Tristan on a Harley (Louisiana Knights Book 3)

by Jennifer Blake

  The wide-open French doors and thrown back shutters of a corner restaurant beckoned. They stepped inside where it was dim and cool, and the lazily turning ceiling fans stirred the aromas of frying onions, browning flour, chopped garlic and fresh-baked bread. They ordered typical French Quarter fare of gumbo and French bread served with chilled white wine, then topped it with bread pudding soaked in a buttery rum sauce.

  Replete and strangely happy, they strolled on, winding up on Royal Street. Zeni noticed a pawn shop some distance ahead of them. That seemed most likely to be Trey’s destination.

  As they passed an antique shop, he glanced at the black and gold lettering on the window. “Let’s look in here a minute,” he said with an agreeably casual air. Without waiting for an answer, he stepped inside and held the door for her.

  Zeni didn’t mind. Anything worked for her as an excuse to delay choosing a ring. If it also gave her the chance to pretend a short while longer that she really was his fiancée, what was the harm?

  The store seemed familiar. She realized after an instant that she had stood outside with her nose pressed against the glass when she was eleven or twelve. For a few moments of childhood yearning, she had gazed at all the treasures that once belonged to people who had extended families to know and love, and who had lived with and enjoyed all the beautiful and permanent furnishings for untold generations. Yet they were gone and their belongings discarded, becoming no more than the detritus of past lives.

  Something of that same feeling remained inside her, though her thoughts went to the stored furnishings from Trey’s granddad’s house. It must be comforting to live with those things when they held your family’s memories. Yes, and when the memories themselves had special meaning, as they did to Trey.

  Antique stores always had a certain smell, a combination of old wood, dust, furniture polish and countless hours, countless joys and tragedies. This one had something extra; the scent of the huge gray Persian that sat in the window. It seemed to belong in this Aladdin’s cave of shimmering crystal chandeliers, polished mirrors, shining woods and gilded decorations.

  A long glass counter with rosewood trim, a relic of some dry goods store from the distant past, sat to one side. A wizened lady of uncertain age stood behind it. She was elegant in black wool, cream silk and 18-karat gold jewelry. Her henna-tinted hair was knotted on top of her head and held by a gold pin, and she had a warm twinkle in her eyes.

  “Welcome mademoiselle, monsieur, may I be of service?”

  Zeni began to shake her head, but Trey jumped in ahead of her. “Do you have any Victorian era betrothal rings? Something in rubies and diamonds would be great.”

  “But of course as that was a favored combination. The hands of the ladies of that time were small, but that should not be a problem.” The lady proprietor glanced at Zeni’s slender fingers before she smiled and reached beneath her counter to pull out a tray of rings.

  Zeni was distracted for a moment by the other vintage jewelry in the display case, marvelous cameos and bead necklaces of coral and jet; carved amethyst brooches and lockets set with seed pearls; watch chains with seals and mourning jewelry made of human hair. It was fascinating, far more so than the modern offerings available at the mall jewelry store.

  “Zeni?”

  She looked up to see Trey watching her, one hand on the display case beside the tray of rings and the other on his hip.

  “Oh, sorry.”

  The lady behind the counter looked at Zeni again, and then studied the rings in front of her for a second. She picked up one and started to offer it, but Trey reached over and tapped a different one with slightly larger stones.

  “Oh, yes, an excellent choice,” she said, taking that one from its bed and holding it to the light. “The gold used is 18-karat, and the ruby is very fine, nicely clear, and the diamonds superior grade. Compared to similar modern versions, it’s a truly great value at only—”

  She stopped abruptly as Trey snapped a warning look in her direction. Continuing smoothly in her gentle, cultured tones, she covered the near gaffe by segueing into historical detail.

  “Are you aware the Victorians considered the ruby as the gem of the heart? To their minds it stood for courage and love, particularly undying, passionate love. According to legend, rubies are hardened by fire, which gives them the power to kindle desire, you perceive.”

  Zeni looked up to meet the sympathy and understanding in the woman’s fine gaze. “Yes, I see,” she murmured, almost to herself. She saw that the woman suspected a passionate relationship between her and Trey.

  “A floral setting such as this one,” the shop owner went on, “where the ruby is surrounded by diamonds like white petals around a red center, symbolized the heart of the home. That is to say, the wife who is always protected by the diamond-hard strength of the husband. It was all foolishness of course, but they were highly sentimental at the time.” She paused. “I sometimes think they may have cared more for each other simply because there were fewer distractions—no TV, no video games, no internet or email—so they had more time to care.”

  Trey reached for the ring, and then took Zeni’s hand in his. With a deft move, he slipped it onto her ring finger.

  It felt so smooth and well-balanced. The fit was perfect, as if made for her. Zeni held it up to the light from the window and watched the shifting rich, burgundy-red gleams within the stone. It did look like a heart, one that was well and truly protected.

  It was perfection in every way, and she was unbearably moved that Trey had chosen it for her, that he felt it was suitable for her. She would not be able to keep it, but she could wear it for a short while. There was pain in the knowledge that it meant nothing, could never mean anything except a convenient arrangement. And yet she felt surrounded by a force-field of protection, something she could not have imagined and never explain.

  Tears crowded her throat, pressing upward behind her nose and into her eyes. She blinked but they would not go away.

  Trey leaned to look into her face, his gaze searching. A faint smile curved his mouth and the gray of his eyes turned dark. Glancing up at the woman behind the counter he spoke in quiet satisfaction.

  “We’ll take it.”

  Chapter 15

  Trey was content. He had accomplished what he set out to do with this trip to New Orleans; he’d added an extra layer of protection for Zeni by buying her an engagement ring. He’d also found one he thought she might actually wear, which was a near miracle.

  He’d been sure there for a while that he was going to come up short. Nothing had suited her. Nothing had really suited him, either. Yet both of them had fallen for the ruby and diamond ring.

  It said something to him, though that might be because the woman in the shop had been a great sales lady. But it was mainly a perfect match for Zeni’s personality; beautiful but just a little offbeat.

  She had not taken it off since he put it on her finger. That was definitely in its favor and in his for coming up with the idea. Yeah, even if what she’d said about pawn shops had triggered it.

  A pawn shop, for heaven’s sake, as if he would be that cheap where she was concerned.

  Okay, antique shops dealt in people’s discards as well. There was a difference in his mind, however, between a ring traded in for money, and one that had likely been treasured as long as the wearer had a use for it.

  He let his eyes rest on Zeni a moment where she walked beside him. Each time she looked down at the ring she smiled. For some reason that made him feel good inside.

  To stay in the Quarter for the rest of the afternoon, have a nice dinner somewhere and then spend the night in a hotel, seemed like a fine idea. He’d love to extend their escape, to hold Zeni through the night—maybe see her wearing nothing except the ring.

  He hesitated to mention it. The last thing he wanted was for Zeni to think he expected her to hop into his bed in return for his outlay today. Misplaced gratitude had no more purpose between them than misplaced obligation. He w
anted her willing and eager or not at all.

  “You about ready to head for home?” The question was as natural as he could make it while certain parts of his body objected, painfully, to every word.

  “If you are.”

  “Not really, but I guess we’re done.”

  “I should get back and relieve Gloria,” she said in what had the sound of reluctant agreement.

  That much was true. Gloria had been on duty since the early hours of the morning. To expect her to her close the place down for the night was too much.

  “Then Midnight has been alone all day.”

  “The truck is this way then,” he said, and crossed the street to head back toward Chartres.

  Zeni was silent as they walked. He glanced at her once or twice, but she seemed to be watching the sidewalk in front of her in deep thought, rather than with her head up, taking in familiar surroundings as she had before. Was she disappointed that they were not staying? He’d like to think so, but it didn’t quite feel right.

  No, she had something on her mind, maybe the same thing she had almost mentioned earlier. He ran through every possibility he could think of, and there was only one she might not feel free to talk over with him. That one, he realized with grim recognition, was Derek Peabody.

  It was possible she was upset with him for threatening the man. If so, it couldn’t be helped; he wasn’t about to apologize. On the other hand, there seemed no point in making things worse by bringing it out in the open.

  “You okay?” he asked. “I’m not walking too fast for you?”

  She looked straight ahead. “No I’m fine.”

  She wasn’t. Trey knew that in part because of her low energy level, but also because she’d said nothing remotely annoying to him since they started out. There wasn’t a lot he could do about it until she decided to open up about whatever was troubling her. She would eventually, he was sure; she had to if things were ever going to be right between them.

  They didn’t speak again until they reached the truck and he helped her inside then moved around to the driver seat. He put the key in the ignition, but paused to look at her, his gaze moving over the shape of her there beside him, her face, before settling on the rich brown of her eyes. “You know I would never ask for more than you’re ready to give, don’t you, Zeni, never take advantage, never take anything for granted?”

  “Yes, I know that.” Her smile was warm and real, and yet so forlorn that it almost broke his heart.

  “You will never guess what happened,” Gloria said, her eyes shining like black glass. “I’m going to be in the dream scene with you in the movie!”

  Zeni paused in the act of tying her apron strings, getting ready to take over the coffee shop from Gloria. “That’s great, I’m really proud for you. But I thought you weren’t interested.”

  “That was before I knew it was a paying gig,” her waitress friend answered with a saucy grin.

  “So how did it happen?”

  “Derek Peabody himself came in while you were gone. He was looking for you—well, besides looking for lunch. Things were a little slow, and he started talking to me since you weren’t available. He said something about how Mr. Trey had quit, wasn’t going to be in it, and he needed another actor, someone who could dress things up a mite. He also said you’d mentioned how you might be able to find somebody for him. I figured, hey, why not me?”

  “Good job,” Zeni said in warm approval.

  “You think it will be okay? I mean, who’s going to mind the store, or at least cook and pass out food here and at the fairgrounds, if you and I are both busy with the movie?”

  “Trey can probably handle it as long as I get up early to do the baking. But—you don’t mind the role?” Zeni finished donning her apron and took onions from the bin to peel for the dinner setup.

  “Lord, no. I can sit around and do nothing with the best of them. And they can call me anything they want as long as they give me a check afterward. I see a semester’s tuition from this deal.”

  Zeni had to smile at that practical attitude. “I have to say, I’ll be more than happy to have someone else around.”

  With any luck, the whole thing would be over in a day or two. Maybe then things could get back to normal.

  Maybe she wouldn’t have to have that talk with Trey, after all.

  Maybe this whole engagement business would fade away.

  Maybe she’d be happy about that, too. Eventually.

  “I’ll just bet you will,” Gloria said on a laugh.

  Zeni gave her a quick look, half afraid she had spoken out loud. “What do you mean?”

  “I got this weird idea that the better I was at looking the other way around the movie set, the bigger my paycheck might be.”

  “You don’t mean it?”

  “Oh, but I do, girlfriend. Derek the Man has got some serious hots for you.”

  “He’s just not used to being told no.” Zeni stabbed the knife she held into a helpless onion and began to trim the root end so the pungent aroma rose around her. “And that’s too bad, because the feeling is not mutual.”

  “Ain’t that the way it goes?” Gloria wagged her head slowly back and forth. “You could maybe be a major player, half of one of those famous and fabulously wealthy Hollywood couples, except here you are lovesick for Mr. Trey.”

  “Gloria!”

  “It’s the truth isn’t it? Though I can’t for the life of me see a problem. You’re nearly there, so make it all legal and church-like then go riding into the sunset on his Harley.”

  Zeni refused to look at Gloria while she put the big onion into the slicer and turned it into onion rings. “It isn’t that easy.”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “It just isn’t, okay? I’m not his kind, and never have been. I don’t really belong and never will.”

  Gloria put a hand on one hip bone. “I don’t think the boss man knows that.”

  “Doesn’t matter, it’s still the truth.” Zeni went on at once in an attempt to change the subject. “So are you excited about the part? Do you have an appointment to see about a costume? And what did you think of Derek, now that you’ve talked to him up close and personal? Are you joining his fan club?”

  “Who? Me? The man is seriously fond of himself, honey. But yeah, I’m kind of excited. That snooty assistant of his is supposed to help me with a bed sheet or some such thing to use as a costume. But I seriously think you need to get yourself one of those chastity belts to wear while you do this scene with our Derek. No telling what he might try. Not much I’d put past him, not much at all.”

  Zeni hardly knew whether she wanted to laugh or cry, though she realized a second later it was the onion that was causing the tears. With a watery chuckle, she reached for a paper towel to dry her eyes.

  Gloria screamed, a high-pitched sound of amazement, and reached to grab Zeni’s hand. She turned the ring she wore to the florescent light above the sink. “You sly little devil you! Is this what I think it is?”

  “Depends on what you think it is.” Zeni wriggled her fingers, trying to release them.

  “Looks like an engagement ring to me. Don’t tell me it’s just a birthday present or something.”

  Zeni glanced at the ruby and diamonds shining on her hand, and couldn’t help smiling. “It could be, couldn’t it?”

  “Nope. No way. Looks too much like something Mr. Trey would buy for you. I am that relieved, since I thought the two of you were a tad casual about the whole thing the other day. So when is the wedding, and do I get to be a bridesmaid—and maybe plan a knockout bachelorette party?” Dropping Zeni’s hand, she began to do a fast happy dance in the middle of the kitchen.

  “Don’t get too excited,” Zeni said after a second of watching in amusement. “It’s just a different version of that chastity belt you mentioned.”

  Gloria stopped. “What are you saying? Mr. Trey asked you to marry him right here where we’re standing. I heard him with my own ears.”

 
; She’d said too much. It was unintentional, but couldn’t be helped. Besides, Gloria was too good a friend and coworker, too close to both her and Trey not to know the truth. Zeni told her as simply as possible. “So you see,” she ended, “the ring is real enough. It just doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Aw, now, I’m totally bummed. It’s too damned bad—so bad I’d like to smack Derek myself. But I still think Mr. Trey likes you a lot.”

  “I like him too,” Zeni said quietly.

  Gloria put both hands on her hips this time. “Well then?”

  “Well, nothing. And I think I need to take better care of this ring.” Removing the priceless antique, she slid it into her pocket while summoning a smile. “Onion juice and tears probably aren’t doing it any good. Or me, either, if it comes to that.”

  That conversation with Gloria came back to Zeni often over the next couple of days. It would be beyond wonderful if she could believe Gloria was right, and Trey felt something for her.

  She couldn’t quite accept it. In her world to date, things had never been quite that easy.

  A single rehearsal was called for the dream sequence. It took place while Derek was in Los Angeles at some meeting of the movie’s backers. The relief of that was stupendous, even if his assistant, Bettina, was more critical of her and Gloria’s performances than the actor might’ve been. She was also more forthcoming about camera angles, bits of business, and particularly the filming schedule for this scene, which she said would begin on the day after the ring tournament.