by Nina Crespo
Was she the only one who felt it?
She eased back to look at him, and what she saw in his eyes confirmed he did, too. His palms gliding to her back and his slow lean in made her heart skip beats. Tristan’s lips touched hers and each coaxing brush of his mouth left Chloe suspended in anticipation for the next one. As his tongue swept over her lower lip, she opened up to him on a sigh.
Where their kiss at the restaurant raised more curiosity and “what if” questions, this one clarified exactly what existed between them. Undeniable desire as strong as the thunder shaking the ground underneath her feet. It dismantled the foundation of reason and obliterated warnings about obligations and responsibilities, and why she should be concerned about them.
Tristan pulled her flush against him and Chloe slipped both of her arms around his neck, losing herself in the slow, decadent, bone-melting heat unfurling inside of her as Tristan teased, explored and laid claim to every curve and hollow of her mouth. She sank impossibly deeper into him.
As he swept kisses near her ear, his unsteady exhale tingled over her cheek. “Chloe?”
He didn’t need to say more. The tone of his voice said everything. Tristan wanted her and needed to know if she wanted him just as much.
“Yes.” As he kissed her neck, she tilted her head, giving him better access. “But can we get out of the rain?”
“Yeah, definitely.” He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. “Let’s go.”
She flipped up the hood of her jacket. Tristan took her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers, as they rushed to the SUV. He let go of her and she went to the front passenger door and he went to the driver’s side. Their eyes met before they got in, and what she saw in his face made her heart beat faster. And conveyed what was in her own thinking. She didn’t want to wait.
Without a second guess, she opened the back door of the SUV and he did the same on the driver’s side. She scrambled into the back seat with him, and as soon as the doors shut, Chloe willingly went into his arms. But their heated kisses weren’t enough. Despite the cramped space, she started to crawl onto his lap, but his grasp on her hips prevented it.
“Hold on.” Tristan reached around and tossed his phone in the driver’s seat. Then he pulled the side lever on it.
The seat fell forward, giving them a little more room.
Tristan’s phone buzzed with a message, but he ignored it.
Chloe straddled him, and in between all too brief kisses he unzipped her jacket, and she shrugged it off. Eager for the chance to run her hands over what she’d been dreaming about ever since that day at his cottage—his impressive chest and abs—she helped him take off his and reached for the hem of his pullover.
But Tristan’s deepening kiss, and his hand skimming underneath the front of her shirt and rising to cup her lace-covered breast distracted her. He flicked his thumb over her nipple and Chloe’s breath hitched. He kept stroking over the peak and desire spiraled down to her middle.
His phone buzzing several times and chiming with an incoming call made them both pause and look in that direction.
Everyone was probably wondering where they were. The realization cooled Chloe’s desire. “You should probably get that. Mace did say he’d see us at the guesthouse.”
Tristan slipped his hand from underneath her shirt. “Yeah, he did.” He laid his forehead briefly to hers. “And knowing him, he’ll come looking for us or send another deputy.” His phone chimed again with an incoming call, and he released a long exhale. “Can you reach my phone?”
She crawled off his lap, leaned between the seats and snagged the phone.
He accepted it from her and looked at the screen “It’s Philippa.”
As Tristan answered, Chloe righted her clothes, and slipped her jacket back on.
Wow. She’d rocketed from zero to the back seat of his car, tearing at his clothes in no time flat. She hadn’t been turned on by a guy enough to become that impulsive since when? College?
“Okay. I’m on my way back to the guesthouse now,” Tristan said to Philippa over the phone. “We’ll talk more about it when I get there.” He ended the call.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes. Everyone is relieved that E.J. is safe. Philippa and Mace want to talk about the security camera issue.” He paused and silence sat between them. “Chloe, I...”
Thunder boomed and shook the ground. Rain poured over the windshield.
His mouth flattened with a concerned expression. “We should go before it gets worse.”
She hopped out seconds before him, and by the time Chloe got into the front she was soaked and so was Tristan.
He swiped water from his face and blinked it from his eyes, then started the engine. His phone rang and he connected it to the SUV’s Bluetooth system before he answered. This time it was Blake—a part of the path leading from the stable to the arena was flooded because it wasn’t draining properly. Unfortunately, they couldn’t address it now. They’d have to wait until the rain let up, probably in the morning.
Tristan ended the call as they drove into the guesthouse parking lot. He pulled into a spot near the front entrance. “You ready to make a run for it?”
“I’m ready.”
They jumped out at the same time.
On the way to the steps, as she leaped over a puddle, Tristan caught her by the hand. He didn’t let go until they reached the steps to the covered porch where Mace waited for them.
Unlike at the bar, Mace was all business when he gave her a nod. “Thanks again for helping out, Chloe.” He turned to Tristan. “Got a minute?”
And just like that, her moment with Tristan was over. Stolen by responsibility...and a confusing reality. Avoiding distractions wasn’t the only reason she shouldn’t get involved with Tristan. She was really attracted to him, but was temporarily living another life. How many times in her career had she witnessed actor’s getting involved with someone living in the place where they were filming, only to have regrets or hurt feelings because things got unexpectedly complicated.
During the time she had left at Tillbridge, she didn’t need complicated, right?
Chapter Sixteen
Chloe sipped the spritzer in her wineglass. The refreshing mix of grapefruit soda and rosé flowed down smoothly...maybe a bit too smoothly. She set the glass next to her plate on the yellow-striped place mat. “These cocktails are dangerous.”
“Tell me about it.” Philippa sat next to her at the oval wood table in Rina’s dining room. She set down her own half-full glass. “The strawberry vodka in this one really gives it a kick. Too many of these, and I’ll be camped out on your couch for the night.”
Rina, sitting across from them, smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes for adding these to the Sunday brunch menu at Brewed Haven. What about the rest of it?” She pointed to the dishes of food on the table.
“My vote is yes for all of this, too.” Chloe spooned a little more of the baked blueberry French toast, and the spinach, mushroom and artichoke quiche on her plate. “I appreciate the invite.”
She’d needed the distraction. Otherwise, she may have sat in her room thinking about Tristan and wondering what he thought about their kiss the day before. Would things now be awkward between them at the stable? Should they talk about what happened?
As Philippa added the same foods to her plate along with a mini iced muffin, she looked to Chloe. “You do realize her making us Sunday brunch is actually a bribe to get us to help her with the Spring Fling gift bags. She’s hoping we’ll be too full and tipsy to notice that she’s making us work on our day off.”
“Not true.” Rina laughed as she flipped her braids over her shoulder. “Okay, yes, I am going to put you to work, but it’s not a bribe just a thank-you beforehand.”
“Uh-huh.” Philippa gave Rina a knowing smirk. “But it’s an even trade on my end. I’m stealing a co
uple of these ideas for Pasture Lane.”
The two besties started bantering over recipes and menu ideas.
Absorbed in the delicious flavors of savory, salty and sweet, Chloe sat back and listened. Like them, she was relaxed and comfortable in a T-shirt and jeans, content to eat good food and hang out with them in Rina’s two-bedroom apartment above the Brewed Haven Café.
The large windows overlooking Main Street in the town and covering most of the far wall from the dining room to the adjoining living room let in lots of sunlight. Soft white walls along with dark wood furniture, and a cream, tangerine and turquoise color palette, gave the space a light, airy welcoming feel.
Rina and Philippa’s almost nonstop conversation moved from recipes to the cute new guy that had started delivering vegetables to the restaurant and the café that looked like one of the actors on a Netflix series they were both binge watching—No. Chloe didn’t know the actor personally—to how Rina had the best commute time ever to the café from her recently renovated apartment.
They finished eating and Chloe pitched in with clearing the dishes to the adjoining kitchen. After that, they went to the living room.
“So ladies, here it is. Fifty of everything.” Rina set her full wineglass on the large square coffee table, then spread her hands over the stacks of medium-sized folded navy-and-white gift bags, photos, flash drives, wine openers, chocolate, merchant coupons and other small items grouped on the table and floor. “I think we should start with putting the photos in the albums first.”
Chloe sat down with a glass of water on the opposite side of the table on the cream couch. “Sounds good to me.”
Philippa dropped down next her, wine spritzer in hand. “So what’s on the flash drive?”
“More pictures of the Tillbridge staff from the past year.” Rina eased down to the natural beige rug. Philippa tossed her a turquoise pillow from the couch. Rina stretched out her right leg and stuck the pillow under her knee. “Almost everyone complained last year about not getting the usual keepsake album we normally give so this year we’re doing both.”
Philippa picked up one of the blue four-by-six-inch albums. She raised a brow. “Well, now we know where the money for my prime rib went.”
“But we’re still having it.” Rina flashed her an overly bright smile. “I never doubted you.”
“Yeah, yeah, you can stop with the pep talk.” Philippa waved a hand playfully dismissing her. “Lucky for everyone, I did manage it, barely. Speaking of managing things. How’s the horse riding going, Chloe? Your first time must have been a thrill.”
“Well...that hasn’t happened yet, and it’s not necessary.” Philippa’s and Rina’s puzzled stares required her to give an explanation. “I really just need to know more about horses and be comfortable around them for my audition.”
Rina shook her head. “I don’t see how you can truly be comfortable around them without riding one. What did Tristan say? I’m surprised he’s not all over you.”
An image of her and Tristan in his SUV popped into Chloe’s mind. She took a needed sip of cool water.
“Well, I’m not,” Philippa added. “Tristan’s time is spread thin with running the entire place. I don’t think he’s had a day off. When I called my supervisors this morning, they said he and Mace were checking the security cameras again because of what happened yesterday.”
Over brunch, the three of them had talked about E.J. running away.
“They also said Zurie was calling around looking for him,” Philippa added. “Apparently, he isn’t answering his phone.”
From the knowing looks Rina and Philippa exchanged this wasn’t an unexpected occurrence. “He’ll call her back when he has something new to tell her.”
Philippa chuckled. “I guess. It’s still amazing to me that those two are so far apart now. They were rodeo twins at one time.”
Chloe almost choked on a sip of water. “Twins—Zurie and Tristan?”
Rina hauled herself up from the floor. “You don’t believe it? I have proof.” She walked down the hall behind her.
Philippa looked to Chloe. “I hope you’re ready for this because she’s coming back with at least two huge books of photos.” She chuckled and settled back on the couch with her drink. “And she claims it’s everyone else who wants the photo albums at Spring Fling. Right.”
True to Philippa’s prediction, Rina returned with the two albums as well as a scrapbook.
After making space on the coffee table for them, Rina wedged herself between Chloe and Philippa and cracked open the first album. “Their twinsie moments when she was ten and he was four. That’s when Zurie started actively competing in rodeos and he idolized her. Here they are at one of her events.”
In the photo, a cute precocious-looking Tristan and smiling pint-size Zurie were geared up in cowboy hats, button-downs, jeans and cowboy boots. They had an arm wrapped around each other as she held up a blue ribbon with a medallion in her free hand.
The series of photos that followed on the pages showed them both growing older, Tristan becoming taller than Zurie, both holding trophies and ribbons and still smiling at each other like best buds.
“What events did they compete in?” Chloe asked. “And where were you?”
“Zurie’s main event was barrel racing. Tristan started out with calf riding, then moved up to riding bulls. They both competed in rodeos through high school. Me? I lived and breathed show jumping.”
Rina flipped the page and pointed to one of the photos of her as a teen, smiling next to a dark horse. A small sad smile came over her face as she stroked the edge of the photo of her younger self dressed in the traditional English riding style with high boots, tan breeches, a short black jacket and a riding helmet.
Sometimes, Rina walked with a slight limp. Did she injure herself during a competition?
Rina turned the page again to several photos. She pointed out her mother, her father, Mathew, and Tristan’s father, Jacob. The two men, twins, resembled Tristan in their height and build and had Rina and Zurie’s dark brown skin tones. The two sisters looked like their mother.
“And here’s one of all of us in front of our family home at Christmas. It was where the guesthouse is now.”
Where was Tristan’s mom? In the pictures of him when he was younger, it was Zurie and Rina’s mom who doted over him. Chloe had so many questions, but her new, growing friendship with Rina outweighed curiosity.
Philippa tapped the photo of the Tillbridges, bundled up in winter clothing on a snowy day, smiling for the camera. Behind them, Christmas lights were strung along the roof of the house and a wreath with a red bow hung on the door.
“That place was more like a mini mansion. All those bedrooms, a huge family room and that kitchen.” Philippa moaned. “It was a cook’s dream with an eight-burner stove, a center island, a huge refrigerator and a walk-in pantry. And your mama owned that space like a boss.”
“Yes, she did.” Rina laughed. “It wasn’t quite a mansion, but it was large enough for all of us to live there comfortably.”
“It looks like you had fun together,” Chloe said.
“We did.” Rina’s voice grew softer. “I really miss those days.”
Philippa gave her a friendly nudge. “Keep turning the pages.”
More photos of Rina’s, Zurie’s and Tristan’s lives were revealed.
Philippa peered at ones of Tristan and Zurie in various rodeos. “Those two were so obsessed. I’m surprised they stopped competing altogether.”
“Yeah, especially since they were so good.” Rina pointed to a corner photo. “Here she is in one of her last barrel racing competitions.”
Zurie looked to be at least twenty. The expression under her white cowboy hat was all business as she adjusted the saddle on a tan horse. The remaining photos showed her racing the horse around what looked like red, white and blue metal
storage drums in a large arena.
“What age did Tristan stop competing?” Chloe asked.
“Around the same age Zurie did, when he was twenty. He joined the army. But he was hardheaded enough to start up again for a short time when he got out four years ago.”
Rina shifted the book on her lap closer to Chloe, and a photo slipped out the back of the album to the floor.
Chloe picked it up. The picture appeared to be a more recent photo of Jacob in a black tux. He was fiftyish, maybe? He was cutting into a four-tiered wedding cake with a much younger woman wearing a form-fitting wedding gown.
“Oh.” Rina reared back a little. “How did that get in there?”
“Who is she?” Chloe handed her the photo.
Rina tucked it away between pages at the end of the album. “That’s Jacob’s wife, Erica.”
Philippa huffed a breath. “Otherwise known as the gold digger.”
Chloe couldn’t see Rina’s face as she cocked her head and stared at Philippa, but Philippa’s “whatever” expression, along with Rina’s reaction to the photo a minute ago, filled in the gaps about Tristan’s young stepmom.
She wasn’t very popular.
“Anyway.” Rina turned back to Chloe. “This is what I wanted to show you.”
She turned the pages of the album and pointed to photos of Tristan in motion, riding a bull. Another showed him more recently, looking larger than life, walking alone through what looked like a stadium tunnel in full riding gear from boots to chaps to black protective vest and a black cowboy hat.
Chloe’s heart ticked up a beat. Suddenly warm from the inside out, she picked up her glass and took a long drink. Strange. Cowboys had never been her usual type.
* * *
Tristan and Mace stood in the administrative office behind reception at the guesthouse. As they peered at the monitor on the desk, multiple views from the video cameras on the property appeared on the screen.
