“That would be great. I’ll overnight my signed contract. If we can work it out before I get there, then I can keep everything separate. Don’t kill me if I have to combine the contract with the date though. This gives me hope. After our last few minutes together, I didn’t expect him to hold out so long. We got along really well,” Tristan responded honestly.
“I’m happy. Thank you for letting me pry.”
“Thank you for prying.” Tristan smiled.
“Good night then.”
“Good night.” Tristan lifted a hand and Teri returned the smile before the video went dead. Just like Secret promised, Tristan watched as the screen slowly ate up the message until there was no trace of it left.
Feeling a little better about things, Tristan quickly selected Dylan’s photo as his background picture on his phone. He and Teri had met and she seemed to approve of him. That had to be a milestone, even if Dylan wasn’t aware of the exchange. At least he had someone on the inside to have his back.
After seeing Dylan, his body ached. He needed to jack off. He grabbed his phone and left his home office. Tomorrow, he’d plan a trip to Dallas. He couldn’t really remember much about Dallas, except the incredible summer and the terrible politics. None of that mattered. He said a quick prayer. Something he rarely did.
Please let him accept my invitation.
Four days since Tristan had his heart-to-heart with Teri, he found himself talking to her every single day. She secretly kept him posted on Dylan, on his mood, how he acted, and anything she could get out of him about the two of them. She also sent him several pictures through email and text messaging. They were photos of a young Dylan and some through the years. One of him cooking dinner in their kitchen with two of their children helping in the process. Dylan never knew she’d taken that shot.
The contracts had been finalized, signatures being obtained. Everything moved forward as planned, all except this one little hitch, Dylan still hadn’t spoken to him in nine long days.
Planning his timing, Tristan paced the outside deck. Teri said Dylan always ended his day in his office, tying up the loose ends. They’d made a plan for him to call about five o’clock that afternoon, Dallas time. He’d thought about what to say over and over again. Practiced different scenarios, but in his heart, he knew Dylan needed to keep the personal side personal and the business side business, like Teri suggested. Tristan just had to learn to keep all those areas straight too.
Biting the bullet, he blocked his number and dialed Dylan’s direct dial extension. On the third ring, Tristan’s heart plummeted, on the fourth ring it soared.
“Dylan Reeves.” His voice sounded professional and maybe somewhat distracted. Whatever the tone, Tristan’s dick took notice.
“Hey, Dylan, it’s Tristan,” he said casually, staring out into the ocean. He watched the waves break in the surf as he listened for the man on the other end of the line.
“Did I lose you?” he asked after what he suspected was a full minute’s lag.
“No, I’m here,” Dylan answered and cleared his throat. “I thought Teri got everything to you this afternoon.”
“She did. This isn’t a work-related call.” Tristan paused, waiting for Dylan to respond. Nothing again. He took a deep breath, hoping to calm his own butterflies in his stomach.
“Did I lose you this time?” Tristan asked again.
“No,” Dylan said, his voice softer now.
“I waited until we got all the business settled between us. I want to come there and take you out,” Tristan blurted out nervously. Like an idiot! That was real smooth…he didn’t want to scare Dylan off, and he prayed he hadn’t overstepped that boundary.
“I thought we’d schedule an introduction-slash-celebration deal for the staff. Not just surprise them with you and your team showing up unannounced,” Dylan replied.
“No, that’s mixing business and personal. I want to come to Dallas this weekend and take you out on a date. I miss you,” Tristan tried to explain again. That confession had Dylan completely silent. Tristan held the line, waiting. He had an arsenal of comebacks and excuses prepared for however Dylan decided to decline his invitation.
“I don’t think that’s wise,” Dylan cleared his voice again.
“Just a date, nothing else,” Tristan shot back. He’d already decided, this wasn’t just about sex. He liked Dylan, liked him a lot, and wanted to spend time with him.
“No sex?” Dylan asked very quietly.
“Right,” he assured, immediately regretful. They were absolutely more than sex, but he’d been without for nine long days already. “Absolutely. Just the two of us hanging out.”
Dylan stared down at the desk phone like the thing had grown three legs. His brain had a hard time catching up. He blamed his slowness on the deep rich baritone of Tristan’s voice. Something he’d dreamed about for the last several nights. One of the hazards of taking sleeping medicine at night.
“You don’t want to have sex with me? You just want to go out?” Dylan asked again in his usual very direct way. “I’m confused. That’s all we did was have sex.”
A deep sigh filled the phone. “We did more than just have sex. Of course I want to make love to you, but not this time. We need to start things over—you know, from the beginning.”
“You know I can’t go out with you. Certainly not around here,” Dylan responded, sitting back in his chair, letting the familiar creak of the springs lull him as he rocked the nervous energy from his body.
“Then I’ll get a place. We can have dinner in my room,” Tristan offered up quickly. The man had definitely prepared for any excuse Dylan made.
“With no sex in your hotel room? And this isn’t business?” Dylan asked. Then what the hell was it?
“Correct. I’m thinking Friday night now,” Tristan stated.
“Dinner in your hotel room, no sex, and no business, on Friday?” Dylan asked, again disbelieving.
“Yes,” Tristan answered.
“I should say no.” Dylan wanted to answer yes, but his logical and moral compasses made the decision hard for him. He missed this man too much. He hurt on a level he had never experienced before in his life and the pain never subsided. His heart never stopped hurting no matter what he did.
“But you’re not going to, are you?” Tristan questioned.
“No, I’m not going to.” Dylan finally gave in. “Mainly because I can’t figure this out.” The conversation they were having now and what it meant, the depth of his desire for this man he’d known for all of a few days…none of it made sense.
“I’ll take what I can get. Now, until then, you can put me out of my misery and text me from time to time? Every email I’ve sent you includes my personal cell phone number,” Tristan pointed out.
Dylan stayed silent again. Personal stays personal, business stays business, and a date with no sex. Okay that was different than anything they had done before. Could Tristan be trying to move them in the direction of friendship? Better question, did Dylan even have it in him to go there with the guy? Probably not. He already knew he wanted more. He couldn’t hide his feelings well enough to pull off friendship.
Yet, if they could manage to be friends, then the next few years wouldn’t completely suck as he worked for Wilder and figured his life out.
“All right,” he finally said, not having any idea what he’d say in a text to Tristan.
“That didn’t sound convincing. What’s your cell phone number?” Tristan asked.
Dylan started to rattle off the digits and stopped. “You have my number. You’ve called me.” Before he even finished, his cell phone beeped. There was a text with a California area code.
“I think I heard your phone. That’s probably from me.”
“You just said ‘Hey, it’s Tristan.’ Not a lot to work with to start a friendly conversation,” Dylan responded into the phone, trying for some humor.
“We have to start somewhere,” he said, laughing a little. “I’m glad this w
orked. I’ve missed you. You’re good company.” On a deep sigh, Dylan closed his eyes and forced himself to treat Tristan like he would any of his buddies.
“Thank you for understanding everything,” Dylan said. They didn’t have much in common. Maybe Tristan golfed—he’d never thought to ask that question. So they were going to be friends. All right, he’d play along. Worship from afar and figure his shit out when the time came.
“Of course, no problem. I’ll message you details as I know them. I’ll see you Friday,” Tristan said.
“Thanks for calling,” Dylan offered, not sure how to end the call.
“Thanks for answering. We’ll talk more later. Goodbye.”
“Bye,” he said, hanging up the phone.
Friends. Okay. He could try friendship. He already knew how to long from afar. Ambien had become his friend where that was concerned. Maybe seeing Tristan in this capacity was better than not seeing him at all, because he knew how bad that prospect sucked firsthand.
“You look good,” Teri said, leaning against the doorframe between their bedroom and bathroom. Dylan stood at the sink wearing nothing but his boxers while shaving. He moved his eyes from the swipe of the razor and looked over at Teri then focused his gaze back on the blade sliding across his face. Once done, he rinsed and answered.
“Are you making fun of me?” Dylan asked, bringing the blade back to his cheek for another swipe.
“Not at all. Your hair’s perfect. The tan looks great. I saw the clothes on the bed. You’re gonna impress,” Teri exclaimed, grinning big. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you this way.”
“The best I can hope for is passable. You should see him,” Dylan mumbled, rinsing the blade again.
“You’re gonna hold your own, trust me. Is there any chance you’ll be seen?” she asked. Over the years, Teri had been a professional at being seen out without being noticed. Dylan not so much. He’d be too skittish. He was just never any good at lying. It was why he stayed quiet so much of the time.
“We’re having dinner in his room. No big deal. It’s not like that anymore.” Dylan bent over the sink and ran water over his face to wipe away the remnants of the lather.
“I’m glad you’re doing this,” Teri piped in. Dylan checked his face, made sure he got everything off, and dried himself before he scooted past her in the doorway.
“I don’t know. It’s been a hard couple of weeks. I don’t want to put the kids through all my moods again.” Dylan pulled his slacks on.
“I think they’re sturdier than you give them credit for,” Teri countered.
“Not now, it’s not fair. This should be the time of their lives. Their only focus should be graduating and starting college. Not that their father’s gay and can’t keep his emotional shit together,” he repeated. This time out loud, the other million or so times had been a running chorus through his head.
“That’s not the way we raised our children. We’re a family and stick together no matter what,” Teri started, but Dylan stopped her as he carefully pulled the polo over his head, trying not to mess up the nice cut his hairdresser had given him.
“We’ve had this talk. When did you become such a fan of Tristan’s?” Dylan asked, tucking his shirt inside his khakis before fastening them. The belt was last. He pushed the leather through the loops as he walked across the bedroom to the dresser mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing out the ends, satisfied with what he saw.
When he realized Teri hadn’t answered, he looked back over his shoulder. She stood there, staring intently at him. She was fighting something; she had the look. He knew her too well.
“What’s wrong?”
“You look good, I promise,” she said, snapping out of whatever held her thoughts. She walked over to him without giving him any clue. “What about cologne? I think the Armani Code Ultimate I got you for Christmas last year.” She fingered through the different scents until she found the dark bottle. “It’s unusual.”
He didn’t question the selection—she always knew better about these things—and gave himself a couple of sprays. He grabbed his wallet, dropping it in his back pocket, and then his keys and money clip—those went to his front pocket.
“Perfect. Are you wearing a jacket?”
“I thought my bomber,” he replied.
“Good. I like that one the best on you. You’ll look like a classic movie star,” she said dreamily as he grabbed the jacket from his closet. Once done he went to stand in front of her for better inspection. She grinned at him, fixing his collar under the jacket.
“He’s not gonna know what hit him,” Teri stated confidently, her smile growing broader.
“We decided we’re gonna be friends. I keep telling you that.”
“Take his picture if you can tonight. Damn, I wanna see him when he opens that door.” Teri winked at him.
“You’re good for the ego, even if you do lie,” he chuckled and watched another round of something he couldn’t explain cross over her face. “You all right?”
“I’m fine, why?”
“You’re being weird.” He shook his head at her continued silence. “I need to get going. I’m gonna be late.”
“Have fun,” Teri exclaimed before opening their bedroom door.
“I’ll be home early,” he responded, walking down their hall. The kids’ rooms were on the other side of the house. A catwalk separated the two areas.
“I hope not,” she whispered, taking the back staircase down to the first floor. Dylan rolled his eyes at her. “Stay for the weekend if you can.”
Cate entered from the side garage door as he was headed out. “Dad, you look handsome!”
“Thanks, baby,” he leaned in for her kiss.
“Mom, you shouldn’t let him go out like this. Miranda’s dad left her mom for a twenty-year-old. They said it’s a mid-life crisis,” Cate stated-matter-of-factly.
“Wait a second. Miranda’s dad’s like fifty. I’m only thirty-seven. I’m not old enough for a mid-life crisis. You give me a compliment, then insult me by saying I’m old?” Dylan teased, walking out into the garage. That got Cate laughing. “Sheesh!”
“It’s all downhill from here!” Teri called out. “Have fun. See you later.”
“Where’s he going?” Cate asked Teri as the garage door closed. He’d escaped that question. He’d have to remember to ask what she said.
Tristan had paced the small suite for the last hour, waiting on Dylan to arrive. His bright idea of a date stressed him the hell out. Besides the fact he’d spent more money on this date than he had on his last trip to Jamaica, now he had to wait for Dylan to arrive.
Tristan looked around the living room. He’d had several matching hollyhock bouquets added to the suite. Dylan had stopped their run at Crystal Cove to touch the delicate blooms lining the path. The fact he remembered had to mean something with all the huffing and puffing he’d been doing. From his estimation, the sheer amount of sweat pouring from his body should have made it impossible to even note Dylan’s actions, but it hadn’t. Tristan had been sucking in much needed air while watching Dylan carefully take a step or two into the wildflowers, bending ever so slightly to breathe them in.
Not only had he remembered, but that had been the moment Dylan cemented into his heart.
Since calling Dylan on Tuesday, he had texted with him several times. It took some time, but he finally understood that Dylan truly believed that starting over meant building a friendship, not a relationship. Dylan came off totally awkward in his messages, which was something they had never been before. Tristan hated that and the distance Dylan put between them. They fit so well together from the beginning. At least to him, they were fluid from the very first kiss.
Maybe he was bored with life and that was why he was doing all this. Nah, that wasn’t it at all. Dylan was a keeper. He just had to find the way to keep him.
Tristan did another sweep of the room to make sure nothing faded under the late start. He had candles lit,
lamp shades glowing, soft music playing, and several bottles of grossly expensive wine chilling. He had a waitstaff on standby with a five-course meal prepared by Wolfgang Puck waiting on one single man to arrive. He’d even gone out and bought new clothing for the occasion.
All of a sudden, Tristan felt incredibly ridiculous for all this preparation. Dylan didn’t require any of this. He was a normal guy, but dammit, he wanted to romance him into a relationship.
A soft knock sounded from the doorway. Tristan debated right then. Did he have time to change any of this? No, not really. If that was Dylan, he was committed to the evening as he’d painstakingly planned. Damn.
On the second knock, Tristan went for the door, checking his appearance in a side mirror as he passed by.
“Hi,” he said, opening the door, plastering a smile on his face. Dylan stood outside the door, his hands in the pockets of his khakis, looking hot as hell. Tristan needed the reassurance of this moment. He knew right then he’d made all these decisions for the right reasons. “Come in.”
“Traffic was terrible. I’m sorry I’m late,” Dylan apologized as he stepped inside.
“You weren’t late at all. It’s whenever you could get here. You look different,” Tristan said, looking Dylan over, trying to pinpoint what had changed about him. He didn’t think Dylan could be a better-looking guy, but something he’d done heightened that.
“You dressed up,” Dylan replied. That hadn’t answered Tristan’s question, but it had him looking down at his clothing. Then over at Dylan’s.
“I wanted to dress like I would if you had let me take you out. Is it too much?”
There was silence as Dylan stared at him. It took a minute before he came back with a, “No, you look great. I just dressed like we were having dinner in your room.” Dylan looked down at his clothes. Tristan thought Dylan may have clued in right at that moment that this was more than friends for Tristan. They both became nervous, and for some reason, that helped calm Tristan.
Secret Page 19