by Jen Talty
“Wow,” she whispered, blinking, trying not to look at Tristan, but found it impossible. “He was talking about you.”
“I don’t blush often, but I am now.” Tristan rested the note in his lap, staring at her. “I know he wanted us to meet and always told me he knew we’d hit it off, but wow. Just wow. To leave that in a note like this. I’m stunned.”
“Me too,” she whispered. “But can we talk about that later?” More memories of her grandfather talking about the perfect man flooded her brain. She’d thought he’d been talking figuratively, but all the while, he’d meant Tristan.
“Of course. There is a lot to take in and that is something we can deal with later.” He pressed his lips against her temple.
She shuddered. “My father always told me that lies, even the ones we tell to protect our loved ones, are usually not worth it in the long run.”
“Do wish your grandmother had been upfront about your father’s paternity from the very beginning?”
For a long moment, she stared at the pendant holding both her parents and grandparents wedding picture. “Hell no.” The necklace felt heavy in her hands. “If it weren’t for this stupid thing, I might have been able to go on with my life, oblivious of this truth. Imagine what my father’s life, my life, would have been like if we had to deal with them as family our entire lives. They would have treated me like the red-headed ugly step-child.”
“Do you really think your father didn’t know?”
She pondered that question as she put the necklace in the pouch. Her father had left Lake George right after he’d graduated from high school. First spending a summer working at a camp as a counselor. He’d met her mother their first week at SUNY Plattsburg, and much like her grandparents, fell in love quickly. “I think he believed in the life my grandparents created. He always loved coming back here, said they looked to live here, but there just wasn’t a job for him or my mom.”
“They both taught at the college there, right?”
She nodded. “My dad never paid any attention to the Ramsworths. Never said a bad thing about them, but certainly didn’t say anything good either.”
“We need to hide this box again, and I don’t want to leave it here. Something tells me, those break-ins have something to do with the contents of this box.”
“What am I going to do?” She turned and looked at Tristan. His dark eyes staring deep in her soul as if he were trying to reach inside and kiss her heart. Her breath hitched. “I’ve got to do the community service and anger classes. I’ve got this pending lawsuit. I need to get a job, which I suspect is going to be impossible until the arrest is off my record for good.”
“I might have a job prospect for you. It would be in Saratoga.”
She narrowed her eyes, balling her fists. “I don’t want anyone pulling strings for me.”
“I’d only be able to get you in the door, and that’s only if there’s a job opening. You’d have to sell them on why they should hire you and then you’re the one who has to keep the job, not me.”
“I’ll take the opportunity, if that’s the truth.”
“It is.” He tossed two envelopes of money in her lap. “Pay cash for groceries, gas, anything you can.”
“I’m not using this money.” She glared at him. “My grandparents didn’t.”
“Your grandparents weren’t being sued for a million dollars and until we figure out how exactly we’re going to make that go away, you need to save your money so you can flip this place and move past this shit.”
Other than the last few months, Brooke had spent her entire life living off logic, never making a rash decision. Even moving in with Larry had been carefully planned out. It had made Larry nuts, considering he’d tossed the idea out there one night over dinner. He’d said it wasn’t planned and by the way the words spewed from his mouth, she believed it and that freaked her out. She spent the next three weeks contemplating and planning the best way to go about taking the next step in their relationship, which meant marriage needed to be on the table.
Talk about not being romantic.
“You’re right. I’ll take the money.”
“I want you to let me take the jewelry to the place my mom uses. I think we need to have these items valued.”
“Couldn’t it then become public that I have the items and cause people to wonder why I have them? I really don’t want attention brought to me or my father’s paternity.”
“Neither do I.” He took the box and set it on the nightstand. “Jillian said she was going to come up with a plan after looking into some laws or whatever. We sit tight and do nothing until we’ve talked to her. Then we make the shit go away.”
“Thank you.” She slid down the bed, rolling to her side, tucking her hands under her cheek.
“For what?” His fingers tangled in her hair, putting pressure on her scalp.
She sighed. “For picking up the phone when a stranger called.”
He laughed, tugging her head into his lap, fingers dancing up and down her arm, across her neck. Hard to believe any woman wouldn’t want to be curled up in his arms.
“I almost never answer calls from numbers I don’t recognize.”
“Then why’d you answer?”
“Pulling you over had put me in a bit of a sour mood. I figured Rusty was waggling his finger at me for not saying anything to you considering all of our conversations. I assumed it would be a telemarketer and since I had no plans, I thought I’d entertain myself by harassing the person on the other end.”
“That’s mean.” Draping her arm over his thighs, she let her mind wonder back to their first encounter. The way he looked at her had been with compassion, not judgment. Not something you’d expect from a police officer who had pulled you over for reckless driving.
“I was bored, but also wondering what would have happened if Rusty had been able to introduce us.”
“That’s an interesting thought.” Even early on in her relationship with Larry, there’d been a distance between them. She’d told herself she didn’t want to let anyone in too fast because that’s how people get hurt.
“I feel connected to you,” he whispered. “I have from the moment I laid eyes on you and I’ve only felt that way once before, but it wasn’t even remotely as strong as this.”
Admitting she felt the same way would make her vulnerable in a way she’d never been before. Being vulnerable meant being weak, or at least it used to. She took risks all the time when it came to work. Closing a deal often meant playing your boss and the customer, trying to do right by both of them. Being with Larry, she’d treated it much the same way. A business deal.
She closed her eyes. This thing with Tristan started out the exact same way.
A deal.
She took a deep breath, blinking a few times, her focus landing on the box. “I asked you to help me with the key, and you’ve done that. You don’t need to do anymore. I’m not really sure I helped you with women, but I think we’ve kept our promises to each other.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” His hand dropped to the bed. “I tell you I care about you and start babbling on about an agreement we made, that quite frankly, I only suggested because I wanted to be with you.” He lifted her head, resting it on a pillow as he stepped from the bed. “You’re really going to push me away now?”
Was that what she was doing? “I don’t mean to.” She wanted to get out of the bed, put her arms around him, and kiss him like there was no tomorrow, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“Really? Because I just told you I’m falling head over heels for you, putting my heart out there, and you’re just going to toss it aside. Jesus, Brooke. That’s really cold.”
The bed shook as he stomped out the room. Moments later, she heard the fridge slam shut.
What the hell was she doing? Tristan had been nothing but kind to her and she genuinely liked him. Fuck. It was a hell of lot more than like, but the connection scared her.
Not h
aving the connection, though, would be worse.
She took in a deep breath and made her way to the kitchen. He leaned against the doorjamb into the family room, swigging a beer.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But I just broke up with a man I thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t think I’m over it yet. It wouldn’t be fair to you to keep this going.”
Tristan laughed, only it wasn’t a ha ha funny laugh. “You’ve been over that asshole for some time now. The only thing that’s got you tied up in knots with regard to him is the fact that you lost control. But more importantly, you’re mad because you saw it coming and you didn’t do anything about it. Just like when my sister got into that go-cart, I reminded her of her times, and how close she was to a world record, putting that thought in her head.”
Brooke covered her mouth, squelching a gasp. “Your sister’s death isn’t your fault.”
“No, it’s not, but it’s a statement I carry around with me. I knew before I said it, she was planning on going for it. Even when I told her to take the corners easy, I could sense her adrenalin and I knew she’d push hard.” He turned, taking another long draw from the glass bottle. “You were right when you said my problem with women started when Tamara died and then got worse when Brenda didn’t return my feelings. If you don’t feel what I do, fine, just say it. But don’t insult me and use Larry, the loser, as an excuse.”
“It’s not Larry that is the issue.” Brooke ducked her head into the fridge and pulled out a beer for herself. “Larry and I were set up, but the beginning of our relationship was much like a business arrangement. Kind of like, I scratch your back, you scratch mine. You and me?” She waved her finger between them. “Feels like a business deal, so no matter the connection, I don’t trust it.” She started to pace behind the small kitchen table. Her pulse raging. “Being with you feels comfortable and I don’t know what to make of that. I’ve known you for what? A couple of weeks? And just a few minutes ago, when you stepped from the bed, I felt you retreat. Fuck, Tristan. I felt whatever you did and that I just don’t know what to do with.”
“You accept it,” he said sternly. “Or you build a wall to prevent it. From the time Brenda broke up with me until this moment. I’ve been building walls. I didn’t know that’s what I was doing, but I suppose it was some defense thing, protecting myself, but I’m tired of it and I care about you and want to be with you. What do you want?”
She stopped pacing, sipping her beer, staring at him. His dark eyes lacking their usual spark and she’d done all that because she didn’t want to be vulnerable and was too scared of knowing what he felt all the time.
“I want to understand.”
“Understand what?”
“My grandmother and I were connected on so many levels. It used to bother me that I didn’t have it with my parents, and I loved them deeply.” She wiped the tears that she had no control over. Not being able to be in charge of how her body reacted to emotions scared her so much she wanted to lock them up in a deep, dark corner of her brain. “I used to think there was something wrong with me that I couldn’t connect with my mother the same way and let me tell you, she was the best mother ever.”
“Tamara was the only one where the connection was so deep it would totally freak anyone out. I once woke at two in the morning, startled. Her plane had just landed and I think it was the jolt.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “No-one but twins can have that kind of deep-seated connection, I think. But we have deep emotional ties to certain people. Outside of Tamara, my grandfather on my dad’s side and I have that kind of bond. Growing up, he always tried to treat us grandkids the same, but I think my siblings and cousins sensed it. It’s not that he loved me more, or I was extra special or something, just a simple understanding.”
“Well, I don’t understand it with you,” she said, slamming her beer on the counter. “I did push you away because this connection or deep bond or whatever this is, it’s freaking me the fuck out.”
Tristan laughed.
“It’s not funny.”
“If you saw your face, you’d think it was funny.”
She pursed her lips. “Doubtful.” But she couldn’t help cracking a slight smile. “You make me crazy.”
“Hopefully, that’s a good thing.”
“No idea,” she said. “I do care about you, but I need to know you’re here because you like me, not because of some duty or responsibility you feel because of my grandfather, or because I asked you for help.
He quietly set his beer down and closed the gap. Taking her hand, he placed it on the center of his chest. “I’d do almost anything you asked. I want you, and only you. I’m sure I’ll manage to say something stupid every now and then, but at least you laugh when I do. As far as what will happen a few months down the road? No idea, but I’m willing to put my heart on the line.”
“You are the weirdest, strangest, kindest, most adorable man I’ve ever met.”
He circled his arms around her waist, staring deep into her eyes. “Don’t push me away again.”
“I can’t promise I won’t do that.”
“At least that’s honest,” he whispered, before pressing his full lips against hers in a slow, tender kiss. Every cell in her body erupted in a sizzle, similar to those sparklers used on the fourth of July, going off at different times. Her muscles melted into his strong frame. Every time he’d taken her to bed…or took her in general, he’d been attentive to her needs, which seemed like an oxymoron. They’d been wild with sex, but this felt different. Not tame. It certainly got her wet with anticipation, but the way his tongue teased hers, gently stroking the inside of her mouth, told her this would be an experience of a lifetime.
She shuddered.
“Something wrong?” He kissed her neck and she shivered again. “Or do you just like that.” He sucked her earlobe into his mouth and she moaned.
“Come on.” He took her by the hand and led her toward the bedroom, stopping just as they crossed the threshold. He leaned against the wall, tickling his finger from her chin to her cleavage. “I like everything about you.”
She looked down at her heaving chest, two of his fingers running across the top of her breasts. Sucking in a deep breath, she tried to guide his hands into her bra and over her nipples. Instead he cupped the underswell, gliding his hand down to her hips. The way he looked at her set her skin on fire. Normally, this would be the point where her patience would run thin, and she’d push him back, slamming him on the bed, straddling him. Sex had always been a game in gaining power. It was like she needed to be in control in order to keep it…just sex.
Being admired like she was the only person for a man wasn’t something she’d been used to, but she never really allowed it.
Too intimate.
Too real.
Yet right now, she wanted to hang her heart out there, even if someday he broke it.
Gently, he tugged her shirt over her head.
She caught his gaze, expecting to see lust, but instead she saw something close to love. Impossible, but that’s exactly what her mind and body screamed. Not the desire to be with him physically and have their bodies ravished in the primal need for sex, but the desire to create something magical, even if it did end with the same physical result, but the way you got there was different.
He smiled, as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. Feeling.
A quiet laugh escaped her lips.
“It’s not going to be easy for me not to bend you over that bed and—”
She cupped his mouth. “Don’t go and ruin the moment by putting that vision in my head.”
He arched a brow.
“I want you to make love to me.” The words tumbled out of her mouth. She’d never been one to separate the act of sex with making love other than most people saw some sexual acts as kinky, or not normal, where she saw all of it as an expression of caring for someone.
Only, this felt very different.
/>
“I haven’t been doing that?” he asked with an inquisitive stare.
“Maybe you have, but I’ve been making it only about sexual release, not feelings. Does that make sense?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Yeah, It does.”
“Does that scare you?” she asked.
He shook his head. “But your ability to go from pushing me away, to sucking me in, does.” He pressed his hands against the wall behind her.
Resting her hands on his hips, she leaned in and kissed the center of his chest. “What scares me the most is never feeling like I do right now, here, with you, again.”
A deep groan vibrated from his throat as he separated her lips with his tongue. His fingers curled around her neck as his thumb gently rubbed her high cheekbone.
With her hand planted directly on the center of his chest, she felt his heartbeat, pounding in unison with hers. Wanting to feel his skin, she slowly lifted his shirt. When their lips parted, she sighed, the words they’d exchanged hanging between them, circling them, binding them, stripping her bare. Thankfully, as soon as his shirt had been tossed to the side, his hot tongue swirled around hers, sending warmth to all the right places.
Her hand shook with uncertainty as she eased her fingers into his belt, releasing the hook. His hands held her breasts with tender care. His lips touched the side of her neck like the magic of a brush against the canvas. Her body shivered and her vision blurred.
The room smelled like Tristan, a combination of sunshine and whiskey. A scent that could easily make her drunk.
His hands made their way to the clasp of her bra, releasing her aching breasts. She leaned against the wall, breathless, not knowing what to do next, as if this were the very first time she’d ever been with a man. Closing her eyes, she tried to regain her control.
“Open your eyes,” he whispered.
Her eyes snapped to his, locking gazes as his finger traced a line from her chin, to the space between her breasts, over her stomach, stopping at the top of her shorts, before undoing them.