Tristan (The Kendall Family #1)

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Tristan (The Kendall Family #1) Page 9

by Randi Everheart


  “Is that what you want?” he asked. “To stay on your own?” When she pursed her lips as if the answer was both no and yes, he added, “I was hoping we’d be together now. You don’t want to be?”

  “I do want to be together,” she admitted.

  “Are you sure? I know I just got back and things heated up pretty quickly, but I want this to last this time.”

  “So do I. I’m just afraid it won’t. You’re not quitting racing, and I’m not asking you to, and I don’t know yet if I can handle you doing it. I still need time to think.” They stood looking at each other for a moment. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

  “It’s okay. I guess we have some stuff to get through.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know. I guess I felt like it’s too soon to be relying on you for something.”

  He came over and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s never too soon. And never too late.”

  She flushed and looked up with a twinkle in her eyes, then looked away. For a moment, Tristan thought her eyes had watered, but she’d let her long hair fall over her face and he couldn’t tell for sure.

  “Tell you what,” he began, changing the subject to let her have her moment to herself, “why don’t I rent a Goldwing? I’ll drive and you can hang out on the big back seat and relax. That way I’m only renting a bike for me.”

  Victoria admitted, “I’ve never been on one of those. They seem huge.”

  “Weigh a ton, too. They’ve got a radio and everything. It’s a more relaxed riding position, too. I’m used to a sport bike for long periods but I wouldn’t want your ass to hurt from all day on a crotch rocket. Then again, maybe I could give you a massage afterward.”

  She smirked. “All day on your crotch rocket sounds like a wonderful time. You don’t need an excuse to get your hands on my ass, either, honey.”

  “Oh, I know.” He gave her a squeeze there. “Let’s head downstairs. I’m sure they’re wondering what we’re doing up here.”

  She chuckled. “I think they know perfectly well.”

  He grinned and led her downstairs, discovering that Riley had left and been replaced by Chloe, who’d driven Quinn’s car here for them to use. She hadn’t talked to Victoria in years. Since Tristan had been crazy about his girl, that had automatically put Victoria on good terms with the Kendall family. Chloe and Victoria had spent a lot of time together, but after the breakup, they hadn’t seen much of each other. That came with the territory of being friends through a lover, but it still sucked. Now they broke into genuine greetings and questions about what the other had been up to. After a minute, Tristan excused himself, leaving the two women alone. He’d heard Connor in the kitchen and wanted to talk to him about the picnic idea, thank him for the car he’d returned and the clothes he was taking, and see what these renovations were all about.

  “I’m glad you two patched things up,” Chloe said, as she and Victoria sat beside each other on the living room couch, their positions having them not really looking at each other during the conversation. “I was worried me and my big mouth had caused trouble.”

  “What do you mean?” Victoria had always found Chloe’s directness an endearing quality that made her trustworthy, though it was true Chloe had a tendency to spill secrets without meaning to. It was one reason Victoria hadn’t told Chloe about the pregnancy long ago, not that she would’ve before telling Tristan.

  “You know the whole business with you and the clinic, back when you two broke up,” Chloe said. “Tristan and I were just talking the other day and I told him that I thought he’d be a good father now and that it was too bad you guys didn’t go through with it. When he didn’t know what I meant, I told him about your visit to the clinic. The look on his face said pretty clearly that he hadn’t known.”

  Victoria’s face had frozen into an alarmed look, but Chloe happened to not be looking and didn’t notice. “Know what?” she asked in an even voice.

  “About the baby, silly.” Chloe turned and looked Victoria in the eyes. The expression there told her that she’d done it again; she’d unintentionally spilled the beans. She clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. “Oh my God! He hasn’t talked to you about it?”

  The walls seemed to close in on Victoria. She had to prop herself up by both arms to fight against a wave of dizziness. “No.”

  “But that was the whole reason he went back to talk to you the other night!” Chloe glanced toward the kitchen, not sure if she should be angry at herself or at Tristan for somehow evading a huge topic and causing her to stick her foot in her mouth, not that this was really his fault. But still.

  I knew it! Victoria thought. I knew he didn’t come back to ask about why I’d started riding. Why didn’t he say anything? Jesus. Victoria sighed and quietly asked, “What did you tell him?”

  Chloe gulped, not sure what to admit now. “I’m not sure I should say.”

  “I think it’s too late for that. Come on.”

  “I’m so sorry. I just assumed…”

  Victoria put a comforting hand on her arm. “It’s okay. Something came up instead, I guess.” Like me hitting him with the frying pan. And then sex. Lots of sex. “But what did you tell him?”

  “Well, I just said I thought you might have had a, uh, procedure there. You know, for a pregnancy that wasn’t, um, going to continue.”

  Victoria briefly closed her eyes. Holy shit. She met Chloe’s eye. “Well, he and I still need to talk about that. I thought I had a secret to tell him, but I guess it’s less of one than I thought.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Maybe you did me a favor. Easier to bring it up now.”

  “You’re just trying to make me feel like less of an ass.”

  Victoria chuckled. “Sort of, but I mean it.”

  Chloe squeezed her hand. “He was wondering what happened at the clinic.”

  Victoria returned her gaze and realized what she meant. “I should probably tell him this first, but just so you know, it was a miscarriage.”

  Now it was Chloe’s turn to close her eyes for a second. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, I was sorry, too.”

  “Sorry about what?” Tristan asked, returning. He hadn’t put his riding boots back on, his socks letting him quietly pad across the floor so that they hadn’t noticed his approach until he spoke.

  Both women looked up and then shared a glance with each other.

  “Nothing,” said Victoria. “Girl stuff.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Chloe. “And I’m not saying a word.”

  The women laughed.

  A short while later, having hugged everyone good-bye, Tristan and Victoria left in Quinn’s car, Tristan taking a small backpack full of Connor’s clothes until he replaced the weeks’ worth of clothing he’d brought to Comus. Once back at her house for lunch and a dessert of each other’s lips and unmentionables, Tristan left to see his other sister, Kris, who he still hadn’t seen. The previous twenty-four hours had thrown off his plans to get reacquainted with family. His time with Kris and the horses—some old, some new—in their family-owned Sugarloaf Stables strengthened his homesickness. He was so happy to be back that he didn’t want to leave again. That everything he truly loved was here sank in more by the minute.

  Victoria used the time to straighten up her house. She hadn’t expected company, not to mention someone moving in, however briefly it might be. She tried to ignore her questions about why he hadn’t mentioned the baby any more than she had. She set out separate towels for him, washed the sheets, and made closet space for him. The feeling of making a home for them both filled her with affection that she tempered with restraint. Living in the moment was enough for now, and she found herself humming while sweeping and dusting, even though she hated cleaning. Among the items she cleaned was a naughty negligée she hadn’t needed in forever. After a shower, she put it on under her flowing skirt and a sweater for their date later that night. Red pumps and her best diamond earrings, necklace, and
bracelet completed her outfit, along with the most makeup he’d seen her in since years ago.

  When Tristan returned with roses in one hand, a brown sport jacket above his blue jeans, he gaped at her.

  “You look stunning,” he murmured, admiring the drape of her hair over one shoulder, her cleavage, and the way her calves looked above the heels.

  “And you look more handsome than I ever remember,” she purred, putting both arms around his neck, brushing hair that he’d slicked back after a shower back at Quinn’s house. “Where are you taking me?”

  “To heaven.”

  She giggled. “I meant for dinner.”

  “A guy has to have some secrets.”

  With an hour, they were seated at her favorite Italian restaurant in Little Italy, Baltimore, where dimly lit, old-world charm added class to their renewed affections. Chianti added just the right flavor to their stuffed mushrooms, mozzarella-topped garlic bread, eggplant parmesan, and braised duck.

  “I didn’t know you eat duck or eggplant,” Victoria observed.

  He shrugged. “Some of my sponsors are a little more elegant than me, so I’ve had to do some fine dining over the years. I learned to try things I’d always scoffed at. Learned they weren’t too bad.”

  “So you have grown up.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I love it, Tristan. You were never the macho type, really, but you always ordered a steak here before. If you’re trying to impress me, it’s working.”

  He flushed, for she looked so radiant and beautiful that her admiration infused him with ambition to win her heart again. To sit across from this woman every day seemed a wonderful outcome, grander than any championship he’d earned. Women had thrown themselves at him for years, but no one compared to her. The candlelight shining in her warm brown eyes beckoned him to stare into her soul and never look away.

  “So,” she began, “what’s the racing circuit been like, aside from fine dining?”

  Tristan sipped the Chianti. “Not all glamorous. Usually not, in fact. It’s a lot of travel, different hotel every few days. While you tour the world, you never really see anywhere you go.”

  “I remember there’s a lot of prep before a race.”

  “Right. I’m usually at the track, between qualifying runs and checking out the crew’s work on the bike. Or traveling. It’s only the race itself that is really great, and meeting fans.”

  She looked down into her wine glass before asking, “Lots of female fans?”

  He grinned. “No, mostly guys, but there are some, if you know where to look.”

  “I seriously doubt you have to go looking for them.”

  “They show up after a win, certainly. And it’s always nice to sign my name on a woman, I’ll admit.”

  “I bet. You should sign your name on me. With your tongue.”

  His cock stiffened. “Didn’t I already? I’ll have to repeat it just to make sure.”

  “Can’t wait.” She nibbled on the bread and then added, “Did you see anyone long-term?”

  He hesitated. “Do you really want to know that kind of stuff?”

  “Not really,” she admitted.

  “No one serious, just so you know. I couldn’t seem to do it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Hung up on someone, probably.”

  She smiled more widely than she meant to and gave him a long look. “You’re not just saying that.”

  He noticed that wasn’t a question. “No, I’m not. I’ve never gotten you out of my head. Or heart.”

  “Good.”

  “What about you? I know guys must have been chasing after you.”

  “No one caught me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Too busy running from memories of you.”

  He wasn’t sure if that was a complaint or a compliment but took it as the latter. “Well, you don’t have to run anymore.”

  “Oh, yeah? You think you caught me? Maybe a girl likes to be chased.”

  “Oh, believe me, honey, I’m in full pursuit, just like on the track, craving victory. And I will hoist you in the air higher than any trophy I’ve ever won.”

  She grinned and decided to tease him with mock indignation. “So I’m a trophy, huh?”

  Catching her tone, he answered, “Damn right. The best ever.”

  “You’re incorrigible.” She smiled shyly.

  “I know.”

  They sat quietly for a few minutes before she said, “Let’s say I was okay with your racing. Would there be a place for me on your touring circuit?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

  “Do other riders have a girl with them?”

  “Not really. Not for long. Sometimes wives visit.”

  “So it’s a solitary life.”

  “Doesn’t have to be. Maybe that’s the way they want it. I know some do because they don’t really like their wives that much.”

  “That’s depressing.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think that would work for me, the long-distance relationship thing. I’d miss you too much.”

  He smiled. “Well, we can’t have that.”

  “How much do you love that lifestyle? Is it everything that you had thought it would be? Are you happy?” She bit her lip.

  Tristan looked away, wanting to give her an honest reply but not being sure what the answer was. He’d been struggling to figure that out lately. “I’m not sure anymore. Ever since the fight that got me suspended, I’ve been wondering. I mean, sometimes I get a little riled up on tour and I’ve been thinking maybe it’s due to some unhappiness or unrest I haven’t realized was there.”

  “What do you think it could be?”

  “I don’t know, but it reminds me of how I felt before I left to go racing. You know, that’s the feeling that made me choose that life, and now that life is what makes me feel that way. Funny, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe you’re ready for a change of some kind.”

  “Could be.”

  “Have you accomplished what you set out to do? And what was that, anyway? I was never really sure.”

  He pursed his lips. “I thought I told you?”

  “You might’ve. I just might not have heard. All I really heard was that you’d be racing all the time and the danger to you. The reason you wanted to probably got lost in my fears.”

  “I can see that. So all this time you weren’t even sure why I left?”

  She nodded. “I had a vague idea, but that didn’t comfort me a lot.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Well, it was partly to make a name for myself away from my family, but racing has been the only thing I’ve ever been good at—”

  “You’re pretty damn good in bed, too, sweetie,” she interrupted.

  “Yeah but I can’t make a living doing that.” He paused. “Well, I could, actually…”

  She started laughing. “I think that’s illegal except in Vegas.”

  “I could always move,” he offered.

  She tossed a breadstick at him. He caught it, dipped it in marinara sauce, and took a bite.

  “Part of me wanted to find out just how good I really was. At racing,” he clarified. “You can’t do that beating other locals. You have to go pro, if you can. I think it’s something I had to do, had to know. Otherwise it would’ve eaten away at me all the time.”

  “And you’ve found out how good you are. I know you’ve won big races, even though I wasn’t following your career.”

  “Yeah. I have my answer.”

  “And is it enough? It sounds like maybe you don’t enjoy it as much?”

  He spread his hands. “I don’t know. For a while there I thought it was great, and racking up wins was cool, for sure, but in the last year or so, I found that doesn’t get me as excited anymore.” He paused, remembering his accident. “I have to admit that a few tumbles I’ve taken have made me think twice, and a few guys have been killed, too. It sometimes does make you wonder what’s the point?”
r />   “Maybe you should cash in your chips, as they say, and find another thing to make you that happy. You know, before your luck runs out.”

  He looked her in the eyes and didn’t say the cheesy line about her being that thing, mostly because of how that would sound—insincere—when he’d mean it. His gaze said it anyway.

  After dinner, they strolled along Baltimore’s Inner Harbor a few blocks away, enjoying the warm spring air. Tall buildings surrounded them and a Baltimore Orioles baseball game was underway in Camden Yards ahead, the bright lights shining into the dark sky. Scores of people walked along, too, though few were arm in arm like them, and Tristan began to enjoy the jealous stares. The idea of ravishing her in front of them made his cock bulge. Before long he was so horny that he ushered her back to the car and set a land-speed record getting back to her house. After both freshened up just a bit, he grabbed a blanket and took her hand, leading her back outside to the field behind the house.

  “Oh, yeah?” she asked with a twinkle. “Are you planning to have me out here or were you just going to be sweet and loving?”

  He kissed her hand like gentlemen did in the old days. “We’ll get naked and show the wildlife how it’s really done.”

  “Just how wild were you planning to get?” Her nipples hardened faster than ever before.

  He grinned. “Do you think your neighbors will hear?”

  She glanced at the houses to either side. In her rural neighborhood, other residences weren’t that close, and a line of trees separated the yards, but if the way Tristan made her scream lately was any indication, the neighbors would come running to see the show.

  “I’m not sure I can keep quiet, sweetie. Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” Despite those words, she felt her pussy throb with need.

  “Let’s give it a try. The worst that can happen is we run naked for the house.”

  She giggled. “You’re so naughty.”

  “And you love it.” He slipped his hands under the sweater and lifted it over her head, revealing the lace negligee with holes cut out for her nipples.

  “Yes I do. And so am I.” With that, she grabbed his belt buckle, undid it and the button on his jeans, pulled down the zipper, and then slid his pants and underwear to his knees while getting down on hers. Her warm lips engulfed his half-hard cock, a wet, smooth tongue undulating on the underside. He moaned. As she began to suck and he swelled in her mouth, she glanced toward the neighbors’ houses, seeing no one, both relieved and disappointed. The idea of someone watching them made her whole body bristle with excitement, her pussy dripping with juices and her nipples aching. One hand sought his balls, tickling him between the legs while her other hand squeezed his firm ass.

 

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