A car door shook her out of her thoughts and she looked outside to see a Land Rover. Tristan got out of the backseat and said something to the driver, then shut the door. Abby got her purse and keys and walked outside just as he got to the steps. His eyes took her in, from head to toe and she thought that she heard him mutter God help me under his breath, before he smiled and held out his hand.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She put her hand in his then looked toward the Land Rover. “Why do you have a driver?”
“I had a conference call, so one of my security guys drove. I don’t take the risk of talking on the phone and driving.”
“Oh.” She respected Tristan for being responsible. He opened the door and kissed her lightly on the cheek, his breath leaving a trail to her ear before he pulled back. Abby looked up and saw his heated expression. She wanted him with a ferocity that surprised her and judging by the look on his face, Tristan felt the same. He walked around to his side and made quick introductions. The driver’s name was Jack, he worked security for Tristan and would be tagging along tonight.
“So,” Tristan asked as he turned toward her, “do women in their seventh month still have cravings, or is that a beginning of pregnancy phenomenon?”
“I still have them.” As if to prove the point, her stomach growled and Tristan looked down with a frown.
“You’re hungry?”
“Tristan, I’m always hungry. At least now, anyway.” His frown grew. “I was sick a lot my first five months. It was only around my sixth month that my appetite increased. I seem to be making up for the lost time.”
“What are you craving?”
“A big, thick, juicy, rare steak,” Abby held out her hands to emphasize the word big, “but that will have to wait until after the birth, I don’t want to risk eating undercooked meat.”
“Duly noted.” Tristan drummed his fingers on his knee and stopped suddenly. “Would you like a burger?”
“Ooh, I would love a burger. But none of these little premade patty places. I’m talking about a big, thick burger, chargrilled, oozing with cheese and so many toppings, I’ll need a bib to eat it.”
“I think I’ll have one of those as well.” Tristan leaned forward and said something to Jack, who nodded and clicked the turn signal. He gave Abby a smile. “I know just the place.”
~
Most of the tables in this restaurant were taken, and Tristan wasn’t able to arrange private seating tonight. He looked around the room and noticed the lighting was more functional and less subdued than he would have liked for Abby. But she didn’t notice the light, the linen tablecloths, the modern art decor or the fact that the coaching staff for the Atlanta Falcons was seated two tables away. No, she was too busy enjoying her food and that made the lack of privacy bearable.
“Oh. My. God. That was the best food I have ever eaten in my life.”
Tristan’s eyes twinkled, his smile exultant. “Good, huh?”
“Oh yes.” Abby wiped her mouth and sighed, then got her mirror out of her purse and checked her face.
“What,” Tristan asked with amusement, “did you do that for?”
“Do you remember that comment I made in the car about wanting a burger I needed a bib to eat?”
“Yes.”
“It was a little messy. Just covering all my bases.”
Tristan cocked his head to the side and leaned over. “You missed a spot.” He kissed her on the corner of her mouth then pulled back with a smile. “Mmm.”
Abby’s breath hitched and her eyes widened. She licked her lips and Tristan felt like punching the air in victory. If Abby felt the public display of affection was too much, she would have said so by now. Someone dropped a plate off to the side. She looked in that direction, and tensed.
“Abby, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Tristan turned to see what she was looking at, and inwardly cursed. Son of a bitch! Why here? Why now?
Tristan had to pretend he didn’t know the woman. “Who is she?”
“David’s secretary. The woman he cheated on me with.”
Tristan glanced around quickly, wondering if he would get a Hail Mary pass from the angel. No such luck. Nor did the ground seem willing to swallow him whole at the moment either.
God, why did she have to be here?
Tristan could have gone the rest of his life without seeing her again. Her name was Marianne, and she’d been David’s secretary for two years. Just prior to his death, David had suspected her of having inappropriate feelings. Her skirts progressively got shorter, her comments in private more sexual. The day he died, David returned from lunch in a foul mood, his disappointment over not being able to get his wife pregnant growing, when he found Marianne bending over his desk, exposing her garter. The office soon emptied, everyone leaving for the holiday, and David couldn’t face going home, not when he knew his wife would be disappointed. But Marianne stayed and...
Tristan refused to think about what happened next. He scowled as he saw Marianne cast her judgmental gaze on Abby. Tristan refused to let this carry on. He took Abby’s hand in his own and stood.
“Let’s go.”
Abby nodded. “Good idea.”
Tristan led Abby past Marianne, who remained firmly in place.
To Abby’s credit, she carried herself with grace and dignity past the woman, until Marianne muttered, “the mourning period didn’t last very long.” Abby paused and Tristan tugged.
“It’s not worth it. You know the truth.”
“Yes,” Abby whispered, “but what if she has said something like that to other people?”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re the victim, and she knows it.”
Abby nodded and walked off, while Tristan looked over his shoulder. Marianne sat down next to Joe Price, one of the partners at David’s firm. Joe placed his arm on Marianne’s chair and Tristan had a clear view of Marianne’s hand resting inappropriately on Joe’s thigh. He knew then what he would do...eventually. Right now, Abby’s fingers were clammy and tense in his hand. He needed to get her away from this.
~
Abby was quiet and kept her eyes glued to the window. Tristan held her hand which was a good thing, considering how badly he wanted to hit something. David died having failed Abby horribly. Now Tristan would die a thousand times over before he let that happen again. Abby turned her head toward him.
“Where are we going?” Her voice was soft, as if close to breaking.
“My house.”
She frowned. “But why?”
Because I can’t let you go tonight. I want to hold you and take all the pain away.
“I don’t want you alone right now. I thought, even if it’s only for a little while, you could think without all the reminders.”
Abby nodded. “Thank you.”
The irony wasn’t lost on Tristan. Abby had thanked him for giving her relief from a situation that he’d caused. Okay, so technically David had caused it but technicalities didn’t make a damn bit of difference when Abby was hurting.
Tristan murmured, “You’re welcome,” and squeezed her hand, hoping and praying they would be at his house soon.
~
The house was huge. Three, maybe four of Abby’s house could fit inside Tristan’s. She never was impressed by pretense and, with everything weighing on her mind, she wasn’t about to start now. Jack pulled into the circle drive in front and stopped at the entrance. Tristan took her hand as she got out and a servant waited to welcome them inside. Tristan made introductions and the man asked if Abby would like something to drink. She politely declined and stayed still in the middle of the cavernous foyer. Tristan regarded her with worry and Abby knew that she looked as shaken as she felt.
“Let’s go in here. I want you to be comfortable.” Tristan led them into an informal parlor and Abby followed. He sat down beside her, keeping her hand within his, like he needed to feel her skin.
Abby exhaled and wished
she could pour water on Marianne and make her melt. It certainly worked for other wicked witches.
“I’m sorry I picked that place.”
She looked up, her eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t be. That wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“You wouldn’t have been subjected to that...woman if I’d chosen another restaurant.”
“Maybe not tonight, Tristan, but it would have happened eventually. It may have happened after the baby was born and she could’ve said that in front of my son.”
“Regardless of when she said it, Abby, she was wrong.”
“I know. Logically, I know she’s wrong and opinions on timing are subjective but...to stand there in judgment of me, when she slept with my husband. How dare she?”
“She had no right.”
Abby stood, her hands flexing. “No, she didn’t. But she’s only saying what other people are thinking.” Abby walked over to a vase, lightly running her fingers over the rose petals. “I never told anyone about finding David with her the day he died. I kept his secret and protected him. But if anyone we knew sees me with you, they are going to think I’m not honoring David’s memory.”
He shook his head. “Abby, that’s—”
“Unfortunate, but reality nonetheless.” She faced Tristan and sighed. “Whether or not it’s actually true, I’ll be tried and convicted in the court of public opinion. Which, in this part of the country, is ruled by southern propriety. The grieving widow does not automatically go and find someone else.”
He clutched his fingers together and inhaled deeply, like the whole situation troubled him as much as her. “That’s not what you’ve done.”
“It isn’t? It’s only been a little over six months and I’m seeing you. My own mother brought up the very same thing when I told her about you.” Abby shook her head and laughed bitterly. “Grief. What is the proper mourning period? Did the people who made up these arbitrary rules take into account extenuating circumstances, like my husband screwing another woman the day I found out I was pregnant? Within an hour, my dreams came true and my expectations fell apart. David and I should’ve had a house full of children, grown old together, played with our grandchildren on our front porch. In here,” Abby pointed to her head, “that’s the future I saw. A couple so deeply in love that they never looked at another, held each other’s hands through the hard times and were grateful for all the good. But that afternoon...” Abby paused, her voice lowering when she spoke. “And now, half a year later, I’m with another man. I condemned David for that very thing.”
“Abby, you’re letting her upset you, and that’s just what that spiteful woman wanted to do.”
“I know.” Her shoulders drooped. “It still doesn’t change the circumstances.”
“Abby.” Tristan stepped forward. “Things have changed so very much. What would have been unacceptable during our parents’ time isn’t frowned on so much now.”
Abby nodded but didn’t look at Tristan.
He put his hand on her shoulder and shuddered. “Do you want me to leave you alone? Would that make things easier for you?”
~
Abby’s head jerked up and she looked at him with shock.
“No, it wouldn’t make things easier for me!” Abby’s lips started quivering and tears streaked down her cheeks. She held out her arms. “I’m just...I...could you just hold me? It’s been so long since anyone has held me. Please.”
Tristan wrapped her in his arms and held her as she cried. When her tears became gut-wrenching sobs, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the couch. She held onto him as her body shook, so upset that she may not have noticed Tristan’s tears joining hers. He rocked her and rubbed her back, wanting to take all of this away from her, dying a little bit as he felt her emotional breakdown. A servant came to the doorway and Tristan waved them off. No one needed to witness this.
She eventually calmed and raised her head. “God, I’ve ruined another one of your shirts.”
Tristan smiled. “I should show you my closet. I could stand to lose a few shirts.”
Her expression softened, and Abby laid her head back on his shoulder. She took a deep breath. “When I opened the door to his office that day, David was horrified. But she actually smiled. Like she wanted me to catch them.” Tristan cringed, thinking about that day and remembering the horror, running after Abby and not looking back at Marianne once. “Nobody knew I was stopping by though.”
Tristan was trying his best to maintain control but, God, it was so hard. To hear Abby tell her version of what happened made his chest ache.
“That wretched woman is going to do things like that because that is the kind of person she is. I know her type. She’s probably already got her sights set on another man.” She did, and Tristan was going to put a stop to it as soon as he possibly could. “But you’ve made things better, and I don’t want you to leave me alone, or however it was that you phrased that ridiculous question. “
“I will always be here for you.”
She smiled and ran her finger along his cheek. “Thank you for that.” She took another deep breath. “Thank you for making me feel normal, instead of like the poor widow.”
He turned her, so he could watch her as they talked. “You are not a poor anything, Abby. You are an amazing woman with the strength of ten men.”
She looked surprised. “I’m not.”
“Yes,” Tristan emphasized, “you are. How long did you take off work after your husband died?”
“Two weeks.”
He nodded. “How long before you joined the group?”
“Three weeks,” she paused, “to the day.”
“Have you missed a meeting?”
She held up her pointy finger. “One. I had to get IV fluids early in the pregnancy.”
“I can tell the sadness is there, Abby. But you aren’t letting it control you. That is more strength than many would have in the same situation.”
She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I’m not a victim.”
Frowning, Tristan shook his head. “I never said you were.”
“Yes, you did. You said that I was the victim and Marianne knew it.”
Tristan winced. “Then I was wrong. You are a survivor, not a victim.”
She exhaled and smiled. “Thank you.”
Tristan held her shoulders and pulled her close. He kissed the top of her head, inhaling her sweet scent. Abby always smelled like flowers. David had never known what kind, but Tristan’s mother loved flowers, so he knew.
Gardenia.
“I’m going to have my gardener plant a hundred gardenia bushes tomorrow.”
Her eyes widened and she tilted her head to the side. “Why?”
“They smell like you.”
Abby wrapped her arms around Tristan, hugging him close. She held on to him as if she would never let go.
“Stay with me tonight.” The whispered plea crossed Tristan’s lips before he could stop it. Abby looked up, surprise on her face. “My intentions are honorable. I don’t think you should be alone tonight.”
Abby smiled. “Probably not.”
“Good.” Tristan sighed. “I don’t want to be alone either.”
~
Tristan put Abby in the room next to his and, when they both realized she had nothing to sleep in, he gave her a pair of his running shorts and a t-shirt. He kissed her goodnight and left the room quickly, so he could keep his word. He changed out of his clothes quickly and flopped down in bed, hoping for sleep but knowing damned well it would elude him tonight.
Which is how Tristan ended up downstairs, barefoot, shirtless and in pajama pants, looking out over his back lawn as the first traces of color appeared in the sky. Every time he closed his eyes, Tristan imagined himself wrapped around Abby’s body. Her presence surrounded him, even from the next room. Knowing she was in there, in his clothes, made the separation even worse.
It took the combined restraint of the man he used to be and the man he was now to
keep Tristan from going into that bedroom and climbing into bed with her.
“That is beautiful.”
Tristan turned in surprise; he hadn’t heard her approach. Abby stopped next to him and leaned into his side, watching the sky light up with wide-eyed amazement.
“It is, indeed.”
“Do you see the sunrise every morning?”
“I’m usually checking on the overseas markets by this time, so I see it most mornings.”
“Were you checking the markets this morning?”
He shrugged negligently. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Abby stiffened. “Because of me?”
“Yes, actually. It was hard to stay away when you were so close.”
“Then why did you?”
“You went through so much yesterday, Abby. I didn’t want to add to that by going back on a promise.”
She sighed. “Tristan, I didn’t sleep. You didn’t sleep.” Abby brushed his fingers with hers. “We have a little while before your office opens so if you would like to lie down with me for a bit, I think we can both act like adults.”
“Adults do things I promised I wouldn’t do, Abby.” And you are vulnerable.
Abby shrugged. “It’s up to you.”
She turned and went upstairs, just as silently as she’d come down.
The minx, Tristan thought, shaking his head.
Abby had thrown down the gauntlet, and Tristan picked it up. No matter what body he was in, he never turned down a challenge. And lying beside his wife without making love to her was certainly going to be a challenge.
~
Abby was on the bed getting comfortable when she saw Tristan in the doorway.
“Hi.”
He strode forward with a smirk. “Hi, yourself.” The bed dipped under his weight and Abby bit back a smile. She wasn’t sure he would come. She’d hoped, though. “Are you positive about this?”
“It’s a nap, Tristan. Of course.”
Nodding, he settled in, with his head turned so he could see her. He wasn’t smiling, which made her nervous.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?”
Tristan shook his head, his eyebrows narrowed. “No. Never think that. I love...being here.”
Tristan's Redemption Page 7