Love and Trust

by Jean Oram

  Daphne gave her a half smile. “Yeah.”

  “Can I interview you for an essay I have to write for work experience?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Daphne still seemed distracted and Melanie tried to pull her mind off Tristen long enough to figure out what was up. He hooked her pinkie with his index finger, keeping her close as she drifted out of his arms.

  “You okay?” she asked Daphne. Her sister wasn’t herself at the moment and Melanie wondered if Aaron had talked to her, too.

  “Yeah, fine.” She gave a small smile. “Just thinking.”

  Tristen, standing behind Melanie, lightly touched her elbow, letting her know he was still there. Tingles ran up her arm from the contact, giving her shivers despite the early evening sun. Melanie turned to face him, hooking both hands in his, becoming lost in his gaze.

  She heard Daphne say, “Okay, I have Dot, if that’s okay with you, Tristen?”

  He gave a chin lift that sufficed for a nod.

  “Okay, then. See you later. Much later,” Daphne said, giving them space.

  “I have the best sister in the world.”

  “I agree. Unless you are plotting my murder and she’s dealing with potential witnesses, in which case I may retract my agreement.” There was a hint of a smile in his eyes.

  Why were they still standing here? She was desperate to have him. Something carnal to prove to herself once again that his gestures, kisses, and smoldering looks were the beginning of something.

  Melanie slipped her arm through his, holding her breath as she asked, “Want to do something?”

  He didn’t say a word for a moment, then murmured, “Yeah, let’s do something.” His eyes were caught on her lower lip and she ran her tongue over it. His attention was making her nervous. He drifted closer, his side pushing into hers.

  “Kiss me,” she said.

  “Better idea.” He pulled her toward the parking lot. “You drive here?”

  “No, Daphne gave me a ride.”

  “Good.”

  Tristen opened the passenger door to his truck with a creak, and hurriedly helped her in. He was in a rush and that was fine by her. She needed to find out if what she felt and saw between them was as real as she believed.

  Tristen, in a move that surprised her, leaped into the passenger’s side, clutching the door frame with his left hand as he swung his lips to hers. His warm fingers clutched the back of her neck and her arms flowed around him, pulling him closer. He kissed her long and deep, his tongue probing.

  Hurry, they needed to hurry.

  His eyes were hooded with passion and longing when he leaned back, his broad shoulders blocking her view of the outside world. “Can I take you home, Melanie Summer?”

  “Please do. And ignore the speed limit.”

  * * *

  Melanie couldn’t stop smiling. She snuggled closer to Tristen’s warm, naked body, her cheek resting on his firm pectorals. He was even more ripped than she’d remembered. All that working with rock had done amazing things to his body. And in turn, his amazing body had done mind-blowing things to hers.

  She never wanted to leave his bed. If he trapped her here forever, not letting her go, she’d be more than okay with it.

  His fingers lazily drifted up and down her bare back, pausing to lift a handful of curls off her neck. She felt as though she could melt into him.

  “I love it here,” she whispered.

  “My house?”

  “In your arms.”

  He pulled her tighter, kissing the top of her head. “Yeah.”

  It was difficult not to say the words that wanted to trip off her tongue. That she loved him. That things felt right when he was around. That, finally, she felt as though someone understood her and shared the same wavelength. That someone was there. Yet it wasn’t about loneliness. She’d come to terms with that long ago. This was about being alone. When he was around she didn’t feel as though she had to do it all herself. There was someone else there to lean on. To be her rock. A teammate.

  She was falling hard. And she didn’t know if he was, but it felt as though he might be. She didn’t believe she was someone who needed to hear the words, but she still wanted to. To ensure that the gestures meant what she thought they did. He was a gentleman, but he took extra care with her. She could see that. The way he was always there, watching, ready to catch her.

  Would he say those words she needed to hear?

  Did it matter if she was happier now than she could ever remember?

  She wanted to tell herself it didn’t, but she knew that it would be lying.

  * * *

  It was Cindy. Great. He’d just made early morning love to Melanie, making that slight worried, questioning look in her eyes disappear almost completely, and now his ex had to show up, ready to ruin everything.

  A large ring that hadn’t been purchased by him flashed on Cindy’s finger. Its significance both bothered and relieved him. Bothered him because she hadn’t told him she’d found someone new. Relieved him because she had.

  “Hey,” he said, walking to her car, cup of coffee in hand. He was still in his pajama pants and an old T-shirt, and it made him wonder just how early his ex had gotten up to drive all the way here for her latest mission.

  He blocked her from moving forward. He didn’t want her in his home. Didn’t want her acting as though she owned the place.

  A man he presumed to be Cindy’s new husband got out of the passenger side and Tristen shook the short man’s hand, offering them both congratulations.

  “Does Dot know?”

  Cindy shared a guilty glance with her new man. She gave a small nod. “Yeah. She didn’t want to go with us for the elopement.”

  “So you dumped her on me?”

  That sounded wrong. His daughter could never be dumped on him because she was always welcome.

  “Yeah. I figured it was your turn to deal with all of that.” Cindy gave him a smirk.

  “Thanks.”

  Another smirk. She obviously thought he was being sarcastic.

  He took a sip of his coffee, wondering how he hadn’t been able to see how jaded and bitchy Cindy had become. She used to be…well, she’d always sort of had that side to her, but it seemed as though his presence amplified it these days. “For what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

  “Dot texted me a few days ago. She said she wanted to come home,” Cindy replied.

  “And so you’re just coming now? Unannounced, I might add.” Tristen widened his stance, knowing his attitude would intimidate the new husband, who was likely here for one reason only—to intimidate Tristen into doing whatever Cindy wanted.

  Get a real job, buddy.

  This was his turf, his kid. Dot may have wanted to go home, but he was certain she’d prefer to stay now that the Rubicore thing was heating up. She’d want to see it through as far as she could.

  “She still has fifteen hours of work experience to complete,” he said, arms crossed. “I think she’ll want to stay.”

  “I’d like to hear it from her.”

  “By all means.”

  His ex began moving to the front door.

  “I’ll have her come out.” His voice was firm, a warning, and Cindy halted and muttered something under her breath. He turned. “What?” he demanded.

  “I know that look, Tristen.” Cindy’s voice had an angry tremble. “Like you own the whole friggin’ world. Well, you don’t, okay? You don’t. I liked the new Tristen better.”

  The new Tristen was a scared pansy hiding out from the world. The old Tristen had been powered by greed and a need to prove himself to Cindy, so she’d finally show him some love. How wrong he’d been. The two of them had never truly understood each other.

  There had never been anything wrong with him. He’d simply been with the wrong woman. But now he wasn’t, and life was about to get good.

  “This is who I am,” he said, spreading out his arms. “Take it or leave it.”

  “I think I already did.”


  He smiled. It was time to set the record straight on how things were going to be from here on out.

  “If you need help with your business, let me know. Dot said it’s struggling.”

  “It’s fine,” Cindy said, her voice tight.

  “What do you need?”

  “From you? Nothing.” Her eyes snapped and flashed. “You sold it, remember? Ran away from it all.”

  “As a wise woman once told me, we’re all still connected. I’d like to help if I can. Not a lot, but somehow.”

  “Get over yourself. I’m here for Dot.”

  “She’s come into her own, you know. And I’d like to see her more. Maybe every summer. Holidays. Every other weekend. I’ll make the drive.”

  “Oh?” His wife gave him a saucy look. “In the less than two weeks you’ve had her you’ve turned her around and think you’re going to make daddy of the year? Bring her out.”

  “You’ve done a good job with her.” His voice was just above a whisper, and Cindy froze, caught, hanging on his every word. “She’s an amazing young woman.”

  His ex blinked back tears, chin raised. “Yeah, on my own.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t realize what you needed. It didn’t occur to me that what I was giving you and Dot meant nothing to you.”

  Cindy was blinking rapidly now. Her new husband moved closer to try and save the day. Too late for that, man. His old life with Cindy had crashed and burned. It was time to listen to the relationship’s black box and bury the dead.

  “She values spending time together more than gifts,” he said to the man.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Tristen smiled. He’d had her first and it was killing the other man. Good. These two might actually make it together.

  “I’ll get Dot for you.”

  Their daughter was already at the door, listening, her eyes puffy from sleep. And he hoped nothing else. She crossed her arms, Max growling at her side. “I’m not going back to Toronto.”

  Cindy’s plucked brows lifted.

  “I have a work experience job here. And I need to help with Rubicore.”

  “Rubicore?” Cindy’s eyes widened and she turned to Tristen. “Rubicore?” she repeated. “Do you not listen to me, ever?”

  “Pretty much…nope.” He slung an easy arm around his daughter, as Max kept an eye on the strangers. “We’re showing them a thing or two about how to treat the environment. Aren’t we, kid?”

  Dot smiled. “Damn straight, Dad.”

  “Language,” both parents warned at the same time.

  Cindy drew herself up, uncertain.

  “Can I keep her until the end of summer?” Tristen asked. “We have some lost time to make up for.”

  * * *

  Tristen stood in his kitchen, his ex gone, his daughter tossing a stick for Max out on the small grassy slope beside the house. Being with Melanie, he felt as though he could slip into infinity. His world was already losing its edges, bleeding into hers.

  He understood it now. The puppy dog men who seemed content to lead the life of the completely whipped. The husbands who followed their wives through the mall, carrying their shopping, holding their purses, waiting outside stores and doing the “man stand” outside change rooms. It wasn’t being whipped, it was about contentment. About being close to the woman you loved, and receiving comfort by being in her presence.

  It was about being with her. When you were apart, you no longer felt whole. Now he understood why Cindy had felt neglected. It wasn’t just about him not saying “I love you” enough.

  He poured a fresh cup of coffee, mixed in cream and sugar, and brought it to his bedroom, where Melanie was dead to the world, stretched out under the sheets like a Renaissance painting. His.

  Or he’d like her to be.

  They needed to talk, and putting his feelings into words would be hard. He’d failed Cindy, but he wouldn’t make the same mistakes with Melanie. He could show her his love, but he needed to find a way to say the words.

  He waved the coffee under her nose, careful not to spill it on the robin’s-egg-blue sheets. She smiled and stirred.

  “I had a dream your ex was here to take Dot away from you,” she mumbled, her voice endearingly thick with sleep.

  He leaned down to kiss her lips. “It wasn’t a dream, my fair maiden. But I vanquished and triumphed.”

  She rolled onto her back, careful to keep the sheet covering her breasts. Her pale skin was so plush and beautiful he wanted to pull her against him and make love to her again and again.

  “Vanquished?” she asked.

  “Cindy was here. But Dot is staying.”

  Melanie propped herself up, exposing more pearly skin as she sipped the warm drink. Her eyes closed and she inhaled happily. “This is perfect. Thank you, Tristen.”

  He smiled and massaged her foot. He loved the fact that she’d thanked him and relished this quiet moment between them, in no hurry to run off anywhere. It was a privilege being the first person she saw when she woke in the morning, and he hoped it was one he would have again and again.

  “I really like having you here, Melanie.”

  She flashed a hint of a smile.

  He felt bashful, like a ten-year-old boy revealing his crush to the object of his affections. “I like you.”

  “Good.” She gave a small nod and got out of bed, the sheet trailing behind.

  That was all? No Where is the ‘I love you’?

  “We’re okay?” he asked tentatively.

  “Is there a reason we shouldn’t be?” Her expression turned wary, her shoulders tight.

  “Not at all. But what about you?”

  “Me?”

  “Do you like me, too?”

  “Well, I do hop into bed with just about anyone.” She shot him a sassy wink. “So I can see how you might get confused.” Smiling, she came close and stroked the stubble on his jaw.

  “Okay, so we like each other. Do you trust me?”

  “Yeah,” she said thoughtfully. “I do.”

  “Even though I am not always so great with words?”

  She laughed, her chest bouncing. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Er, no.”

  “Tristen Bell, you are the complete package. You know that?” She slipped her fingers over his shoulders, plucking at the fabric of his old T-shirt. “You show me you care in so many ways. All the little things you do for me, making sure I’m okay. Those mean more to me than silly words.” She turned shy, her cheeks pink. “It’s how I know.”

  Feeling lighter than he had in years, he cornered her by the dresser, pulling her tight against him. He gave her a kiss that should resolve any lingering doubts as to his intentions. “You look like a goddess with your hair all disheveled, the sheet draped in front of you like that. Very Renaissance.”

  “Okay, now you’re just trying to get me back into bed with you.”

  “Is it working?”

  She laughed and pushed him away. Then tipped her head in the direction of Dot’s room, eyebrows raised.

  Tristen eased closer, placing his hips against hers. “She’s outside playing with the dog.” He kissed Melanie again, the sheet dropping from her body as they wrapped their arms around each other and fell onto the bed.

  An incredible way to start the day.

  CHAPTER 14

  Before Melanie could figure out what had gone wrong at the picnic, Tristen was flying around her, his fist connecting with another man’s face.

  “Not on my watch!” Tristen shouted as bones crunched.

  Tigger, who had been talking to the knuckle-sandwich eater, raced to her mother’s side, eyes wide with fright. Melanie, still not comprehending what was happening, pulled Tristen away from the man.

  Mistral.

  Oh, of all the rotten luck. Daphne’s ex-boyfriend had blood pouring everywhere. He’d press charges for certain.

  Melanie tried to hand Tigger’s father a wad of napkins from the picnic basket, but Tristen blocked her,
grabbing them and tossing them at the man, who tried to snag the fluttering objects, one hand to his gushing nose.

  They’d been having a picnic with Daphne and Tigger by the docks in Port Carling as they planned their next move against Rubicore.

  “What’s going on?” Melanie asked in a calm, even voice.

  “He was taking Tigger,” Tristen said, his left hand clenched around his right fist.

  “Whoa.” Dot, who had gone to grab ice cream, came to a sudden halt as she took in the scene, the cones in their cardboard holder tipping precariously.

  “He was taking Tigger,” Tristen repeated, jaw clenched.

  “I was introducing myself!” the man shouted, his own hands clamped over his nose, which made his voice sound nasal. “I’m her father!”

  “What?” Tristen’s eyes were fire and ice. “Why were you trying to lure her away? Answer that!”

  “We were going to play Frisbee.”

  Daphne was strangely quiet, but her hands trembled as she held her daughter close.

  “You don’t lure a girl away from her mother.” Tristen’s face was red, the vein in his forehead bulging. Judging from how fast it was pulsing, he was in danger of a heart attack.

  Melanie placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping to settle him before he could attack the man again.

  “A father has rights.” Mistral’s nose was still flowing, the napkins so red it made her head spin.

  “From what I’ve heard, you don’t,” Tristen snapped. “You’re lucky I didn’t knee you in the sack and push your deadbeat ass into the lake.”

  “I, um, I said he could come,” Daphne said meekly, idly swiping Tigger’s tears away with a thumb. “I’m sorry.” She moved around Tristen, who staggered in surprise, while Melanie gaped at her sister.

  “You what?” Melanie asked.

  “He was supposed to be here before everyone else, so I could introduce him.”

  “But he’s…he’s the enemy,” Melanie sputtered. What was her sister thinking, inviting Mistral Johnson, who was not only one of the owning partners of Rubicore, but was trying to steal her daughter away? She’d definitely lost her marbles.

  “He’s not the enemy,” Daphne said hotly. “You’re taking things too far, saying that, Melanie.”