She gave him a sorrowful look. “I’m sorry. Am I being really neurotic or something?”
“No. Well, a little.”
“Come here.” She reached out for him and made a squeezing motion with both hands, so Tristan joined her on the bed, stripping off his clothes on the way. She pulled off the shirt so they’d be without boundaries between them. They got into spoon position and nuzzled quietly for a while, talking of finding a way to make things work and assuring the other that’s what they wanted.
Tristan turned her face up and brushed his lips across Victoria’s. “Can you forgive me for leaving? I feel like you haven’t and I want you to. For both of us. It’s something to get past.”
She didn’t answer at first, settling for stroking his cheek. Then she let out a long breath. “Yes, I forgive you. I think you’re right. I’ve been sort of holding a grudge a bit, and not realizing it.”
“I want you back. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Even if that means quitting racing?”
He thought for a moment, searching his heart. “Yes, if that’s what it takes.”
Victoria’s heart pounded and she leaned against him, discovering that his cock stood at attention. He pressed into her. Teasing him, she said, “You know, you can’t solve every problem with your penis.”
He grinned. “Well, you never know until you try.”
She laughed, her guard dropping further. “Are you sure the call of the road and all of that won’t get to you?”
“The only call I hear is the one to be by your side every day and night.”
She blushed despite the cheesy sentiment, mostly because she could tell he meant it. “What will you do if not race?”
He shrugged. “My family could always use help, I’m sure, and I want to stay in Comus with them, too. No more running around looking elsewhere for something to make me happy. Everything I want is right here. With you.”
That almost convinced her, but not quite. “You won’t miss races? Winning? The money? The adrenaline rush? Attention? The fans?”
“No. Winning your heart again and forever is the only achievement that matters, the only attention I need. And no money could possibly compete with the treasure of you. You’re the only victory lane I need.”
She kissed him tenderly. “I love you, Tristan.”
He grinned from ear to ear, a rush of adrenaline making his heart pound so that he felt faint, his lips eagerly seeking hers. “I love you, too,” he murmured.
Then Tristan Kendall slid into Victoria Lane and was fairly certain he heard cheering.
Chapter 13 – No More Secrets
As the morning sun crept over him in the cool spring air, Tristan stood outside CMS beside the bright yellow Goldwing, discreetly checking out the parking lot. Victoria stood chatting with the half-dozen other riders on the mountain tour. All but one was a guy, most of them in their forties. Only a young guy rode a sport bike, everyone else having a touring one smaller than the behemoth Tristan and Victoria would be on. She wore her hair in a ponytail, the tight leathers showing off her exquisite body, and the heeled boots accentuating her ‘vixen’ appearance.
Larry stood beside Victoria, trying to discreetly flirt with her while casting nervous glances at Tristan, who felt more amused than threatened and had some fun throwing slightly unfriendly glances at the salesman. Larry was coming on the trip, too, but no other employees from CMS except the owner, Rick, who’d lead them.
Tristan took a swig from a water bottle and then put it in the cup holder, a nice feature that only the big touring motorcycles had. Rick’s blue Goldwing was parked next to his rented bike. Tristan had only seen him for a moment this morning before he’d disappeared into the service bay. Tristan was dying for an excuse to follow. The idea that his stolen bike might be within shouting distance nagged at him, but he’d have to let it go. He knew Riley was watching even now.
As Tristan finished preparations, Rick strode out from the service bay in a black full-body jumpsuit. He carried two cloth bags in his hands, each one containing something bulky, irregularly shaped, and apparently a bit heavy from the way they pulled the bags taut. Rick made eye contact as he approached.
“Need help?” Tristan asked, indicating the bags.
“Yeah, if you can lift the trunk there.”
Tristan lifted the blue Goldwing’s rear trunk and Rick placed the bags inside, closing it.
“That doesn’t look like the wine bottle I brought,” Tristan remarked conversationally.
Rick smiled. “Nothing so fun. I should grab a bottle from the bar inside. You know your family is one of my suppliers?”
“Yeah, someone told me. I guess I can consider you part of the Kendall family.”
“Sure!” Rick gave him a pat, which came across as a slick salesman trying to seem like he was a buyer’s buddy. That was just as well, for if Tristan could get Rick’s guard down, the man might tell him something useful.
“You might want to secure what you put in there so it doesn’t move around,” Tristan observed.
Rick lifted the trunk lid and remarked, “Yeah, wouldn’t be good for parts to move and shift the center of balance.”
Trying to discreetly pry, Tristan jokingly asked, “Spare parts? Expecting to break down?”
Rick smiled. “No, got a few customers down that way that need them.”
“Isn’t it easier to just mail them? Saves room for wine, at least.”
“Probably but that can take longer. For lots of stuff we just send a guy on a bike. It’s an excuse for a ride.”
It’s also mail fraud and a federal crime, if the parts were stolen and you cross state lines, thought Tristan. “Doesn’t driving them in person cost more, especially if it’s overnight? Room and board, gas.”
Rick grinned. “Now you know why I said rushing parts costs extra.”
Tristan nodded as if he agreed. “How often do your guys make trips?”
“Whenever someone really wants a part quick and we’ve got it. We’re like the Crotch Rocket Express instead of Pony Express.”
“Clever name. You should market that.”
Rick chuckled and excused himself.
Tristan wondered if he should give it a rest. He hadn’t learned much and it sounded innocent enough. Maybe Victoria was right. Still, now that he was thinking of staying in Comus, he needed to find another way to make a living and CMS seemed like a good bet. At the least, he could lead these tours, though it didn’t sound like they needed the help. One thing was certain—if anything illegal was going on here, he wanted no part of it, if for no other reason than having his cousin show up to arrest him for it.
Before long, everyone mounted and started their bikes, lining up to leave CMS in one group. It reminded Tristan of racing. Not for the first time, he longed for the track and wondered if the old racing circuit at Capital Raceway was still around. Maybe he could stop by for a run to satisfy his need for speed. For now, he’d settle for a leisurely ride with his love on the back seat, where Victoria now sat, rubbing his shoulders affectionately. Tristan smiled to himself. Maybe later she could rub something else for him…
They left CMS and reached the interstate a few minutes later. The trip down I-270 in the far-left HOV lane kept them out of harm’s way from the notoriously awful drivers. The interstate soon deposited them onto the I-495 Beltway surrounding the nation’s capital. Weekend traffic was actually worse than rush hour, as shoppers and those out for recreation like CMS’s group crowded the perpetually busy roads. Fortunately, the tour group was headed onto a quieter stretch that crossed the American Legion Bridge into Virginia. From there, they took the brand-new toll lanes several more miles, passing the busy shopping area of Tyson’s Corner and the high-rises nearby. Then they exited onto Route 66 West, where another HOV lane kept them together into the Blue Ridge Mountains. Most other drivers recognized that they were together and didn’t try to cut in between. Other times, stray bikers joined them for a bit.
The mou
ntains began looming in the distance. Though they were only three to four thousand feet tall, they elicited romantic feelings in most locals who saw them, as there wasn’t anything taller until the Rockies. It had been a while since Tristan had been here and the mountains reminded him of Sugarloaf Mountain back home.
The group passed through the small town of Front Royal to gas up at the last station before a left turn brought them to the entrance to Shenandoah National Park. Each rider paid the ten dollar entrance fee per motorcycle and began the slow climb up into beauty. The ride along picturesque Skyline Drive toward North Carolina stirred romantic feelings in both Tristan and Victoria. Tall trees stood on sheer mountain slopes, close enough to the road for most of the way that they reduced visibility. The serpentine road curved relentlessly, climbing several minutes before falling again, repeatedly over the mountains. The ride dragged, as cars and sometimes trailers struggled up the steep inclines and around sharp curves, forcing everyone behind them to slow, too. All of the seventy-five overlooks offered small parking lots, benches or picnic tables. People could stare down at the valley below, where widely spaced houses dotted the farming landscape and roads that were straighter than the one they were on crisscrossed green fields.
Into the headset microphone, Tristan said to Victoria, “I wish they’d close this for a race.”
“You don’t get enough of that?” she asked, squeezing his shoulders.
“This is different because it’s up and down, not just side to side. All race tracks are basically flat.”
“You like mounds, huh?” she teased, pressing her breasts into his back.
He laughed. “You’re gonna get us both killed.” When she didn’t reply, he added, “Sorry. That wasn’t a good thing to say.”
“It’s okay. I know you were kidding.”
“Yeah but it’s a sensitive subject. You know, you never did talk to me about your father’s accident.”
She gave him a pat. “It was always so painful I didn’t know how to talk about it. And my mother refused. I sort of dealt with it alone.”
“Wow. I’m sorry, babe. I had no idea. She didn’t talk to you?”
“No. I think she was too hurt. She almost froze me out, not because she meant to, but because it was so painful for her that she couldn’t help me deal with my grief. I sort of resented her for that for a long time. I lost my father forever and, in a way, my mother for years. Our relationship was never really the same. It was okay later, just not great. Not like it had been.”
He wasn’t sure what to say about that, since his siblings had been invaluable when first one and then the other of his parents passed away. “What happened with your father’s accident? You don’t have to tell me but I’d like to understand.”
The microphone picked up her sigh. “Well, he didn’t make a mistake. Someone ran a red light.”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry, honey.”
She didn’t respond other than to squeeze both of his shoulders. There wasn’t much else to say about it.
Thinking of riding issues, he said, “There are ways to protect yourself while riding, though someone blowing through a red light is hard to do anything about. I know you took the safety courses, but there are a few things I don’t think they really mention.”
“Like what?”
“For one, never pass someone on the shoulder.”
“Why not?”
“The loose dirt and gravel on the shoulder can cause a rider to wipe out. Dangerous if there’s a guardrail right there. Those are designed to keep cars from going off the road but become a problem for a rider hitting one.”
“I never thought of that.”
“That’s what worries me. I always read about accidents involving bikers because other people’s mistakes tell you what not to do.”
“That’s a good point. I’ve always avoided reading about them because, well, it bothered me.”
“I understand. I always cringe hearing what happened to someone, but there’s a lot to learn from someone else’s mistakes.”
The drive down Skyline Drive could be done in just a few hours, but the group was taking its time. They’d planned an early lunch, but improvised the choice of an overlook because of traffic and crowds. Riders had brought their own refreshments. From the Goldwing, Tristan took a blanket and a backpack full of the goodies he’d asked Connor to prepare: pepperjack cheese, provolone, Jarlsberg, gorgonzola spread, several kinds of crackers, grapes, bananas, strawberries, shrimp, a package of caramel, another of honey, and a few croissant sandwiches with ham, roast beef, lettuce, tomato, and American cheese. The peaches and strawberries bobbing around in it made a jug of sangria, courtesy of Quinn, look like fruit punch to others; alcohol wasn’t allowed in Shenandoah National Park, but he’d never been one for obeying rules.
Tristan led Victoria to the best spot he could find and laid a blanket on the grass, taking off his riding jacket to use as a pillow. They fed each other and took the time to suggestively lick and even suck each other’s fingers. Then they lay back and stared up at the blue sky, fingers intertwined while talking of simple pleasures, like hobbies they’d picked up since separating. Victoria had learned to cook, while Tristan had taken up golf to counter the high-octane stress of racing and competition.
“You and Chloe seemed to hit it off again, just like old times,” he murmured in her ear. “I’m surprised you two didn’t hang out after you came back to Comus.” Even as he said it, he realized Victoria might’ve been avoiding his whole family because of him.
“Well, you know, reminders of you and all.”
Tristan nodded. “What did you guys talk about yesterday?”
She pursed her lips, thinking this really wasn’t the place. “Girl stuff.”
He realized that’s what she said then, too. Sensing her mood shift for the worse, Tristan felt sudden suspicion and wondered if Chloe had opened her big mouth again, in which case Victoria knew that he knew about the baby and hadn’t said anything. Keeping secrets was hardly a recipe for a good relationship, and hiding things from each other had never been their way. Tristan sighed and hoped what he had to say went well. He gave her a kiss on the temple first.
“I know this isn’t the best time to talk about this,” he began, “but I have a feeling we’re starting to keep secrets from each other and I don’t want that. So, the other night, Chloe let it slip to me that you’d been to the clinic a few months after we broke up.” He felt Victoria grow tense in his arms and knew that this much was true, at least. “That’s why I went to your house that night, to hear the truth. Then other things happened and I’ve been unsure when to broach the subject. Anyway, she thought it had something to do with a pregnancy ending.”
She let out a long breath and turned to face him. She opened her mouth and then decided to kiss him long and deep first. Then she pulled back.
“You’re right,” she admitted. “Yesterday she told me about your conversation with her and your suspicions. After that, I wondered why you hadn’t said anything, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up and figured that’s why you kept quiet. You weren’t sure either.”
“Yeah. Funny how we both wanted to clear the air and didn’t know how to start.”
She gave him a loving look then and kissed him. “Thank you for doing it.”
“So what happened?”
She hesitated a moment, having kept this to herself until yesterday. It wasn’t easy to just confess after all this time.
“I had a miscarriage. Only my mother knew. It was right there in the house, in my old room.”
Relief that it hadn’t been an abortion washed over him, along with regret that the baby had never been meant to be. “That’s why you left town?”
“Yes, and because of memories of you around Comus.”
He didn’t like hearing that but it made sense. “I have to ask—did you know you were pregnant when I saw you last?” The way she looked away answered him.
“I was going to tell you that morning, the day
you broke up with me.”
He tensed. “But I broke up before you could?”
She nodded.
“Wow.” He took her hands in his and caressed the fingers for a while, both of them quietly thinking of things that could’ve happened between them. None of those possible futures really mattered now, having gone long ago, but he had to know something. “After the miscarriage, were you ever going to tell me you’d been pregnant?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I wasn’t sure we’d ever see each other again. And how do you bring up something like that? And why?”
He didn’t have an answer for that. “Why didn’t you tell me that morning? You still could’ve told me after I broke up with you.”
She sighed. “I was a little too shocked, to be honest. I didn’t see the breakup coming. There I was with news I thought was wonderful, and I was so looking forward to telling you, and then you went in the exact opposite direction. The news died on my lips. After that morning I didn’t know what to do. I kept thinking I needed to tell you, but I also kept thinking I didn’t want to trap you into a relationship you wanted out of, using a kid to do it. I know you would’ve stayed for her, and then probably resented me, and maybe her, for giving up your career.”
His heart soared at the thought of having a little girl and then broke into a million pieces at the loss. “She was a girl?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes dark with shadows as he imagined a little Victoria running around. “I wouldn’t have resented you, or her. You have to know that.”
She shook her head. “There’s no way either of us could know that. It doesn’t matter now.”
He was about to argue because it was important to him that she understood his character, but he let that go because she was right: it didn’t really matter now because it couldn’t be undone and there was no use worrying about it. Instead, he said, “You were planning to have the baby. Were you going to tell me at some point?”
“Of course. It’s not like I would have kept you from your daughter.”
Tristan (The Kendall Family #1) Page 11
