Just what? Tristan bit his lip, keeping the frustrated question to himself. This waiting business was damn hard. With a soft sigh, Jess shifted around on the bench until her head rested on one of his thighs. She lifted it almost immediately and a soft warmth covered his other thigh where she’d pulled her hair out from under her and draped it over his leg. She settled once more. ‘Oh, that’s much better’
She’d get no arguments from him on that score. Having flicked off the torch once more, Tristan hooked his arms along the top of the bench, rested his head back and stared up at the incredible display overhead. He’d known the names of the constellations once upon a time, but now, though he recognised a few of the clusters beyond the universally known Ursa Major and Minor – the saucepans as Iggy had called them when they were little – and Orion and his famous belt, the names of the others escaped him for the moment. They’d had a book when they were kids, perhaps he could dig it out and see if Jess wanted it for Elijah.
He was about to mention it when Jess spoke. ‘Do you remember New Year’s Eve?’
Was she kidding? The image of her laughing up at him as he twirled her on the dance floor had been permanently imprinted into his mind. ‘Hard to forget when you ran out on me, Cinderella.’
‘I did not!’ Her outraged little huff made him grin into the dark.
‘Hard for a chap to take it any other way when he declares his affections to a woman he’s adored for months and she vanishes into thin air.’
‘Adored,’ she scoffed, softly. ‘You do exaggerate.’
‘Adored,’ he countered, firmly. ‘From the moment you peered over the rims of those glasses of yours, I was hooked. And it wasn’t just that you were the prettiest thing I’d seen in a long time, you were hellishly smart to boot.’ A thought suddenly occurred to him. ‘What happened to your glasses, by the way, I never see you wearing them.’ More’s the pity. Sexy and smart was a deadly combination, and he’d always found her both.
‘My parents gifted me with laser corrective surgery for my birthday a couple of years ago.’ Her head shifted in his lap, and though he couldn’t see a thing in the pitch black, he got the impression she was staring up at him. ‘I didn’t leave the party just because of you, but you were part of the reason.’
The guilt over ruining her evening stung even after all this time. ‘I didn’t mean to overstep. I didn’t realise at the time you had a boyfriend.’
‘What? Oh, you mean, Steve? I wasn’t seeing him; we were just friends. I just didn’t know how to deal with you, or the likely consequences.’
Deal with him? He hadn’t pushed his luck. He’d declared his intention to kiss her, sure, but he hadn’t behaved in anyway inappropriately. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’
‘Come on, Tristan, you know what you were like back then. You had enough confidence for half a dozen men, and more than enough charm for twice that many. I was still living at home with my parents and could count the number of boyfriends I’d had on the fingers of one hand. Less than half the fingers on one hand to be exact. I had a crush on you, oh boy, did I have a crush on you, but I never had any expectation it would come to anything, so it was safe to fancy you, like having a book boyfriend.’
Now he was completely lost. ‘What’s a book boyfriend?’
‘Oh, you know, when you read a book and fall a little bit in love with the hero,’ she said, impatiently.’
‘Can’t say that’s ever happened to me. Though I will admit to having a thing for Emma Watson back in the day. I suppose you could count her turn as Hermione Granger as a book girlfriend, or a film girlfriend rather, as I never got around to reading the books.’
‘You fancied Hermione Granger?’ Her incredulous laughter filled the air.
‘Smart and sexy, it’s my Kryptonite.’ Reaching down, he stroked a hand through her long curls. ‘And don’t laugh at me; I bet you had a crush on Harry Potter.’
‘Never. It was Ron Weasley all the way for me.’ Her laughter faded. ‘Anyway, you have to admit it would never have worked between us back then. I was too young, too uncertain of myself as person. I’d have let you overtake me, bent to whatever you wanted because I didn’t know what I wanted for myself. You’d have soon grown bored of me.’
He liked to think better of himself than that, but he had to admit he’d been a cocky little bastard. ‘And what about now?’
‘Now … Well that’s the million-dollar question. Not whether or not I can handle you, but whether or not I want to.’
‘Christ.’ He barked a harsh laugh. ‘Am I that unappetising a prospect?’
‘No! Not at all, if anything you’re too damn tempting for your own good. I’ve hardly been able to concentrate on anything these past few weeks. None of my hesitancy now has anything to do with you, it’s about me.’ He felt her fingers touch his chest. ‘Things between Steve and I weren’t right for a long time, and I kind of switched off the parts of me that weren’t either focused on the kids or on work.’
Oh.
‘You’re very quiet.’
‘Sorry.’ He ran his fingers over her hair as he tried to figure out the right response. He didn’t want to be glib, to tell her it was fine, and it didn’t matter because it did. He wanted everything from Jess, including an intimate physical relationship. ‘I think you’re beautiful, Jess. I always have.’
‘But I’m not the same girl you fancied back then. My body’s different for one thing; having children does that.’
‘Is that what you’re worried about? That I won’t find you physically attractive because of a few imperfections? I’d hope you’d believe me worth more than that.’
‘I’m not talking about your reaction to my body, I’m talking about my own. I want to be able to come to you confident in myself, and I’m not there yet.’
Tristan wanted to reassure her, to tell her she had nothing to worry about as far as he was concerned and then he stopped himself. This wasn’t about him, she’d said, so what he thought wasn’t the point. ‘I appreciate you being so honest with me. And if you get to the point where you’re ready to take that step with me, I will treat you with all the care and respect you deserve. For now, I’m content with this.’
‘Oh, Tristan.’ Her fingers brushed his and he curled his own around them. Holding her hand, feeling the weight of her head on his thigh, the softness of her hair beneath his other hand, he truly was content. There were many levels of intimacy, a hundred little steps they could take until they took the ultimate one, and each one would be special.
Because it was her. ‘I still wish I’d kissed you that night,’ he confessed to the dark.
‘Part of me wishes you had, too, but then my life would’ve been too different. I wouldn’t have had the boys, and …’
‘And what?’ he murmured softly, fingers stroking her hair.
‘There’s so much you don’t know about that night, some silly, inconsequential stuff that contributed to me leaving, but also …’ she sighed. ‘My brother, Marcus, died that night.’
Jesus. He’d been pining over some missed opportunity to kiss her whilst her world had fallen apart. ‘Oh, Jess, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.’
‘I know.’ She curled on her side on the bench, head still resting on his thigh. He lowered his hand to rub her back, trying to comfort her, and knowing it could never be enough to fill the terrible void she must carry inside. ‘I didn’t tell anyone at work because I was ashamed. Not about what he’d done, but because I hadn’t been able to help him. He’d had an addiction problem for a while, and it wasn’t the first time he OD’d’ her voice hitched on a breathy sob. ‘… but it was the last.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’ Sorry seemed pathetic, but what else could be offer her?
‘Marcus and Steve were best friends, and it broke him almost as much as it did me. If it hadn’t been for him, I’m not sure how I would’ve got through it, and it was the same for him.’
The pieces started slotting into place. The change in person
ality he’d put down to her wanting to avoid him after his clumsy pass had in fact been nothing to do with him. The sudden appearance of a new boyfriend on the scene no one had heard of before and her subsequent marriage. ‘That’s how you ended up together.’
‘Yes.’ It was barely a whisper. When she spoke again, her voice was stronger; steadier. ‘We needed each other, to survive, and eventually to heal. Grief drove us together, but that’s no foundation for a healthy relationship, and as time passed we realised we didn’t need each other anymore. I loved him, and he loved me, and I’ll never regret bringing our two wonderful boys into this world, but Steve’s not my happy ending.’
As he stroked her back and listened to her soft breathing, Tristan swore in his heart that when the time was right he wouldn’t let her get away again. Prince Charming and Cinderella he’d called them that long-ago Christmas. And, damn it, he wasn’t too old to believe in fairy tales.
Chapter 13
That stolen hour beneath the stars with Tristan marked a turning point in their relationship. Though the big questions remained unresolved, there was a tacit understanding of the connection between them. When they’d parted at the bottom of the stairs leading to the nursery, he’d lifted his fingers to stroke her cheek before bidding her good night. A ghost of a touch which had left things inside her shivering more than even a kiss might have done, and she went to sleep with a smile on her face and the possibility of them wrapped around her like a blanket.
She didn’t have long to dwell on it when she was startled awake, what felt like five minutes after closing her eyes, by a screaming cry through the monitor on her phone. She was staggering across the playroom when Elijah came running to tell her Isaac was poorly. Dispatching Elijah with a quick hug to snuggle down in the warm patch she’d left in her bed, she spent the rest of the night trying to soothe her youngest who’d come down with the same bug which had laid Elijah low. His little body seemed to take a worse dose, and the next twenty-four hours were attritional. Eventually, Jess reached the point of wondering if she should just leave Isaac in the bath as she seemed to spend most of her time washing off the results of his latest mishap. One of the washing machines was in constant use thanks to her multiple trips downstairs with sheets, towels and pyjamas.
How could such a tiny body produce so much vomit, she wondered as she yanked off her T-shirt and chucked it into the sink alongside Isaac’s latest pair of soiled pjs. ‘Oh, I know, I know, my poor baby,’ she crooned as she rocked the poor little mite against her shoulder.
‘Mummy, Tristan’s here.’
The bathroom door swung open to reveal her half-naked state not only to Elijah, who’d had to stay home from school for forty-eight hours as per their rules, but Tristan a few feet behind him at the threshold to the playroom.
‘Oh! Oh, bl— imey I’m sorry,’ he said, turning his back to her offering her a view of his shaggy hair tumbling over the collar of a perfectly crisp, clean cotton shirt.
She glanced down at the bright red lace bra she’d put on that morning because her two favourite everyday bras were lurking in the bottom of her washing basket, her own laundry needs neglected in the face of the mini disaster area in her arms. If that wasn’t bad enough, she hadn’t had the time – or the energy – to wash her hair and it was currently scraped back off her face in a greasy knot. Ah, well, if he was serious about wanting to be with her, best he learnt sooner rather than later the reality of life with two small boys. Especially, she thought, as she turned her gaze to Elijah who was grinning up at her, when one of them was hellbent on mischief. ‘Why don’t you make yourself useful, Eli, and fetch Mummy a clean T-shirt?’
‘I can do that for you,’ Tristan said, sounding desperate for an excuse to get away. ‘I only popped up to see how Isaac was.’
‘Thank you. There should be one in the second drawer of the dresser in my bedroom.’ As soon as she said it, she remembered the state she’d left her room in. She hadn’t even had time to make the bed, and there were a least two dirty mugs on her bedside cabinet waiting for her to have a minute to catch up on the washing up. Perhaps there was such a thing as too much reality, but it was too late now to call him back.
Ignoring what couldn’t be helped, she tugged a towel from the warmth of the radiator and wrapped a shivering Isaac up in its soft heat. ‘Who’s Mummy’s brave boy?’ she asked him as she sat him on the closed lid of the toilet and ran a flannel under the hot tap. Crouching down she wiped his sweaty face with the wet cloth, then brushed his straggling fringe from his forehead. ‘Feeling any better, darling?’ He gave a sad little nod then stretched his hands up towards her. Gathering him up, she carried him out of the bathroom towards his bedroom.
A stack of clean laundry, dropped off earlier by the wonderful Mrs W sat on top of the dresser and Jess soon had Isaac bundled up in a onesie and a pair of cosy socks. ‘Do you want to lie down for a bit?’ Another little nod. ‘Okay, darling, here you go.’ She settled him in bed, coaxed him to take a sip or two from his cup of very weak squash, and sat with him until his sooty little lashes fluttered closed. He was exhausted, and she hoped he might sleep for an hour or two. When she was sure he was fast asleep, she picked up his almost empty cup to take it back to the kitchen for a refill. She stepped from the bedroom to find a grey jersey top sitting in a neat square next to the door. Shrugging into it, she couldn’t help but sigh. Soft and loose, it was an old favourite, and she immediately felt better for wearing it.
Padding on her bare feet into the playroom, she found Tristan knelt on the big rug beside Elijah as her son explained the complicated hierarchy of the various superhero action figures laid out between them. He raised his head long enough to give her a ghost of a wink before returning his attention to the relative merits of Thor vs Iron Man. Both she and Steve had thought Elijah too young for the movies, but not all the parents of his classmates had agreed, and awareness of the toys had been all pervasive at his old school. Elijah didn’t seem bothered about not having seen them, happy to make up his own adventures with the various characters.
Thankful for a moment to not have to worry about either of her boys, Jess hurried into her room to find that not only had the mugs been removed, but the quilt had been straightened on her bed, the curtains drawn back and the top window opened an inch to let a bit of brisk, fresh air in. In the kitchen, the two mugs had been properly washed and set on the draining board to dry. Such a simple thing, but the sight of them made her stomach flutter. Some men bought you roses; some washed up your dirty mugs. She knew which she preferred. Having washed Isaac’s cup and fixed him a fresh drink, she took the time to pour a glass of milk and arrange a couple of chocolate biscuits on a plate for Elijah. He’d been so good – not a single murmur of complaint about being kept home from school and cooped up in the nursery while she looked after Isaac – he deserved a little treat.
Balancing the two cups and the plate, she set down Elijah’s treat on one of the little desks in the playroom. ‘Snack time, Eli.’
Abandoning Tristan mid-conversation, Elijah scrambled up from the rug and hurried over to take a seat at the desk. ‘Thanks, Mummy!’ She rested her hand on his head for a moment before heading back to check on Isaac.
He was properly out, thank goodness, and Jess crept around, putting his drink beside the bed then setting the tablet nearby so she would know the moment he stirred. She inched the bedroom door closed, freezing when the latch clicked, but there were no sounds from inside. Turning away, she almost bumped straight into Tristan. ‘Oh!’ She clapped her hand over her mouth.
‘Sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I didn’t want to worry Elijah by talking in front of him. How’s he doing?’
She shook her head. ‘Not great. I’m really hoping he can sleep it off for a bit, but he’s hardly kept anything down. If he doesn’t show any sign of improvement when he wakes up, I think I’ll have to call the doctor.’
Tristan touched a thumb to her cheek. ‘You look exhausted.’
‘Gee, thanks.�
�� But she didn’t resist when he put his arms around her and tugged her close. It was so nice to give herself up to him, even if it was only for a matter of seconds. ‘I needed that,’ she said, easing back from his hold.
‘I’m here to serve.’ His fingers pressed her hips for a moment before falling away. ‘Look, why don’t you go and grab some rest while Isaac is sleeping? I can take Elijah downstairs with me or bring my laptop up here if you’d prefer. I’ve got a couple of emails to sort out, but other than that I’m mostly twiddling my thumbs until we can start the set up for the winter festival next week.’ He gave her a grin. ‘You might be doing me a favour, actually, as I could do with a distraction.’
Her hand went to her head conscious of her greasy hair. ‘I should have a shower first.’
‘Sleep first, shower later.’
God, had there really been a time when she’d found this bossy side of him unattractive? Right now – if she hadn’t been almost dead on her feet – it would be pushing all her buttons. Still, she couldn’t quite allow herself to give into it. ‘Give me five minutes to have a shower and I’ll be right as rain.’
A look of frustration creased Tristan’s brow. ‘Why is it so hard for you to let someone take care of you for a change? You need sleep, I’m happy to sit with Elijah to allow you to rest. How is this a drama?’
She was sure she had a point, but right at that moment her brain was too addled to find it. ‘Okay, if you’re sure you don’t mind? I’d rather you stayed up here. I’d sleep better knowing there was someone else to listen out for Isaac.’
‘Then it’s a done deal. Give me two minutes and I’ll be back.’
Jess finally surfaced from her nap four hours later. It was pitch dark beyond her half-open curtains and it took her a moment to orientate herself. Slipping from her bed, she padded into the playroom area to find Tristan and Elijah sprawled side by side on the rug watching something on Tristan’s laptop. A pair of dirty plates sat on one of the desks and she noticed that Elijah was wearing his favourite Spiderman pyjamas. ‘Everything all right?’
The Bluebell Castle Collection Page 62
