Love and Trust

by Jean Oram

  But the Rubicore team didn’t realize that Tristen was planning to add their blood to the battle this time. And a battle it would be, because helping Melanie he finally understood that his failed marriage hadn’t been entirely his fault. While he still didn’t know if he could control the monster, he knew his wife could have told him sooner that she didn’t want gifts. Melanie had returned the antiques money; why couldn’t his wife have done the same, if it wasn’t what she needed or wanted? Cindy could have asked him to take a different job, or asked for help, as Melanie had. The truth was Tristen and his ex could have done a lot of things differently. Separately and together. But he hadn’t ruined her life all on his own. She’d been half of that marriage, too.

  But now he had another chance. Melanie saw him, understood him and was strong enough to push back if she needed to.

  Tristen Bell wasn’t as broken as he’d thought.

  “It’s time to blow everything out of the water,” he said, taking in the bags under Melanie’s eyes. He held her hands in his, hoping she’d pull from him the strength she needed, and that he would be able to provide whatever it was she required in order to carry on.

  He knew he’d been misguided, thinking money, power, and prestige were everything. But no, with Melanie, he could be on the right side and, for once, do some good things in this world. She was his chance to make things right.

  No more hiding out. He was ready.

  “I’ve suited up, Melanie. I’m all in. If this fight matters to you, it matters to me. I should never have chickened out and left you to do this on your own.”

  She laughed, sounding slightly teary, and leaned hard against his chest. Holding her, he felt as though the things he could do for this strong woman would never be enough.

  But he’d do his best because she was what mattered.

  “We’re going to tackle Rubicore from a united front. I have your back.” He placed a light kiss in her curls and she tipped her head up, bleary eyes searching for an answer he hoped she found.

  “Really?”

  “I’m not backing out this time. I’ve already called some folks in Toronto to do some investigating. It’s going to get ugly, I won’t deny that. But we’ll be careful so they can’t pin things on you. I don’t want this situation with the bogus slander claim to get worse. I need you to go apply for heritage status, so you can save Trixie Hollow from the mice and the taxman. Rile up Rubicore by mentioning their place in Heritage Row, too.”

  She gave him a doubtful glance.

  “Do it. They can’t touch your license for that. Next, we’ll file formal complaints against Rubicore and the municipality. The way they are pushing this resort through is not right. We’ll get an unbiased, secondary party to do impact studies—I’ve already got the process started on that and have paid to have it expedited. As well, we need to get people stirred up people about the parking lot and the camp. I’ve got a few people working on that as well.”

  “There’s no time,” Melanie sighed. “Everything’s already so far along.”

  “I’ve asked a friend to look into the slander claim. He says there is a good chance he could have you back in the office by next week.”

  “You’re joking?”

  “You may have a case for loss of income, as well as them tarnishing your reputation.”

  She gave a small laugh. “Sometimes we live in a ridiculous world, don’t we?”

  “We’ll get Rubicore, Melanie. We will.”

  She sagged back onto her stool, taking a sip of her drink. “There’s not enough money or time to fight them the way we need to, Tristen.”

  “I have so much money to pour into this it’s disgusting. So much that Rubicore won’t know what hit them.”

  “Tristen you can’t.”

  “I can and I will. This is important.”

  She gave him a look and he said, “It’s my money.” He topped up her glass, even though she’d barely taken more than a few sips. “And once we get these proceedings shoved through, the municipality can’t approve more permits until it’s resolved. We’ll stall Rubicore and hit them where it hurts the most—”

  “Their bottom line. How are you going to get proceedings through in time to stop anything?”

  He smiled knowingly.

  “They’re going to be so pissed,” Melanie said.

  “Are you ready for me to rock your world?”

  “You already have.” She blushed, then stood on the lower spindles of the stool, hands on his shoulders as she gave him a light kiss, before sitting again.

  Tristen blinked, his mind leaving the task at hand. He forced himself to take a seat on the other side of the island, away from Melanie and her tempting lips. He really wanted to take that kiss somewhere else right now, but he still had more to tell her, and if she kissed him again he’d have her in his bed in less than a second flat, their battle plans forgotten.

  He focused once more, but found himself unable to sit. “On a more personal note, I sweet-talked a lady named Betsy into bumping up your claim for tax reassessment. Not only did she do that, she also gave consideration to making your reassessment retroactive.”

  “Get out of town!” Melanie launched herself around the granite island and into his arms. He held her tightly, inhaling her coconut scent. After a second, she went to pull away, but he tightened his grip, not wanting to let her go, fearing that since he’d started to allow his had-to-win-at-all-costs side out, he might not have the chance to hold her again. Cindy hadn’t like that side of him; what were the chances a gentle, sweet woman like Melanie would?

  She laughed and placed her hands between them. “Okay, you can let go now.”

  He rested his head in the crook of her neck, inhaled once more and slowly complied with her request.

  A blush tinged her cheeks as she seated herself again and he could see that she was having a tough time focusing, too. “How did you manage to get Betsy to consider that? I’ve talked to her three times.”

  “I need a shower after all that schmoozing.” He used to put on the charm almost daily to smooth the wheels of progress, and hadn’t thought twice about it. But now it made him feel dirty, manipulative, and exhausted. And yet he’d done it. And he’d do it again for a woman like Melanie. He’d seen her tax bill for that old cottage and it was horrendous. “I should probably mention,” he said, moving to the open living room, “she didn’t just give you consideration. She had your taxes reduced and gave you one year retroactive at the new rate.”

  He fell backward onto the couch as Melanie leaped at him, peppering him with kisses. Max, waking up from his spot on the cool stone apron surrounding the fireplace, jumped up, barking.

  “Shush, Max,” Tristen said with a laugh, trying to shove the dog’s massive snout out from between him and Melanie.

  “Thank you, thank you,” she said between kisses. “You don’t know how much this means to me!”

  He held her tight, kissing her with everything he had so she’d know just how much she mattered to him. His hands ran down past her waist, giving her backside a squeeze.

  “What’s Max so—” Dot began, entering the room. “Oh,” she said with mild disgust. “Never mind.”

  Melanie jumped off Tristen, leaving him feeling strangely bereft, and ran over to lift Dot in a massive hug. “Your dad is so awesome!” She dropped the teen back on her feet and raced to the front door, flinging it open wide so she could holler to the chickadees and squirrels, “So totally awesome!”

  She returned to the room, grinning, her excitement pulling a smile from Dot.

  “I can’t wait to tell my sisters. They’ll be so pumped.”

  “Is this about Rubicore?” Dot asked.

  “He’s saving me money on taxes.”

  “Wait, there’s more,” Tristen said.

  “Not more ugly teacups,” Dot grumbled as she slouched back to her room, likely to commiserate with her teenage friends about the instability of adults.

  “I talked to the camp director and h
e says he’ll stay on board even if we have to start fresh somewhere else,” Tristen said.

  “He shouldn’t have to move.”

  “I know.”

  “But I guess an open camp can still help kids, no matter where it’s located, right?” Melanie’s smile was weak, her eyes lost in the past.

  “What is it about you and this camp, anyway?” He pulled her close and tucked a curl behind her ear. He felt strongly about a few of the charities he’d supported over the years, but it was nothing personal like the camp was for Melanie. She acted as though it was a part of her.

  “I went there. As a camper and as a counselor. I fund-raise for them.” There was a steely glint in her eyes.

  “I can’t see you as a troubled kid.”

  “I’d experienced trauma.” She sat on the couch, eyes blank. “My dad died in an accident. I took it the hardest out of all us girls. Mom sent me to Adaker because I wouldn’t stop crying.” Melanie gave Tristen a sheepish smile that faltered. “Puberty, you know how it is. But that camp showed me that I still had a lot, and that there were kids much worse off than I was. They help so many children. I can’t bear the idea of it not being able to do that any longer.”

  “We can still help kids.”

  “If the camp closes, that’s it.”

  “There is funding for the camp no matter where it ends up.”

  “But Rubicore won’t pay to build a new camp somewhere else.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve taken care of that, too.”

  Her jaw dropped open.

  “I’ve agreed to be a private donor.”

  She landed on him again, but this time he was ready. He grabbed her as her legs wrapped around his waist, and pivoted so her body was pinned between him and the wall. When her lips met his, he leaned into her, deepening the kiss until her body slowly melted.

  As he kissed her, he wished he could find a way to tell her that he didn’t want her to run away when this was all over.

  “You’re amazing,” she whispered, and in that moment he felt like the hero he’d always dreamed of being by taking control of things for others. It didn’t mean Melanie was any less strong, only that he could be there to remove barriers that stood in her way.

  With one hand against her soft cheek, he pulled back so he could look her in the eye. “You’re the most beautiful, strongest thing I’ve ever seen. You know that?”

  Her legs loosened around his hips and her feet slid to the floor. She started to push him away, but he blocked her.

  “What? You don’t want me to help?” Damn. He’d been so sure he’d gotten it right this time.

  “It’s not that. Let’s just…let’s not complicate things, okay?”

  “There’s nothing complicated here.” He kissed her again, pulling her close. She softened into his embrace, and he lost himself in the feel of her skin, her mouth, the moist warmth of her tongue.

  She angled her mouth away, panting slightly. “Tristen?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I can’t do one-nighters. I just…” She looked at him, her eyes full of pain and a deep affection that surprised him so fully he dropped his arms, stepping away.

  He watched her walk back to the island, take a sip of her lemonade with a trembling hand, then say, “Let’s just get back to killing Rubicore, okay?”

  Without thinking, he joined her, his mind on everything but Rubicore.

  * * *

  “What the hell kind of tricks do you think you’re trying to pull?” Aaron Bloomwood backed Melanie down a side street, away from the commotion of the protest she and Daphne were leading with Tristen in front of the municipal office, over the parking lot issue. One last protest and then it was nothing but hard-core business. Tristen had been up half the night, setting things in place for the upcoming battle. He’d called in favors, talking to people she’d only heard about in the news. Their net was ready and about to fall down on Rubicore.

  Spittle flew from Aaron’s mouth as he jabbed the air around her, making her wonder if he’d caught wind of their plans. “First that goddamn whiney-nosed camp for losers, and now this stupid museum and island that nobody cares about!”

  She kept backing up, staying out of range.

  “Aaron, so lovely to see you,” Tristen said casually, appearing beside her and she stepped into his shadow, relieved to not be alone. “The horns never did recede, did they?” He reached out and patted Aaron’s head, studying the man with a curiosity that would have made Melanie laugh if she hadn’t been so worried about the reaction he was about to earn. Not only was Tristen taunting the raging bull, he was ballsy enough to touch it.

  The man focused on Tristen. “Are you behind this?” Aaron pitched forward, hands squeezed into white-knuckled fists.

  Tristen smiled an innocent, infuriating grin. “Oh, Aaron.”

  The patronizing tone hit its mark, sparking the executive’s temper as though Tristen was a torero, prepping the bull for the matador with another well-timed spear. Was Melanie supposed to be the matador? She hoped not. She wanted to run far away, not escalate this battle.

  “Do you have any idea what this two-bit lawyer is doing? The mess she is causing?”

  “Oh, has she caused a problem?” Tristen asked casually. There was a steely glint in his eyes that Melanie hadn’t seen before.

  “She just got our renovations for Heritage Row shut down.”

  “I did?” Melanie grinned at Tristen, who gave her a small head tilt as if to say, Keep a lid on it, woman.

  “You are never going to practice law again.” Aaron was on her once more, but Tristen wedged his shoulder between them.

  “No.” He shoved a finger so hard into the man’s chest, Melanie was surprised it didn’t draw blood. “Now you listen to me, you jackass.” His voice was low, a primal warning that sent chills up her spine. “This woman is off-limits. You say nothing to her. You don’t touch her. Threaten her. Sabotage her or her reputation in any way. You understand? If anything bigger than a sliver happens in her life, I am holding you personally responsible. Do you understand what that means?”

  Tristen was forcing Aaron to back away. The developer had a look in his eyes Melanie hadn’t thought possible: fear.

  “You’re a nobody now,” he retorted. “You carry no clout. The whole world has forgotten about you and the way you ran scared from Toronto.”

  “Well, then I suppose it is a good thing that a tip from a nobody can still set up an investigation for corruption, wouldn’t you say?”

  The way Tristen rocked back on his heels, so cool and relaxed, made Melanie’s heart pulse madly. He had their quarry right where he wanted him, and was playing it all so easily and with such confidence it made her want to jump on Tristen and kiss him so hard he forgot his name.

  “You don’t scare me.” Aaron’s voice trembled with rage.

  “I know where you live, I know where all your partners live, Aaron James Bloomwood. I know how you play your games. Shall I set up a watchdog committee? Oh, wait. I already did that. Have fun answering to them.”

  Chills raced down Melanie’s spine again. Tristen was so…this other side to him… It was hot.

  “You lie,” Aaron spit.

  “So sorry to spoil the surprise for you. Oh, and the municipality? We’re pretty sure you have someone you’re paying under the table to push things through. I’ve got people looking into that, as well.”

  “You’ll pay for this, Bell. You’ll pay!” Aaron backed away, his finger raised in warning.

  “Don’t worry. I already have. Several times over.”

  Aaron stormed around the corner and Melanie worried he was going to come back with Mario and others carrying weapons. She shivered and tugged Tristen in the opposite direction.

  He stopped her, his hands bracing her shoulders. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He looked worried.

  “Yeah, fine.” Her voice was as shaky as her legs.

  “Liar.” He drew her around the building and back into the c
rowd, where the protest against Rubicore continued.

  She sagged against him in the safety of the gathering.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.” Tristen kept his attention on everything but her, as though he was afraid to face her.

  “I’m not.”

  He gave a sad sigh, shoulders drooping. “This stuff doesn’t bring out the best in me, Melanie. I get lost in it. I want blood when I fight someone like Rubicore.”

  “Well, I’ve never seen a man act sexier. Thank you.” She pushed her hands up his firm, wide chest and smiled, leaning into him, hoping he’d kiss her. “My hero.”

  He seemed stunned and took a half step back, then struggled to recover his balance. “I’m sorry, did you just say that monstrous scene was sexy?”

  “Very.” She drew a finger down his jaw, incredibly turned on. “I like how you stuck to your guns and stood up to him. He’s a big bully. And in case you didn’t notice, I’m a lawyer. We’re always out for blood.” Melanie pushed her chest into Tristen’s, trying to get closer, hoping he’d see how much he’d aroused her. “I happen to think a man coming to my rescue is unbearably sexy and I feel safe around you, Tristen Bell.”

  His arms finally wrapped around her, so tight her breath left her lungs. His kiss was so deep and full of need her knees buckled, forcing his broad shoulders and strong arms to get to work and hold her up. Yet another reason to love the man.

  Tristen cared about her. It wasn’t just his gestures that said it, such as when he hurried ahead to get the door for her, but the bounce in his step that couldn’t be faked when he came up to her. He was a man of gestures, and he’d just shown her that she was his. His. His. His.

  They broke apart and Melanie simply stared into his eyes, wanting him to know that she liked him, too. That she wanted him. Just him.

  No pressure for “I love you” or a big commitment. She just wanted to be with him and receive whatever he could give.

  Dot materialized out of the crowd beside them, Tigger in tow. “That was so awesome, Daphne!” the teen exclaimed, when Melanie’s sister appeared as well. “Did you see those Environment Canada guys totally scouting you out?”