Chapter Twenty-Nine
Abby’s body was so warm against his own. They were home, Alexander was healthy and Abby was in his arms. Everything would have been perfect if Tristan could only tell what was bothering her. For now, their discussions focused entirely on Alexander, as they probably would for the next good while. Tristan smiled, more than content to focus on this perfect little person God had blessed them with. With that thought in mind, Tristan kissed Abby’s cheek and dozed off.
~
Abby woke to silence and sat straight up in bed. She rubbed her eyes, focused on the clock, and had a small moment of panic when she saw it was seven-thirty. Alexander had a busy first night at home, waking three times for feedings. If he’d kept on his every two-hour schedule, he should have woken up for a feed an hour ago. But the bassinet was empty and Tristan was gone too, so she got up and went in search of them. They weren’t in the nursery, or the kitchen. She went to the office next and paused outside the door as she heard Tristan speaking softly.
“There you go. That’s not too bad a swaddle for an amateur. Now that you’re snug, freshly changed and fed, we can let mommy sleep a little while longer, huh?” She peeked around the corner and watched as Tristan cradled the bundle in his arms and walked to the window. “It’s your first day home. The world is out there for the taking, Alexander. But if you’re lucky, you can find the world in the heart of one woman. Your mom did that for me. And Alexander, let me tell you, that makes us two of the luckiest guys on the planet.” Tristan’s voice stayed low and calm and he swayed gently from side to side.
“I definitely don’t deserve her. But I guess I’m not too bad of a guy if...” Tristan turned and walked toward the door. Not wanting to be discovered, Abby hurried so she could tuck herself in an alcove. Tristan came by, murmuring things to the baby, not noticing her standing there.
Do it now, Abby. Do it before you lose your nerve.
With that thought in mind, Abby trailed after Tristan. It was time.
~
“Abby?” Tristan frowned at the empty bed. He walked to the bathroom, but she wasn’t there. Alexander made a tiny sound, and wriggled a little, but stayed asleep. Tristan pressed a feather-soft kiss to the baby’s head and turned in search of Abby.
He froze when he saw her in the doorway. “We came looking for you.”
“I know.” She took a few steps into the room and stopped, her hand resting on a table. She watched as he cradled Alexander and took a deep breath. “How did this happen?”
“What?”
“You.” She motioned up and down with her hand. “This.”
“Abby...” He saw the look on her face and swallowed hard.
She knows. Oh dear God.
“David wore a size twelve. You wear a size forty-eight in those Italian loafers lining your shoe rack, thirteen in your running shoes. Your pants are custom, so I can’t tell an exact inseam, but I’d bet every cent in my wallet it’s considerably longer than David’s thirty-one inch inseam. You don’t touch coffee first thing in the morning. David couldn’t function properly until he had either sex or two cups of steaming black Seattle’s Best number five. David would laugh so hard at something, he would actually snort. You don’t.”
Nausea churned in his gut. Every fear...every moment of lost sleep was coming to fruition right here. Right now.
“David would fall asleep wrapped around me, but when I woke in the morning, he would be on his back. You stay in the same position. Whether I’m draped over you or you’re spooned up behind me, you don’t move. It’s almost as if you’re afraid to let go, like you think I’ll go away if you roll over.”
He watched in abject terror as his reason for living connected all the dots.
Her blue eyes locked on his, she looked as if she were stating all of this for clarification. Like she knew it already. “There are a lot of differences. But the similarities are noticeable, at least to someone who has loved both of you.”
“Abby...”
“How did it happen, Tristan? Or do I even call you that?”
“That’s my name.”
“But has it always been your name?”
Oh God. “Yes.”
Abby closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was the picture of vulnerability, which was ironic. She held his heart in her hands and could crush him with a handful of words.
“Who are you?”
Tristan carried Alexander to the bassinet, kissed his sweet little cheek before laying him down. He covered the baby with a light blanket as he tried his damnedest to organize the words.
“I’m the man who loves you, who is truly blessed to be loved by you. I’m smart enough to admit that David Daniels was the biggest kind of idiot for ever betraying your trust, and humbled enough to realize what a stretch it was for you to give me the same.” He slowly stepped closer, but stopped a few feet away, recognizing her need for space. “I am a man who will never take anything for granted. Not anymore. I’m someone who knows exactly how hard you fought for that precious child and how very damned lucky I am to have witnessed his birth. I’ve loved you always, but I had to lose it all to realize how very much I had.”
He closed the gap between them until he stood within arm’s reach. Her eyes widened. “I’m haunted by the memories of your face as you pulled away that day. I see the pain, see the tears and it kills me.” Please God, let her believe me. I can’t lose her. Not now. “I was fortunate enough to be pulled away from death by an angel, and given a precious chance at redemption. You are the woman who granted it to me.” He ran his fingers down her cheek and she leaned into his touch. “You asked who I am. I am Tristan Emilio Ramirez and I will go to my grave loving you.”
Her lips trembled and she exhaled a shaky breath. “Are you...David?”
“Look at me, Abby. I’m Tristan.”
“But how?”
“Divine providence, the mercy of a God I turned away from. I’m not sure.”
Tears trailed down Abby’s cheeks. She shook her head. “Who is in control, Tristan or David?”
“I like to think the best parts of both. But the end result is me, and I will never betray your trust again.”
Abby watched him for a few moments, perhaps contemplating, Tristan didn’t know what she was doing. He was petrified of her reaction, until he saw her smile.
“I’m glad you’re in my life.”
Tristan’s knees went weak with relief. “I’m glad too. I can spend the rest of my days loving you the way you’re supposed to be loved, without hurting you.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but broke down. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed and Tristan held her. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He gently rocked back and forth, whispering words of love, feeling his own tears falling. Abby simply held on.
Having cried herself to a point of exhaustion, she raised her head. “Don’t leave me again.”
Tristan shook his head. “Never. Can I put a ring on your finger so you can make an honest man out of me?”
A smile curled her beautiful lips. “Absolutely. I would love to.”
Chapter Thirty
If it took forever to do an ultrasound, then the appointment for a six-week postpartum check—with a release to have sex—took an eternity. And the girl at the desk seemed to move in slow motion.
“Okay, Mrs. Ramirez, you’re all set. Have a good day.”
Abby politely thanked the girl and walked out the door with Tristan, who was carrying Alexander. Yes, she was Abby Ramirez now. Four weeks ago, they’d flown to the Caribbean and married in a private beach ceremony with only Abby’s parents and Tristan’s best man, Julian Bianchi, in attendance. Abby’s honeymoon had been chaste, but she’d done things for Tristan that made his toes curl. Tonight, he would pay her back in kind.
“Is he still asleep?”
Tristan glanced down at the sleeping infant and hoped he would continue resting. “He is. Although I’m half tempted to wak
e him up and not let him sleep at all today so he’ll be ready for bed early.”
Abby playfully smacked Tristan’s shoulder. “Right. I’m sure there are people lined up to watch him, considering that you’ve been counting down to the six-week postpartum visit since he was born.”
There was, but she didn’t know anything about the arrangements. “I’m all about being prepared, baby.”
Abby closed her door and looked back at her sleeping baby. Tristan deftly folded himself into the seat and started the ignition. His smile was heated, his gaze was smoldering. “Now Mrs. Ramirez, I think it’s time to get you home. I have plans for you.”
Tristan stopped by her parents’ house first. Her mom rushed out and took Alexander from the car, like a giddy new grandmother. Tristan reached in the back and got the diaper bag. He kept his poker face on, but Diane was smiling from ear to ear. Abby looked at the two of them in confusion. “What’s going on?”
Diane explained in the tone she used to talk to the baby. “Alexander and Nana and Papa, when he gets home, will be spending some quality time together tonight. Now you go, and have fun. We’ll be just fine right here.”
Frowning, Abby glanced at Tristan. “We’re leaving him all night?”
“Abby,” her mother said with a raised brow, “I am perfectly capable of watching my grandson.”
“I know. What if he needs me during the night?”
“Sweetheart. He’s always going to need you.” Diane responded with a kind smile. “But it’s one night. And he’ll be with his Nana and Papa.”
Thankfully, Abby agreed and after kissing Alexander’s cheeks half a dozen times and checking the diaper bag to make sure Tristan packed everything, they left.
~
Tristan drove silently back to the house, resting his free hand on hers. He squeezed it once in a while, as if to reassure her, but when Abby glanced at her husband, he was the one who seemed nervous. When they got home, Abby and Tristan went in different directions. She luxuriated in a warm bath, took the time to paint her nails, lotion and pamper appropriately. She walked into the bedroom, wrapped in a towel, and found a box on the bed. She read the attached note.
Wear this and meet me outside.
Tristan
Inside the box, there was a red chiffon dress. There was a plunging neck line and a high slit on the leg. She blushed when she realized there was no way she could wear a bra. He knew this, because there was only a pair of red silk panties, neatly folded, in the box as well. She dropped the towel and put on the panties. She slid the dress over her head next and her nipples tightened in response as the material glided down her body. There were no shoes, so she walked out of the bedroom barefoot.
Abby saw members of the staff around the kitchen as she walked past, and heard the sounds of food being prepared.
What on earth is he planning?
The light coming through the double doors was brilliant as the late September sunset cast beautiful pinks, oranges and purples across the Georgia sky. She opened the doors and saw Tristan sitting on a quilt in the grass. Her heart melted. He’d remembered that barefoot picnics in the grass were one of her favorite things. He lounged with a lascivious grin, twirling a wine glass, his long legs crossed at the ankles and his feet bare.
Abby chewed on her bottom lip and looked around as she approached. “I see picnic things but there’s no food. Or...were there other plans for bringing me out here?” She lowered herself to her knees beside Tristan and he ran his free hand up her leg.
“Food, then other plans.” Tristan inclined his head to his employees carrying trays.
There were strawberries dipped in chocolate and other fruits beautifully arranged, a selection of cheeses and an assortment of bread. Tristan poured her a glass of chilled Spanish wine. They fed each other by hand, nipping on fingers and passing heated glances. Tristan brought a peach slice to her lips and she drew his finger into her mouth instead. He put everything down and scooped Abby up into his arms.
“But the food,” she protested innocently.
“Does not matter. This does,” he said, his eyes on her as he walked toward the house. They strode through the doorway and Abby turned a bright shade of red as she wondered who’d opened the door. Tiny details like that didn’t bother Tristan and he took the steps two at a time, as if she weighed nothing at all. Abby laid her head on his chest and felt the rapid pounding of his heart. Maybe he was just as hopeful as she was or, perhaps, just as nervous.
Tristan nudged the door closed with his foot and kept moving until he got to the bed. He carefully set Abby down and used his hands to map out her curves. Her breathing became heavier. Tristan shed his shirt and Abby brought her hands up to his chest.
“Touch me, Abby.”
She splayed her hands over his skin and his heart pounded. “Kiss me.”
Tristan’s warm lips caressed hers. His hands lightly trailed up her arms, stopping so that he could cup her breasts and Abby arched into his touch. She clutched his shoulders as he continued fondling, wordlessly begging him for more. His moan let her know that he understood perfectly.
The kissing stopped and before Abby could protest, her dress slipped away, her panties meeting the same fate and Tristan’s gaze focused on her body. She got on the bed and made her way to the pillows, laying back, her arms open in wanton invitation. Not taking his eyes off her, Tristan shed his pants quickly. Abby was so very grateful for that. She was seduced already. Abby wanted Tristan so badly, she ached. She sucked in a breath as he made his way to her, his body flowed like poetry in motion. Once beside her, Tristan put his hand under her knee and pulled so that her leg draped over his.
“Abby, you are so damned beautiful.”
Her mouth opened in a perfect little O as his fingers teased her, circling her clit until her back bowed up. He knew how to move, what she liked and he played her like a virtuoso. Calling out “yes” and “don’t stop”, the powerful orgasm rocked her entire body and for a moment, she saw stars. The bed moved and Tristan groaned huskily, his deep voice full of masculine appreciation. Abby’s skin still tingled from the sensation as he positioned himself between her legs and peppered her neck with kisses.
“Now,” he whispered in a husky voice. “You are ready for me.”
He pushed against her opening, but paused before going any further.
“Look at me, Abby.” Tristan entered her slowly. “Okay?”
“Perfect.”
He thrust, in and out, picking up his pace. Abby felt like her body was made for this man. She reached up to touch his face, and he sucked her finger into his mouth. “Oh God!” Tremors rocked Abby and she called out his name like a benediction.
Tristan’s body stiffened and his orgasm followed her own. He collapsed on top of her and kissed her sweat-dampened cheek. His breath calmed enough for him to whisper by her ear, his breath causing her to shudder even more. “I will love you until the earth stops turning.”
He held her close as he rolled onto his back. “I will love you right back, every second of that time.”
He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes. And with that, all the ghosts of the past were put to rest.
Chapter Thirty-One
When all of this started, David asked Ehron about Tristan’s parents.
“What should I do about Tristan’s family?”
“You have to reintroduce yourself to them, after you’ve won Abby over.”
“That’s all? Just reintroduce myself?”
“Yes. But unfortunately, that is going to be harder than you think.”
Fully aware of how the old Tristan had treated his family, he knew that Ehron was correct. There were years of minimal contact, the briefest of conversations on the phone and letters from Spain that went unanswered. It was time to change that, if his parents would welcome him back.
Tristan explained that Alcalá de Guadaira, his parent’s hometown, was closer to Seville. But Abby had never been to Europe and was very excited to be in Spa
in. Tristan white-knuckled the steering wheel as they drew closer to the modest home where he’d grown up.
Abby took pictures as they traveled. “I can’t believe you grew up near a castle! You must have loved that when you were little.”
Tristan didn’t respond for a few moments. That castle had provided inspiration and, in many ways, that hadn’t been good. As he’d grown older and realized his family wasn’t wealthy, Tristan had become resentful. He remembered the questions he’d asked his parents, not realizing that his father was working three jobs to save money for his children’s education.
Why don’t we have a better house? Why do I have to wear someone else’s clothes? Why does Papa take the time to go to church? If he would work more, maybe we could save more.
He finally answered Abby. “The castle was an inspiration.”
She didn’t question that explanation and instead went back to taking pictures. Alexander was three months old, and sleeping well enough through the night that they’d arranged for an overnight flight on his private jet. Abby and Tristan spent the time talking, and he’d explained his hesitation to return. What he didn’t explain, however, was how much guilt he was plagued with. Tristan had taunted his parent’s faith, yet it was an angel who made it possible for him to be with Abby. And all of those hours his father had worked? He’d saved enough to fund his son’s Harvard education. Sure, Tristan had received grants but that still left a considerable amount his parents had paid without asking anything in return, and their son spent the better part of his adolescence resenting them.
“Do you ever miss this place?”
“I’ve been gone for a long time, Abby and I’ve spent almost as long in the US as I did here. I feel more at home there.”
Memories came back of the day Tristan had become a US citizen. He’d felt a connection with his new country and knew that he was meant to be there. Now, he felt certain that Abby was the reason for that feeling. He turned down the dirt road that led to his parents’ home. Abby put the camera in her bag and turned to face Tristan.
Tristan's Redemption Page 16