reason.” Danielle could imagine Renée, sitting in the middle of her bed, trying to keep her expression calm. Alex, she figured, was sitting up in bed patting Little Sweetie on the head. She thought of something. “Alex, where’s Hunter?”

  “He’s lying beside me, asleep. I wore him out tonight.”

  Neither Danielle nor Renée had to ask how.

  “Danielle, I think you need to take time to think about why Tristan got upset. There is a reason he got jealous, and until you come to terms with that reason, as well as the reason the two of you shared a bed, then he’s going to always get mad when men come on to you.”

  “But we’re nothing more than best friends,” Danielle said, trying to get them to understand.

  “Yes, you can still be best friends, but now the two of you are also lovers, and with that comes a load of responsibility and respect,” Renée explained. “Tristan probably feels like those men disrespected him—not as your best friend, but as your lover. Think about it.”

  When Danielle didn’t say anything, Alex asked, “Did the two of you use any kind of birth control?”

  Danielle’s shoulders stiffened. The corners of her lips twitched in a smile when she realized they hadn’t. She couldn’t help recall the comment Tristan had made that first night before they’d made love. He had made love knowing there was a possibility that each time he did so she could get pregnant. Yet it hadn’t mattered, because he’d known she wanted a baby, had always wanted a baby, and he’d been willing to give her the one thing s
he’d always wanted. He’d taken it upon himself to right Marc’s wrong.

  “Danielle?”

  She inhaled deeply. “No, we didn’t use any kind of protection.”

  “Then you might want to add ‘father of your child’ to the list for Tristan,” Alex said.

  Danielle reached down and touched her stomach. “Yes,” she said, wiping sudden tears from her eyes. “I might have to do that.” She pulled in a deep breath. “Look, guys, I need some time by myself to think.”

  “That’s a good idea. Call us back if you want to talk again,” Renée said.

  “I will and thanks. You two are special.”

  “We think you’re special, too, being the oldest and all,” Alex said with a grin in her voice.

  A few moments later, after she’d hung up the phone, Danielle couldn’t help but think that there’d been one good thing to come out of this mess with Marc. His three wives had become close friends.

  And then she couldn’t help but think of Tristan and their argument. They’d had arguments before but nothing as serious as this. This one had been heated and emotional. In her opinion he was acting crazy. But then, how was he supposed to act?

  She didn’t agree with Renée’s and Alex’s view of things—that Tristan was in love with her in a man-woman way. He’d always been overprotective of her, and now their sexual involvement only increased that protectiveness.

  That was it. Tristan was her best friend. He was her lover, and like Renée and Alex had pointed out, he could also be the father of her child.

  She felt a stirring in her stomach when she was reminded of the past couple of days and how much she’d enjoyed being with him—both in and out of bed. But she had to admit she really enjoyed the bed part. Sensual longing wrapped itself around her and she immediately recognized it for what it was: her body wanted Tristan. But more than anything, she wanted her best friend back.

  Chapter 8

  Tristan tossed the last of the documents aside, not able to concentrate any longer. The place was quiet, except for the hum of the television coming from Danielle’s bedroom. Evidently she was watching the movie, one she’d invited him to watch with her. Instead, he’d turned her down to read a bunch of boring papers. At least they’d been boring tonight. Tomorrow they might hold his interest.