Page 21

CHAPTER 20

“A re you sure you’re okay?”

“Fine,” Tristan said distractedly as he opened his car door and carefully climbed out.

With a sigh, Marty pulled the keys out of the ignition, grabbed her purse and did the same. She was more than ready to put this whole bizarre day behind her. Her day had started with harassing phone calls, Tristan stealing her much-needed apple fritter and dealing with his asshole ways. It hadn’t exactly been a pleasant experience. If that wasn’t bad enough, he decided to end the day by confusing her.

That is until all hell broke loose at her favorite barbeque restaurant. She still couldn’t figure out how Tristan knew what was happening. The whole thing had been scary and admittedly impressive. Tristan had moved with the confidence of a man twice his age and even when it was more than obvious to everyone that he was in pain, he still did his job and kept them all safe. It also didn’t hurt that the whole thing made him look incredibly sexy and she wasn’t the only one who’d thought so.

While he’d pointedly ignored the paramedics’ demands that he be seen at the hospital, every single woman there and a few that she was pretty sure weren’t single, fussed over him and offered to make him a homemade meal as a thank-you. A few of the more forward women had leaned in and whispered something in his ear that seemed to annoy him, which somewhat appeased her since she had a pretty good idea what they were offering him.

She hated not being able to make sure that he was okay and she really hated watching other women do it, but she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. He’d made it clear that he didn’t care about her. He wanted her that much was clear, but he didn’t care about her. She knew that wouldn’t bother some women enough to keep them from giving into years of fantasies, but she just couldn’t make love to a man who didn’t give a damn about anyone, including her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning at seven-thirty,” Marty said as she turned to make the short walk home. Since he couldn’t make it to tonight’s group therapy session, her father decided that he would attend the meeting in the morning, or he shouldn’t bother showing up to work until he was cleared to return to full duty.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Tristan suggested, taking her by surprise.

“Why?” Marty asked with a heavy sigh.

“Because I think we need to talk,” Tristan said, gesturing for her to come with him.

“Sorry, but I’m really not in the mood for a lecture tonight or whatever it is that you have planned,” Marty said, once again heading towards her house but she didn’t get very far.

“We’re not putting this off any longer,” Tristan said as he took her hand in his and gave it a gentle pull in the direction of his house.

“Putting off what any longer?” Marty asked, wondering exactly what he planned on yelling at her about now. Was he pissed that she didn’t run when he’d told her to? Or maybe he was going to try bullying her into vacating their office. Then again, he might just want to take this opportunity to tell her that he didn’t care what Hank said, he wasn’t going to any of the meetings. If it was the latter, then they really didn’t need to have this talk because she’d already figured out that he was going to make her life a living hell.

“We need to talk about-”

“Is that...is that porno music?” Marty asked, cutting him off and frowning as she tried to make out the music coming from the other side of his front door.

“No,” Tristan said through what looked like a painfully clenched jaw. “I keep the television on to make burglars think that someone’s home,” he explained tightly as he dropped her hand and pulled out his keys.

“I see,” Marty said, doing her best to hide her smile. “By making them think that someone is enjoying some alone time?” she asked sweetly as he glared down at her.

“No.”

“If you say so...” Marty said with a look that clearly stated that she didn’t believe him.

“I don’t watch that shit,” Tristan said loudly as he opened the front door with a lot more noise than she thought was really necessary. Before she could tease him again, the music abruptly changed to the theme song from Gilligan’s Island.

He sent her a triumphant look as he closed the door behind them and walked down the hallway, pausing only long enough to send a rather odd glare at something in the empty living room. Okay, that was a little weird, Marty thought as she reluctantly followed him.

“Do you mind telling me what you need to talk to me about so that I can get on with the rest of my night and grab something to eat?” Marty asked as she followed him into the obscenely large kitchen.

“We can eat while we talk,” Tristan said, opening the freezer door and pulled out a white container overflowing with ice cubes and placed it on the counter, uncaring that ice went flying as he grabbed a kitchen towel and began filling it with ice.

“It’s been a long day, Tristan. Any chance that you can just get to the point?” Marty asked, biting back a sigh as she took over filling the cloth with ice when it became obvious that he was struggling.

“You don’t want to eat first?” Tristan asked, sounding nervous.

What exactly did he have to be nervous about, Marty wondered as he gave her what appeared to be a hopeful smile. Whatever it was, Tristan clearly wanted to put it off for a while. Who would have ever thought the day would come when Tristan Black was nervous about something? She certainly hadn’t. He wanted to put off whatever it was that he wanted to talk about, so, of course, she decided that she wanted to hear it now.

“No, I think we should talk about it now,” Marty said, biting back another smile when he opened his mouth only to shut it abruptly.

“Well?” she asked, cocking an expectant brow.

Tristan cleared his throat, obviously trying to stall for more time as he focused all of his attention on unbuttoning his shirt. “I could fire up the grill,” he offered, trying to use her love of barbecue against her.

“No, that’s fine. I’d rather hear what you have to say,” Marty said, sighing heavily as she gently pushed his hand away and finished unbuttoning his shirt for him. Once she was done, she pulled the shirt out of his pants and moved to push it off when she spotted an angry bruise poking out from beneath the edge of his shirt.

“Oh, my God, Tristan,” Marty whispered as she carefully pushed his shirt out of the way so that she could see the extent of the damage.

A large bruise that looked fresh started just above the left side of his chest and went all the way up to his shoulder. She wasn’t a medical professional or anything, but it looked painful and definitely like something that should be looked at by a doctor. He winced as she helped him push his shirt off his left arm, but other than that, he didn’t complain, not that she actually expected him to. This was Tristan Black, after all.

“You need to go to the hospital,” Marty said, moving behind him to see the extent of the damage. She was glad that he was looking the other way so that he didn’t see her cringe. Both sides were bruised, but the top of his shoulder and back clearly got the worst of it.

“Not necessary,” Tristan said, grabbing the homemade ice pack and placed it against his chest.

“It’s very necessary, Tristan. You really hurt yourself,” Marty said as she considered calling his father and brother so they could take a look at it and, if needed, drag him to the hospital.

“It’s fine, Marty,” Tristan said, walking over to the refrigerator. He placed the ice pack on top of the fridge and opened the door. “You want a beer or a Coke?”

“Nothing,” Marty said, sighing heavily. “I want you to go to the hospital and get that thing checked out.”

What if he’d really damaged his arm? He could have torn something or aggravated his injury. Ignoring it wasn’t an option, but apparently, that’s exactly what Tristan planned on doing.

“Coke, it is,” Tristan said, grabbing two Cokes with his right hand and placed them on the counter. He managed to open his Coke with his right hand before he grabbed the ice pack and placed it back against his chest. Then, as if to prove that he really wasn’t hurt, Tristan picked up his soda with his left hand and proceeded to drink it while she glared at him.

“Get your butt back in the car, Tristan. We’re going to the hospital,” Marty said, deciding that she’d see if she could manage to get him there by herself before she called in the big guns.

“No,” Tristan simply said as he walked past her. He placed his soda on the table and pulled out a chair, trying to hide his wince as he sat down.

“I’m not kidding, Tristan. Get your butt in that car, now,” Marty said firmly, hoping that would be enough to get him to move his ass. Apparently, it wasn’t because he only chuckled as he leaned back in his chair.

“Or what?” Tristan asked with a slow, sexy smile that made her mouth go dry and made it difficult to think, never mind do what needed to be done.

“If you don’t want barbeque, then we could always order in,” Tristan suggested, giving her the distraction that she needed.

“We’re not ordering in, Tristan,” she said with a sigh as she unzipped her purse and grabbed her phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling your father and brother because, clearly, I’m in over my head here and you’re an idiot. I’m going to call them and let them drag you to the hosp- hey !” Marty gasped when he plucked the phone out of her hands and placed it in his pocket.

“Give it back,” Marty said, holding her hand out expectantly.

“Sorry. Can’t do that, Marty,” Tristan said as he crossed his arms over his impressive chest.

“You’re going to the hospital,” Marty told him as she considered the odds of being able to steal the phone away from him.

“No, I’m not so let it go,” Tristan warned her with a hard glint in his eyes. It was the same look he’d used to get when he was a child and someone mentioned the hospital to him.

“Please tell me that you’re not still afraid of hospitals,” Marty said with a heavy sigh.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Tristan said evenly. “I’m just not going to waste my time going for something that ice and a few aspirins can handle.”

“Okay, sure, whatever,” Marty said, having had more than enough for one day. If he was going to be stubborn, then that was fine with her. She had better things to do with her time than to waste it by arguing with him. “I’m going home. See you in the morning,” she said, moving to walk out of the kitchen when he stepped in front of her and blocked her path.

“We need to talk, Marty,” Tristan said, once again looking nervous.

She shook her head as she moved to step around him. “Whatever it is will have to wait until tomorrow.”

“It can’t,” Tristan said, moving to step in front of her again.

“It can,” Marty said, managing to step past him and once she did, she kept going.

“Marty, wait!” Tristan said, following after her. “We really need to talk.”

“No, we don’t. What we need to do is stop playing these games. You don’t want to work with me and that’s fine because we won’t be working together for much longer anyway,” Marty said, reaching for the door, but once again, Tristan managed to cut her off.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tristan demanded as he maneuvered her away from the door.

“As soon as I get my degree, I’m going to look for a job far away from here. So, as you can see, there’s no need to give me a pointless lecture or try to drive me off. Consider the message well-received, Tristan. I’ll be out of your hair in a matter of months,” Marty said, forcing herself to sound firm as grief slammed into her at the thought of never seeing him again.

“You’re leaving?” he asked hollowly.

“Yes,” Marty snapped as she moved past him and once again reached for the door, more than ready to end this conversation and go home and enjoy a hot bubble bath with a pint of ice cream while she did her best to forget that this day ever happened.

“Marty, you can’t leave.”

She snorted at that. “Watch me.”

Tristan placed his hand on the door just as she managed to open it and slammed it shut. “We really have to talk.”

“No, we don’t,” Marty said, trying to open the door, but he was clearly a hell of a lot stronger than her. “Let me go, Tristan.”

“Never.”

“Why the hell not?” Marty snapped, turning around to face him. She was sick of his games, sick of the way he made her feel, and most of all, she was sick of being in love with him. She wished she had never-

“Because I’m in love with you.” The words rushed out of his mouth, clearly taking them both by surprise.

He looked stunned by the admission, which probably matched her own expression, but she was also pissed. Something inside of her snapped, something she’d held back all these years and once she opened her mouth, she couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“You love me?” Marty demanded, moving closer to him.

“Yes?” Tristan said, making it sound like a question and further pissing her off.

“Did you love me all those years ago when you shoved me aside and pretended that I didn’t exist?” Marty demanded, getting in his face.

“Yes,” Tristan said, swallowing hard as he shot an nervous glance around the large foyer as though someone or something would come and save him from this conversation.

“So, all these years while you treated me like I was nothing and no one, it was just an act?” Marty demanded, her voice getting louder with every syllable.

“Yes,” Tristan said, looking back down at her for a brief moment before he started looking around again and taking her irritation to a whole new level.

“Silly me because when you acted like I didn’t exist and then started to treat me like shit when we were forced to work together, I just assumed that you hated me. But, of course, I should have known that all the crap that you put me through was just your way of declaring your undying love for me,” Marty snapped, her tone thick with sarcasm.

Tristan winced as he admitted, “Something like that.”

“Something like that?” Marty repeated in disgust. He really had to be kidding. She narrowed her eyes on him as she glared up at him. “I’m through with these games, Tristan, and I’m through with-”

You , Marty thought when Tristan took her mouth in a kiss that robbed her of the ability to speak until all she was left with was the overwhelming need to hold onto him and never let him go.