Tristan (The Kendall Family #1)

by Randi Everheart

  Then he noticed her red suitcase on the floor, half filled with clothes. Was she leaving? Was that decision before or after last night? Worry gnawed at him until her heard sounds from the kitchen. He went there and arrived to find Victoria wearing pink panties, his shirt, and little else, her hair in a ponytail. She’d cracked several eggs into the frying pan she’d cracked his head with the night before. Steaming Cream of Wheat sat in two bowls. As he watched, the toaster popped up.

  “Smells good,” he remarked.

  She turned with a big smile. “Good morning, sunshine.”

  Gesturing at his nude body, Tristan advised her, “I brought breakfast.”

  She laughed while he approached. “And here I was foolishly making it. If you don’t put something on, I will indeed have you for breakfast.”

  “That doesn’t give me much incentive, you know.” Tristan wrapped his arms around her. “I saw the suitcase. Are you going somewhere? Or coming back from a trip?”

  She bit her lip and he wondered if the answer had something to do with him. “Well,” she began, “there’s a mountain tour I was supposed to go on with CMS in a few days.”

  “Yeah, but you can’t bring a suitcase on a motorcycle.”

  She looked startled and he realized she had just lied and been caught. His heart clenched. They had never done much lying to each other and the wall between them felt all the more alien because he held her tightly in his arms. That just reminded him of something else she’d kept from him, and which he’d come to discuss, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to broach that subject. That wall might just get higher. Maybe he needed to bring it down more so that it didn’t spring back up at all later. After a kiss meant to forestall further conversation about the suitcase, he left to dress.

  When he came back in only jeans, she was sitting at the oak table waiting for him, sipping OJ. For most of the meal, they said little, their eyes saying more than their mouths ever could. Both saw great affection tinged with apprehension in each other’s eyes and knew the air had yet to be cleared.

  Finally, Tristan said, “Well, there’s something I have to ask.”

  “Okay.”

  “How is it that the woman who was so afraid of motorcycles now rides them?”

  She gathered her thoughts, wondering if that was really what had been so urgent that he’d come back last night. She doubted it but played along. “I’ve suffered a lot of loss. Including you. Much of it has been right here in this house. Including you. It’s why I left, a few months after you did.”

  “You left home because of me?” he asked with a frown.

  “No. Well, sort of. I just needed to get away from here, start over somewhere else.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “New York, Florida, California, even Canada for a while. That’s where I realized that I was avoiding life for fear of loss. Someone up there had a fatal skiing accident and people kept saying how he’d at least died doing what he loved. I’d heard that before, but it got me thinking. I guess it was my time to wake up, to live my life more, and stop being afraid of life, or of death.”

  Tristan nodded approvingly, wondering if she was the same girl he’d loved. Aside from the bike thing, and an apparent willingness to be violent, she’d seemed the same. But maybe she wasn’t. He felt a pang but only remarked, “Good.”

  “That resulted in some adventures.”

  “Like what?”

  “Whitewater rafting, going caving, and parachuting.”

  His eyebrows rose at the last item. “Wow, are you kidding?”

  She smiled. “No. It scared the crap out of me but was exhilarating. Very freeing. I felt so alive, more so than since…”

  “Since what?”

  She bit her lip. “Since you left me.”

  He sighed. There wasn’t much he could say about that. “So riding a bike was just part of that?”

  “Yeah, pretty much, except it was harder. I think I had an actual phobia. I was shaking the first time I rode with someone as a test, but he was really supportive.”

  Tristan tensed. Some other guy had taken her bike virginity, as it were. That should’ve been him. His voice was tight as he asked, “Who was it?”

  She smirked behind the rim of her glass of OJ, glibly replying, “A guy I was dating. Blond. Burly. Great abs.”

  That last bit tipped her hand. He knew she was trying to make him jealous. He smirked and leaned back so she could see his belly. “You mean like these?”

  She grinned as she admired him. “Ah, no, not like those, sweetie.”

  “As long as we’ve established that.”

  “We have.”

  After a moment, he said, “I hope you took safety courses?”

  She nodded. “Of course. Every last one on the planet, I think. I probably know more about that than you do.”

  He chuckled, his abs tightening gloriously with the motion. She pursed her lips.

  “Speaking of safety,” he started, “I meant to ask you before. My head’s been a fog since, well, the first time we did it again. You said you’re on birth control?”

  Victoria muttered, “Yes, despite not dating anyone.”

  “Okay. You don’t have anything else to worry about from me. I never go without a condom.”

  “Never?”

  “No. Only with you.”

  She flushed. “Why’s that?”

  He looked deep into her eyes and sincerely admitted, “I never want anything between you and me.”

  Victoria flushed more deeply. He watched quietly, glad to see he could impact her for the better once again. She deserved it on general principles, but he also felt the need to make it up to her. And make up with her.

  “I know it’s only been a day, but I’m now more certain than ever that ending our relationship was the biggest mistake of my life. I’ve regretted it every single day since I’ve been gone.”

  She let out a slow breath. “Good.”

  “I didn’t want to do it.”

  “Then why did you?” After a moment, she quietly added something she’d wanted to tell him ever since. “You broke my heart, Tristan.”

  He felt a pang. “I didn’t want to cause you pain, but it seemed like no matter what I did, that would be the result. I thought I chose the best thing for you.”

  “What? Wait a minute. Why can’t I choose for myself?”

  “You can.”

  “But you just said you made a decision for me.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “What did you mean?”

  “You wouldn’t even watch me race, or hear about the results, because of your father’s accident, and I understood that, maybe more than you think. I only raced once in a while and you were sometimes literally sick from it, remember? I’d hear about you throwing up or feeling faint from Chloe. I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle me doing it for a living, every week. I couldn’t put you through that. So, yeah, I made the decision for you, but I also did it for me. I couldn’t take the guilt.”

  Victoria bit her lip. “I didn’t realize you were so aware of my reactions, or that they were causing you so much distress. I’d tried to keep you from finding out. I guess I thought I was being supportive to not let on. I had no idea I was affecting you.”

  “It’s okay. But see how much my riding was affecting you? I didn’t want that.” He squeezed her hand across the table.

  “Watching your career would’ve been hard, but I would’ve gone through hell for you, Tristan. What killed me was you breaking up with me.”

  The look of pain in her eyes killed him right back. “I understand. I just thought my career would’ve caused us no end of turmoil. I think it would’ve destroyed us.”

  “You breaking up with me did that pretty well.”

  “No it didn’t. It ended us. It didn’t destroy us. It didn’t make us hate each other’s guts and never want to see each other again.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. There were times I hated your guts.” Her tone sugges
ted she wasn’t entirely serious, as if she’d wanted to feel that way but hadn’t. Not really.

  He made a face. “I deserve that, but what I mean is that sometimes so much that’s bad happens between two people that they can never get over it, never be together again. That’s part of what I was afraid of. I couldn’t bear you hating me forever.”

  “I could never hate you, Tristan. But sometimes one person is hurt so badly by the breakup that ever being together again may be impossible anyway.”

  Tristan’s heart clenched, a rush of despair stealing air from his lungs. He didn’t want to draw another breath, as if to do so would allow time to advance and make this sentiment a reality he couldn’t escape. He didn’t know it, but his pained expression was the same look he’d put on Victoria’s face five years earlier. Seeing his reaction, she intertwined their fingers. Their eyes met, and in her gaze he saw understanding. And a hint that she hadn’t meant to say all hope was lost. He finally breathed in and out slowly, squeezing back.

  Tristan said, “I’m so sorry to have hurt you by breaking up with you, sweetheart. I was certain you would’ve be hurt more by staying with me, and that you would’ve come with me anyway and it would’ve ruined us. At least this way, there was always a chance we’d reconnect.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t think I’d wait for you, did you?”

  He flushed. She saw it and frowned.

  “Only if you wanted me back,” he replied.

  “And if I didn’t?”

  “Well, that would’ve broken my heart and you could’ve had some revenge.”

  “Revenge isn’t really my thing, and I’d never intentionally hurt you.”

  “I know. I’d never intentionally hurt you either. I knew breaking up would hurt, but I thought it was the lesser of two evils. You must believe me.” He came around the table and knelt beside her, kissing her cheek. She kissed him back and he took that for acceptance.

  After a moment, he asked dubiously, “So do you think you could watch me race now?”

  She let out a big breath and hesitated to answer. “I don’t know. The idea doesn’t bother me as much, certainly.” She bit her lip. “See, it’s the same thing as before. I don’t want to say that I can’t do it and then have you talk about giving it up for me or something, because that would make me feel guilty. I’d feel like I’m being unsupportive.”

  “That’s why you hid your reactions before.”

  “Yes.”

  He gave her a hug. “You know, in a way, that’s very sweet.”

  “But?”

  “But you were hiding the truth. When I found out, I was upset that you hadn’t told me, and that you weren’t letting me support you. And that I was having that impact on you. So later when I wanted to go off racing, I knew it would be even worse, your reactions, your lying about it.”

  She flushed at the accusation of lying, even though it was true. “I hadn’t meant to lie, sweetie. I guess either way, someone was upset.”

  “Right. I figured the relationship had to end even though that would hurt both of us. It would be a onetime pain that was worse, but after that we could both move on.”

  “I could never move on from you, Tristan. I never really did.”

  His heart leapt and he kissed her. “Yeah, me either. So that brings up back to the question—can you handle me racing now?”

  “I don’t know. It’s something I have to think about.”

  “Okay. That’s fair.”

  Changing subjects to something she’d wanted to know, she asked, “Why did you come back, Tristan? Don’t say it was for me. You didn’t know I was in Comus.”

  “Well, I was suspended for a month, so I had to do something and came home. But I was hoping for at least some sign of you, or to ask your mother where you were so I could find you. I didn’t know she’d passed.”

  “Would you really have gone looking for me?” From anyone else, it would’ve sounded too good to be true.

  “To the ends of the earth.”

  Tristan sealed his sincerity with a kiss. Part of him wanted to talk about the baby, but he felt like they’d just covered some pretty heavy stuff as it was. It didn’t appear that they’d be spending a lot of time apart and he’d have other chances to talk about that. For now, he disengaged.

  “I need to go get some clothes out of my saddle bags.” Tristan rose and turned to go, then stopped, unsure if he should ask something. “Should I get it all or just something for today?”

  She looked up at him, then shyly away. “You can stay tonight, but let’s take this one day at a time.”

  “Okay. I can live in the moment, as long as the moment includes you.”

  She turned a little red. “You’re a lot more charming than you used to be.”

  “That’s because I know what I want now.”

  Deciding to quit while he was ahead, he left and went to the back door, but he never made it through because something caught his eyes and stopped him short. Connor’s car stood where he’d left it, right next to his bike, which wasn’t there.

  “Hey, Victoria, my bike is gone.”

  “Stop joking,” she said from the kitchen.

  “I’m serious. I parked right next to it. It’s missing.”

  Victoria came up behind him, giving him a hug and looking out the window. Her smile faded. “Whoa. That’s crazy.”

  “Someone stole my bike.”

  Chapter 8 – The Sheriff

  Tristan stared at the spot where his sport bike was supposed to be standing but wasn’t. He didn’t have an attachment to that particular one; as a professional racer, he went through them with some regularity and never got too used to any single motorcycle. This was a street bike, not one tuned for the track, but the reality of the only ride he had available to him being stolen was settling in. He was pissed.

  Still hugging him from behind, her fingers playing with his nipples, Victoria said, “We should call the police.”

  “Yeah. You left the bike in gear, right?”

  “No, in neutral, I think. Easier to start later because I can just stand next to it while it’s warming up.”

  Tristan sighed. Like Victoria, he always stood next to his bike while it was in neutral, and then would start it. While it was running, he’d finish putting on his helmet and gloves before getting on, putting it in gear, and leaving. If the bike was in gear when he started it, he had to hold the clutch in with one hand until he rode away, to keep it from stalling or jumping off the kickstand, preventing him from dealing with the helmet, gloves, or anything else while the bike warmed up.

  He said, “Never leave a bike parked in neutral.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because people can just wheel it away to steal it, without starting it. Even if it is in gear, two big guys can lift a bike into a pickup truck and take off with it, but they’d have to drive back here with the truck, so we might’ve heard them.”

  Her face fell. “Shit. I never thought of that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “When would I have had the chance? Why don’t you already know that, anyway?”

  “Nobody told me.”

  “Well, they should’ve. All the more reason you should’ve learned riding from me.” He didn’t mean to sound accusatory but still did.

  “You could’ve told me that all those years ago even without me riding.”

  “You wouldn’t even get on a bike. The idea of telling you how to park one didn’t exactly come up.”

  She laughed. “Okay, okay, so it’s my fault someone stole your bike.”

  “Which you stole first,” he observed wryly.

  She said teasingly, “Yeah, you’re not doing a great job of keeping it safe, you know.”

  Smiling, he let that one pass and pulled out his phone. “Let me call Quinn. I want to give him a heads up.”

  “Hey, Tristan,” said Quinn when he picked up, his voice amused. “I noticed you didn’t come home last night.”

  “Do we have to start
there?”

  Quinn laughed. “That’s the best part! I assume you two patched things up?”

  Grinning at Victoria, who could hear every word because the phone’s speaker volume was turned all the way up, Tristan said, “Sort of. We can talk later, but I’m calling now because my bike was stolen from behind her house.”

  “Seriously?” Quinn asked. “What’s with you and this bike being stolen?”

  “The first time didn’t count. This one does.”

  “Call Ryan. He told me something about bikes being stolen around here a while back.”

  “Cousin Ryan? I might need more than a deputy.” Only after saying it did Tristan realize he didn’t know how a deputy differed from a sheriff. The last he’d heard, Ryan was part of the Comus police department, which wasn’t big. It wouldn’t have taken long to move up to sheriff, not that Tristan had given Ryan’s career much thought, having assumed he’d long since moved on to something else.

  Breaking into Tristan’s thoughts, Quinn said, “He is the sheriff.”

  “Really? Since when?”

  “Year ago or so. You need his number?”

  “Yeah.”

  Quinn rattled it off, and they made plans to meet at Connor’s later so Tristan could return Connor’s BMW and borrow one of Quinn’s cars instead. Then Tristan called his cousin, learning that the old sheriff had retired and recommended Ryan to take over. This wasn’t the life Ryan planned, but he’d gotten used to looking after all the people he’d grown up around. Being known, liked, and respected had given him a feeling of belonging and happiness that he hadn’t expected. There were worse things than being content, even if the pay wasn’t what he could earn in other fields.

  Ryan wasn’t that surprised by the motorcycle theft and came over within an hour, finding a freshly showered couple inviting him inside via the front door. Tristan wore his own shirt and jeans once again, but without clean underwear to put on, he’d just gone commando instead, to Victoria’s approval. She’d donned a rose-colored spring dress and high heels that made Tristan feel like he was losing his mind.

  “Hey, cousin, looking good in the uniform,” said Tristan, giving Ryan a hug.

  Sheriff Ryan stood a lean six feet four, broad-shouldered with muscles everywhere under the brown uniform. Wavy brown hair brushed his ears. He had a tattoo of a dagger on one forearm, polished black shoes, and an array of items on his black belt, including pepper spray, a gun, and handcuffs. Steel-blue eyes shone with inner light as he hugged Tristan and gazed at Victoria in appreciation.