by Katy Ames
Tessa grinned. “Morning.”
The cabin was bright, the evidence of their night even more apparent in the light of day. A bruise was spreading across one of Tristan’s cheeks and the knuckles of both hands were scraped red. Tessa glanced down and blushed when she saw his knees were the same way, but for a completely different reason. Her blush spread when she sensed that hers were the same.
“I love you like that.”
Tessa met Tristan’s amused gaze. “Like what?”
“Blushing. Thinking about us. And what we did.”
Tessa dropped a giggle to Tristan’s shoulder, his body’s recollection of the previous night pressing insistently against her stomach. Which was definitely tempting. But there were things they couldn’t put off any longer, ninety-nine percent of which couldn’t be addressed while they were naked on the floor.
“Stop trying to flirt and let me up.”
It was Tristan’s turn to pat her ass, his grin spreading as Tessa squirmed against him. “There was no trying, sweet. I can see the blush all the way down to your stunning tits. Pretty sure that means I succeeded.”
Tessa pushed up on Tristan’s chest, settling back till her legs were spread across his groin and his morning erection was cradled by her still-stinging ass. She rocked once, smirking when he swallowed hard.
“Careful. Despite your recent improvements, you still have a ways to go with this whole ‘being personable’ thing. Not antagonizing a woman when you’re in a compromising position is obviously a lesson you haven’t learned yet.”
Tristan smiled. It was the full, crazy-bright one that sent Tessa’s heart into never-ending somersaults. And distracted her so fully she barely registered his movement until she found herself on her back, on the floor, Tristan above her.
“You’re right, Tess.” He sucked one nipple, sweet and fast, grinning wider when she cursed beneath her breath. “I’m still learning how to be personable, as you put it. But give credit where credit’s due, huh? I definitely know how to turn a compromising position to my advantage.” He nudged her legs wider with his knees, his breath leaving a trail down her abdomen. “Especially where you’re concerned.” His tongue flicked her belly button before wandering lower. “My sweet, sweet Tess.”
Tessa stopped fighting, letting Tristan lick her to oblivion, before he slowly rocked them to a finger-numbing orgasm right there on the floor.
By the time they finally got up Tessa had lost most of the feeling below her waist, her hair was a disaster, and her stomach was growling so loudly that even Tristan blushed.
“Don’t suppose you have any food in this hidey-hole of yours,” she grumbled.
“Nothing that’s going to satisfy that, no.”
“Ugg. Fine.” Tessa found her shoes where they’d thrown them the night before. “I don’t suppose you have a car here? I didn’t have a chance to turn off the truck before Max surprised me. I’m sure the battery is dead by now.”
Tristan’s face hardened instantly at Max’s name. Tessa found his hand and squeezed.
“Car. Yes,” he finally answered, leading her outside to a dark SUV that was parked behind the cabin.
Tessa barely registered her stomach’s next protest for food. She was too focused on Tristan’s grim expression. It wasn’t as deep as the one he’d practically lived in when they’d first met, but it was just as dark.
“Hey. You okay?”
He patted her knee but kept his eyes on the driveway, turning the direction Tessa pointed when they reached the road. “Yeah. Just, uh, processing.”
Tessa pulled his hand into her lap with both of hers. The weight of it on her legs was calming. Ever since finding him at the cabin, Tessa couldn’t stop touching Tristan. The more she felt him, the more she could convince herself he was there, they were together, that maybe everything really was okay.
“Tristan?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you believe me? What I said the morning you left? That I wasn’t working for your father—uh, I mean, that I wasn’t working for Max? Not intentionally?”
Tristan found the pulse at the base of one of her wrists and settled his thumb there. He glanced at her before focusing on the road. “I do, yes.” Tristan muttered something to himself before continuing, “I wish it had been different, Tess. I really do. All of it. I wish your dad never had anything to do with Max, that Dexter never got involved, that Jacob didn’t try to drag you down with him. But—”
Tessa squeezed his hand when he stopped, anxious when she saw the lines around his mouth tighten. “What?”
“Your dad, Tessa. Jacob. He’s not going to come out of this well. I can try to mitigate some of the fallout, if you want. But he’s in deep with Max, no getting around it. When Max goes down, it will only be a matter of time before his buddies do too.”
Tessa leaned against the headrest, closing her eyes. Her mom, Gran, Tamsin, Mark, Grace, their friend Jack. Her. Tristan. That was just the start of the list. She imagined the number of people who’d suffered because of decisions Max and her father had made stretched way longer than that.
She didn’t hate her dad. She didn’t even think Jacob was an inherently bad man. But there was no ignoring that he was a man who’d made bad decisions. Not just that. Tessa had a horrible suspicion, low in her gut, that somewhere along the line Jacob had realized he’d reached a turning point. That one day he’d looked down at a clearly marked line dividing the morally ambiguous from the clearly wrong and had barely paused before stepping over. Money was always an obvious answer, the easy explanation. The depthless paint one could use to gloss over an ugly decision, making it more palatable to everyone, including oneself.
But, for her dad, Tessa guessed it was worse than that. She had the dreadful feeling that he’d taken too many wrong turns, had made too many questionable compromises, and had decided that turning back would be too difficult. Tessa suspected that Jacob had decided that fixing the damage he’d caused would’ve been hard and messy and painful. And that salvaging his conscience and morality wasn’t worth the price of giving up everything he’d stood to gain with Max. So he hadn’t.
Jacob had decided to follow that line past the point of no return, and he’d tried to take Tessa and Gran with him.
“No,” she said, finally. Tristan’s thumb pressed a little harder. “No. Jacob needs to deal with the consequences of what he’s done, just like Max. He made bad decision after bad decision because he was greedy and proud. He doesn’t deserve redemption. I don’t want you trying to save him from himself, Tristan. He’s a grown man. It’s time for him to start acting like one instead of expecting people to clean up after him like a spoiled child.
“But—” Tessa trapped her lip between her teeth. “My mom. I’m not sure how much she knows. She wasn’t there when I met Dexter, and Dad never talked about her being involved. Do you know anything that suggests she was involved in any way?”
“You mean, other than living off the money that Jacob made through unscrupulous and possibly illegal means?” Tristan said it softly, but it didn’t sting any less.
“So, what, she’s collateral damage?”
“Shit, Tessa. I don’t know.” Tristan tried to pull his hand away, but Tessa held it tighter.
“I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair. None of this is your fault, Tristan. I know you’re trying to help. I just hate that—”
“That it might not all work out? That, despite our best efforts, someone might still get hurt? That not everything can end perfectly?”
“Yes. I hate that.”
Tristan twisted their hands, pulling one of hers to his lips. He kissed her palm. “Me too. But we’ll make sure your Gran is taken care of. She won’t suffer because of this, Tessa, promise. As for the rest, we’ll do what we can. Together, you and me. Mark and Grace and Jack. Once the board at Hurst goes through the findings of the annual audit, they’ll fire Max. There’s no doubt about it. Misappropriating company funds is just the start. He’ll be out, Tessa, in a matt
er of weeks, maybe less. And hopefully under indictment not long after. Mark, Jack and I have figured out a way to transition the company in the meantime.”
Tessa turned in her seat, a realization hitting her. “Are you going back? With Max out, are you going back to run Hurst?”
Tristan glanced at her before pulling the truck over to the side of the country road. Clouds of dust settled outside as they looked at each other. “The resort was always supposed to be an escape route, Tessa. A way for me to get out of the hell I was living in. Not where I ended up long term.”
Tessa stared out the windshield, the glare of the morning sun as good a reason for the prick in her eyes as the painful squeeze in her chest.
“Hey,” Tristan said, tugging her across the bucket seat and onto his lap. “I’m not finished. Let me finish.” He gazed at Tessa, his crystal-blue eyes as clear as she’d ever seen them. “I’m not going back to New York. Not yet. Not for some time, I hope.”
Tessa straightened, ignoring the bite of the steering wheel in her back. “You hope?”
Tristan bracketed his thumbs along her throat before glancing away. Tessa swore she saw color flare high on his cheekbones.
“Tristan?”
“There’s, uh— There’s something I haven’t told you.”
Tessa tried to shimmy off, but Tristan’s giant hands cupped her neck and kept her in his lap.
“You’re making me really nervous, Tristan. Spit it out.”
“You remember the night we made bread?”
Tessa laughed. “You mean the night we tried to make bread? Yeah, no chance I could ever forget.”
“Do you know why I stopped—” Tristan glanced down before looking back up at Tessa, pulling her a little closer. “Do you know why I left so fast?”
“No.”
Tristan’s thumbs fluttered beneath her jaw. “I wanted to kiss you so badly, Tess. I thought I was losing my mind, the need was so intense.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Because I don’t kiss women. I mean, I didn’t kiss women.”
Tessa gave her head a little shake, not understanding. “You don’t kiss women?”
Tristan chuckled and Tessa sank into him without thought.
“I know it sounds weird. But I didn’t. I haven’t, not since I was a kid. Not on the mouth. Not until you.”
“Tristan?” Tessa wrapped her hands around his palms where they were a solid weight at the base of her throat. He kept his eyes locked on hers, the color in his cheeks darkening.
“Fucking. It can be impersonal, you know? Physical. A means to an end. Tab A, slot B, that sorta shit. But kissing?” Tristan’s thumbs coasted over her mouth. “Breathing in another person, your lungs giving and taking the same air? Looking into someone’s eyes while tasting every feeling they have for you? And, God help you, if it’s the right person, feeling like they’re swallowing just a little bit of your soul? Kissing, Tess.” Tristan pressed the pads of his thumbs over her pursed lips. “It’s the gateway to everything I’ve run away from for years. The broken thread that would unravel it all. The beginning of every feeling I’ve tried not to have, the end of pretending I could live without them. I knew kissing you would drag me back to the surface, kicking and screaming the entire way, and I didn’t think I’d survive. I didn’t think I even wanted to try.
“So I bolted. Tried to avoid it, until my need to kiss you became so intense I swore I could taste you in my sleep. Sweet, with a little bite. Contrast.” He nipped her bottom lip.
“Balance.” Tessa smiled against his mouth.
“You surprised me, Tessa. Completely. I never dreamed anyone like you existed. Not for me. But once I found you, really, truly found you….” Tristan kissed the corner of her mouth before leaning their foreheads together. “The island was an escape. But it’s become my sanctuary because of you. I would like to go back to New York at some point, yes, but not without you. I want to be able to rebuild my family—what’s left of it—but only with you. Because you’re at the heart of that, Tess. You’re the heart of me.”
Tristan kissed her cheek softly. “So, to answer your question: no, I’m not going back. Not until you want to come with me. Ten months from now, ten years from now. Whenever it makes sense for both of us, got it? You got what you wanted, Tess. I’m not leaving. You’re never getting rid of me.”
Tessa blinked rapidly, the sweetest tears burning the back of her throat. “Not even if I force you to make bread again?”
Tristan’s smile was blinding. “Not even then. Though,” he rumbled, his thumb slipping between her lips, “we might get banned from the kitchen after that. The mess will be more than even Caleb can ignore.”
“Me?” Tessa playfully bit his thumb, sinking even further into his lap. “I can’t get banned from my own kitchen.”
“You will once Caleb realizes it’s an imprint of your bare ass—”
“Shut up.” Tessa kissed him deeply, leaving Tristan in no doubt of what her love for him tasted like.
* * *
“We were about to send out a search party.” Mark grinned from a table on the B&B’s back patio. Tristan and Tessa took two of the open seats just as Grace appeared with a tray full of food.
“Thank God.” Tessa barely let Grace put it on the table before she picked up a handful of bacon.
“Someone worked up an appetite,” her friend said with a gleeful smirk.
“The man is trying to starve me,” Tessa grumbled, two pieces already gone.
“Hey,” Tristan muttered, filling his own plate. “I wasn’t the one who insisted we—ow!” Tristan dropped his plate on the table and rubbed his shin.
Tessa glared at him before returning to her breakfast. “Ignore him. Doesn’t know what he’s saying. Side effect of being a recluse for so long.”
Tristan had her out of her seat and onto his lap before Tessa knew what was happening. He was tickling her so hard her arms went flailing. Grace had to rescue the coffee pot before the contents drenched Mark.
Grace laughed. “Aw, they’re so cute.”
“Sickening,” Mark mumbled at the same time, taking the pot from Grace and refilling his cup.
“Whatever, big bro,” Tristan chided, tucking Tessa beneath his chin. “Like you can talk.”
“I—” Mark stared at him, his cup frozen midway to his mouth. He set it down with a wobble. No one paid attention to the coffee spreading across the table. “Big bro?”
Tristan’s smile faded, but his eyes stayed bright. “Yeah. It sounds so much better than ‘coz,’ don’t you think?”
Mark shifted and Grace threaded her fingers into the back of his hair. His hands found her free one without looking. “I do. Yes.”
“Good. Me too.”
Tessa watched the two men exchange a look that held a wealth of meaning. It only lasted a few seconds but covered an entire conversation. When Tristan settled back in his chair, Tessa swore she could feel the contentment warming him from the inside out.
Tristan had found a brother, even though he’d lost a—
“Wait. What happened to Max?” Tessa interjected.
Tristan’s fingers flinched against her leg, but he made no move to touch the back of his neck.
“Dean took him back to the city,” Mark answered. “Handy guy, Dean. Explained to Max that he might find it difficult to leave the U.S. while he’s waiting for the feds to pick him up. Especially when he discovers he can’t access any of his accounts and all of his credit cards have been canceled. Even more so since his private jet is grounded and his passport will throw up red flags if he tries to fly commercial.” Mark’s laugh was nothing short of mercurial.
“Hmm, ‘handy’ isn’t really the word I’d use,” Grace muttered, dropping into a chair next to him.
“It’s really over?” Tessa asked.
“It’s hardly tidy and it will take a while to straighten out the mess he made,” Tristan said, locking eyes with Mark. “But, like I said, Mark, Jack and I came up with
a plan to help carry Hurst once Max is ousted. We already have someone ready to step in to take over. Someone the board can’t refuse.”
“Oh?” Tessa caught the glance Mark sent Grace. “Who?”
“Amelia. My mom,” Mark answered. “She’s a Hurst. She could’ve had the position before but declined. Or was kept out. She won’t go into the details. Either way, it’s hers now. She’ll be running the company for the foreseeable future.”
Tristan nodded at Mark before dropping a kiss to Tessa’s neck. His brother rolled his eyes but didn’t bother to hide his smile.
Grace scanned the trio over the rim of her coffee cup before settling back in her chair. “This is wonderfully cozy and everything, but, um, when do you think we can head back?”
“Ready to leave so soon, babe?”
“Not that I’m not happy to see Mom and Dad, but, yeah, I’m ready to go home, yes.”
“Shhhh! Don’t let your mother hear you say that. She doesn’t need another reason to lock me in Mrs. Jenkins’ room under the stairs.”
“What?!” Tessa choked on her coffee.
Grace slapped Mark’s bicep. “He’s being dramatic.”
“Am not. She almost did it this morning, right after showing me that tiny bed she suggested I sleep in tonight.” Mark glared at Grace. “I told you to stay quiet last night. Your parents are never going to let me sleep in the same room with you ever again.”
“If that’s the case, why would my mother even keep you here? Surely she’d want you far, far away from her darling impressionable daughter.”
Both Tristan and Tessa snorted at that. Grace huffed in their general direction.
Mark grinned. “Oh, babe. Where do you think you picked up all your skills? Your mom knows your weakness to a T. Exactly what she needs to do to keep you home a little longer.”
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“Keep me.”
“God,” Grace groaned, smacking Mark’s arm again before letting him pull her into a kiss.
Tessa looked away from the couple and found Tristan studying her face, that beloved smile on his lips. “What?”
