It was the gentlemanly thing to do, but he didn’t want to chance it. His emotions were too strong, she was too tempting, and she most likely still had somewhat of a buzz going on.
Tapping the steering wheel while he waited, he watched as she paused in front of the door and placed both hands on top of her head. After a moment, she drew her phone out of her back pocket. She came down the steps and rounded the hood to his side of the truck.
Lowering his window, he asked, “Is everything alright?”
“Not really.”
“You weren’t broken into, were you?”
“The opposite. I can’t get in. I left my purse back at the reunion. Mindy texted to say she brought it over to my parents. I’m locked out.”
Damn. That was his fault. She’d said she needed to get it before leaving. Too distraught over Jerry and trying to contain his newfound feelings for her, he left without grabbing it.
“Do your neighbors have a key?”
She shook her head. “No. Funny thing is Jerry doesn’t believe in locking his doors. It drives me crazy. Cindy must have locked up when she left to follow the ambulance.”
“Think he has a key on him at the hospital?” It was a stupid question, but he had to ask.
“I’m the only one with a key. I’ve never even had to use it.”
Tristan shut off the engine and opened his door. “I’ll check the back door. Maybe a window was left open.”
There wasn’t much of a moon, so he used the flashlight on his phone to guide his way as he circled the house. They tried all the doors and windows with no luck.
“Any of the upstairs windows open, you think? Is there a ladder in the barn?”
“Yes to the ladder, no to the windows. We don’t go up there. No need. To save on energy, we keep it sealed off. I’ve only ventured up a few times to check for drafts in the winter.”
“Okay.” Tristan sighed and trekked back to his van. “I can bring you to a friend’s house.”
Jenna took out her phone and looked at the screen. “It’s one in the morning. I’m sure someone will answer their cell, though.”
“Why don’t you come home with me?”
Her head shot up, her eyes going wide. “I don’t know.”
“I won’t ... do anything. A friend helping out a friend. We’ll get up early, and I’ll bring you back to the hospital. Or to Bangor to get your keys and your car. Whatever you want.”
“I don’t want to put you out.”
“Seriously. It’s no problem at all.” He had an evening wedding to cater, but as long as he was back before noon, he could make it happen. He’d have to call in his crew a little early.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Hop in.” He held the door open and couldn’t help it when his gaze zeroed in on her denim-clad butt as she climbed into the van.
When they were on the road again, Jenna broke the silence. “I’m sure you have a lot of work to do tonight to clean up after the party.”
“Some. Not a lot.” That was mostly true. Using disposable pans had made clean up a breeze. Since the reunion didn’t have a kitchen, he’d done all the prep ahead of time and just had the storage containers to clean out. And the smoker. That would take some time, but there was no rush to get it done tonight.
“I can help.”
“You’re exhausted and will be lucky to get a few hours’ sleep. I don’t have anything to do until tomorrow afternoon. Don’t worry about it.”
He’d send some texts out to his staff as soon as she fell asleep and would then bring in the dishes to wash. Cleaning up at his prep studio was a lot easier than using his tiny apartment kitchen, but he didn’t want to leave Jenna alone.
Twenty minutes later, they were on the front stoop of his rental. “It’s not much.”
“I don’t need much. Just a place to crash for a few hours.”
He unlocked the door and gestured for her to go in first. Flipping on the lights, he saw the space from her eyes. A small but open living room, kitchen, dining area. The couch was your average navy piece of furniture stationed in front of a television he rarely watched.
The dining space held a four-person round table and matching chairs which came with the rental. The kitchen would have been efficient enough for a couple who liked to cook. However, not quite enough for someone of his culinary tastes.
At least the appliances were fairly new and functioned well. The four-burner gas stove and oven were standard grade and cooked evenly, which was crucial.
“The bathroom is to the left.” He stepped in front of her and flipped the switch, thankful he was a clean bachelor. The toilet seat was down, and no gobs of toothpaste were in the sink. He wasn’t a slob, but he wasn’t a neat freak either. Only in the kitchen.
“The bedroom is back here.” Again, he flipped the light switch on, following her into the room.
His standard queen-sized bed took up most of the space. The dark brown and white comforter was pulled up to the pillows. He’d always been a half-ass bed maker. He saw no point in it when you were going to mess up the bed later on in the night.
Images of him messing up the comforter with Jenna flooded his brain.
Nope. Don’t even.
Clearing his throat, he backed out of the room, opening the door to a linen closet. “You can have the bed. I’ll take the couch.”
“I can’t let you do that.” She tugged the sheets from his hands. “I’m more than happy to sleep on the couch.”
“And I can’t let you do that.”
“Tristan.” He pretended hearing his name roll off her tongue didn’t affect him. “You’ve done so much for me tonight. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch. Seriously.”
“There’s no way I can sleep in there knowing you’re tossing and turning on the couch.” He took the sheets back from her, hoping she couldn’t read his mind. It wasn’t the fact that she’d be on the couch and him on the bed that would bother him. It was her being in his house that would have him up all night.
It didn’t matter where she slept. Already her cucumber melon scent added a touch of ... Jenna to his place.
“I insist.” The stubborn woman pushed past him and dropped to the couch. “You can keep the sheets. I’m too exhausted to need them.”
“Jenna.” Tristan joined her and set the sheets to the side. “You’ve had an emotional night. You’re getting bags under your eyes. Go get a good night’s sleep.”
“Bags?” She touched her face with a frown.
Great. Way to impress the lady with insults.
“I could always tell when you were tired or stressed.” Cursing himself for being a fool, he stroked the soft skin under her eye with the pad of his index finger. “You’ll be fresh and beautiful in the morning. As always.”
“Tristan.” Her eyes, heavy with sleep, closed and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.
Afraid to move, he stayed still until her breathing slowed and a slight snore escaped her lips. Moving as slowly and carefully as he could, he laid back, bringing Jenna with him. There wasn’t much space on the couch with the two of them stretched out, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Used to staying up until the wee hours of the morning, Tristan laid awake for hours with Jenna’s head resting on his chest, her body entangled with his.
Sometime into the night, before the sun rose, he drifted off to the most restful sleep he’d had in eight years.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jenna woke with a startle. A hot body had her cocooned in even hotter arms. Hot in every definition of the word.
Temperature hot. She was sweating from the heat radiating between them.
Popular hot. She couldn’t help but overhear all the comments about chef Tristan Ketch and the name he’d made for himself over the years.
Sexy hot. Yeah, she overheard a lot of sexy talk as well. It was true. Tristan had grown from a cute boy to a sexy, hot as hell man. His loose shirts and apron covered what she knew to b
e a solid body underneath.
And now she had first-hand knowledge of just how hard and solid it was. Gone was the lean boy from their teens and early twenties, replaced by ... yum. Not over-the-top ripped muscles like she saw on the cover of some of her favorite romance novels in Books by the Ocean, but a perfect blend of muscle and leanness. If that even made sense.
Somehow they’d both fallen asleep on the couch. The sun shone through his open windows, warming her already heated body. She was wedged between the back of the sofa and Tristan’s body.
Her leg shamelessly draped over his, her head on his chest, and her arm draped over his stomach. Should she move? Maybe if she made a giant leap off him, he wouldn’t know she’d draped herself over him during the night.
“You awake?”
Maybe not. “Uh huh.”
Tristan rolled his shoulders and rubbed his hand up and down her back. She didn’t want him to know how nice it felt and laid stiff as a board on him.
“Sorry.” He moved his hand and wiggled his way out from under her, leaving her face planted into the cushions he just vacated.
She resisted the urge to inhale too deeply, to savor his distinct smell of soap and herbs.
“I didn’t mean to sleep with you. I mean—”
“I know.” Jenna sat up and ran her hands through her tangled mop of hair. “I’m sorry for crashing so hard. Last I remembered we were arguing over who was going to sleep where.”
“You should have taken the bed.” He winked and padded across the living room to the kitchen. “Hungry?”
“Maybe. Coffee first?” She stood and stretched. When she brought her arms back down, she realized her shirt had ridden up, exposing her stomach. Tristan had noticed too, his gaze glued to her midsection. “Uh, can I use your bathroom?”
Tristan licked his lips and cleared his throat. “Sure. Help yourself to whatever you need.”
She scurried off to the bathroom to hide her embarrassment, her boots clicking on the hardwood.. Hell, she hadn’t even taken off her boots. Or her earrings. She’d collapsed the second her ass hit the couch.
So why had Tristan stayed with her? He could have slept in the comfort of his own bed. She finished her business and washed her hands, lifting her gaze to the mirror. “Gah.”
It was a good thing she wasn’t into makeup. The little mascara she wore smudged under her lids, and her hair was a poofy mess. She splashed water on her face, scrubbing it clean, then worked her fingers through her tangles enough so she could separate her hair into three sections for a braid.
The smell of toast and coffee greeted her when she opened the door.
“I don’t have a lot of food here. I keep most of it at my shop.”
“Shop?”
“Studio. Shop. Kitchen. I’m not sure what to call it. It’s where we work to prep for our events.”
“Oh. I figured you did it here.”
“Not enough space.” He handed her a coffee mug, and she took it with an appreciative sigh.
“Thank you.” Inhaling the aroma of hazelnut, she sipped, the hot liquid bringing instant life to her tired body.
“You still take it with a splash of cream?”
“I do.” So desperate for her first sip, she hadn’t even asked how he had made it.
“Fresh jam on your toast okay? I have two eggs I can scramble as well.”
He needed to stop remembering the way she took her coffee and eggs. It was too intimate. Especially for a morning after.
Not that it was a morning after. They still had their shoes on when they woke up.
Still. The intimate setting did nothing to remind her they were barely acquaintances now.
No. Acquaintances wasn’t the right word. They had far too much history for so insignificant a word. Friends, maybe. Though they’d only begun to speak to each other again.
“I should check in with the hospital.” Anything to avoid staring at Tristan in the kitchen. It had always turned her on, seeing him cook for her.
She found her phone on the floor by the couch and turned it on. Or at least attempted to.
“I think my battery is dead.”
“I have a charger on my bedside table you can use if you want to.”
Jenna eyed the bedroom door and bit at the inside of her cheek. It seemed there was nothing Tristan could do or say that would help ease her rising hormones.
It had been too long since she’d been around a man. That was why. No. Not true. She’d been seeing Carter for quite a few weeks now. Yes, Carter. He would keep her mind off Tristan who made her coffee exactly as she liked, and looked sinfully delicious cooking for her in the kitchen.
She risked the temptation and crossed the living room to his bedroom. Sitting on his bed, she plugged in her phone and waited for it to have enough juice to bring up the home screen.
While she waited, she gave into temptation and looked around his room. It was minimally decorated. His comforter didn’t match his navy pillowcases. He had scoffed at her when they got their first apartment and she bought a bed-in-a-bag on sale at JC Penney’s.
“What’s the purpose of that frilly stuff on the bottom of the mattress?”
“It’s a bed skirt.”
“Our bed doesn’t need to wear a skirt. And neither do you.” He pulled her shorts down her legs and threw her to the bed in a giggling fit. They made love in the middle of the day, christening the new bedding.
“Stop thinking about sex with Tristan,” she scolded herself and continued scanning his room. Spotting something under the comforter, she pulled it back and gasped. Afraid to touch the pink stuffed bear, she held her fist to her mouth in an attempt to stop her trembling. Last night was the first time in eight years that she’d slept without her comfort bear. She’d been so exhausted and mentally wiped that it hadn’t crossed her mind.
She hadn’t crossed her mind. Closing her eyes to keep her tears at bay, she took a few calming breaths before opening her eyes again. She tossed the blanket back over the bear and forced herself not to think about the meaning behind the stuffed animal.
When she woke from the accident, she’d felt the emptiness in her womb. She’d clutched Tristan’s hand and squeezed with as much strength as she could muster. “The baby?” He’d closed his eyes and lowered his forehead to hers and cried.
Later, the nursing staff gave her a weighted bear to hold onto in place of her baby. At first, she was offended and had thrown it across the room. A comfort bear, they’d called it. It was the mother’s instinct and expectation to hold a baby after giving birth. For the women who lost a newborn, they were given the bear to love.
Jenna hadn’t slept a night without her bear before last night. The implications were too much for her to think about right now.
Her phone lit up, signaling missed calls and texts. Welcoming the distraction, she picked it up and scrolled through, replying first to her parents, then to Mindy. There were two from Carter. She contemplated responding, but it didn’t feel right texting another man while sitting on Tristan’s bed.
Not that anything had happened in the bed. At least not between them. With his easy on the eyes smile and exquisite skills in the kitchen, she imagined his bed was always in use.
Eww.
Thinking about him having sex with other women was not the best way to start her day. Or thinking about the symbolic teddy bear he kept in his bed. He must have gotten one for himself sometime after their divorce.
She quietly begged her heart to slow its rapid-fire beat in her chest as she jumped up and booked it out of his bedroom.
Oh. The smell of cinnamon toast and freshly ground coffee beans, however, was something she could get used to.
Only not with Tristan. That ship had sailed.
“Everything okay?”
“Sure. Yeah. Thanks.” She picked up her mug and gulped, the hot liquid burning the back of her throat.
“Any news from the hospital?”
The hospital. She hadn’t even called them. The sight
of Tristan’s bed and thought of him in it had her too flustered to think straight. And then the bear...
“No news is good news, right?”
“I can pour your coffee in a travel mug, and we can hit the road now if you’re ready.” He tore off a sheet of paper towels and wrapped the toast in it. “Here are your eggs. I know you like to eat them when they’re hot.”
He knew too much. Instead of commenting on that, she took the offered plate and scooped up a forkful of scrambled eggs.
“Are you eating?” she asked in between bites. Her stomach had reminded her how little she ate last night at the reunion.
“I’ll have a few bites to eat later when I’m cooking.”
He never liked to cook on a full or empty stomach. She didn’t like that she remembered as much about him as he did her.
“We can go now.” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin and carried her plate to the sink. “Thank you for breakfast. That really hit the spot.”
“Don’t forget your toast.” He handed it to her in exchange for her coffee and poured it into a travel mug. “I wouldn’t want to be blamed for your lack of caffeine fix.”
She bit into her toast as she headed for the door. The walls of his house were closing in on her, and his cheerful morning smile was stirring up something in her belly she didn’t want to be stirred.
They drove to the hospital in silence. Not quite as awkward as the morning after. Still, not completely comfortable either.
Instead of pulling up in front of the main entrance as expected, Tristan parked his van in the lot.
“You don’t have to come inside. You must have a million things to do today.”
“I’m not going to leave you stranded. You’re carless and keyless. We’ll check in on Jerry, then I’ll take you back to Bangor so you can get your stuff.”
“Tristan.” She undid her seatbelt and faced him. “That is really sweet of you, but I can’t ask you to change your schedule around for me. I can call one of my girlfriends. I’m sure one of them can give me a lift.”
“It’s an hour and a half away. Three hours round trip.” She tilted her head at him, waiting for his point. “Your friends have husbands, jobs, busy lives. What if they can’t bring you? I don’t have to be at my kitchen for another few hours. I can call in my sous chefs to start the prep work.”
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