Page 7

CHAPTER 6

“W hat the hell is wrong with you?” Tristan snapped as he jumped to his feet.

“Ye might want to take that off,” Shayne said as Tristan yanked off his shirt.

Tristan shook his head in disgust as he snapped, “Let me guess. It entertained you to do that.”

Shayne’s lips twitched. “Ye could say that,” he said as Tristan used his tee-shirt to dry his chest.

Before Tristan could retaliate, a knock sounded at the door.

“Ye better get that, lad,” Shayne drawled.

Tristan shot him a glare before he tossed the shirt on the coffee table and stormed off towards the door. Whoever was waiting started to pound on the door before he reached the foyer.

“Calm the hell down! I’m coming!”

He was in absolutely no fucking mood for this tonight.

Between his mother’s constant nagging, Shayne fucking with his head, and being stuck on medical leave with nothing to do, he was pissed. Top that all off with seeing Marty today and being chased off by that prick, and he was in the mood to kill someone. Well, unless it was a Girl Scout. He might let one of them live if they had some of those caramel cookies that he was addicted to.

The pounding started again. “Un-fucking real,” Tristan muttered as he unlocked the door and yanked it open. His brows shot up as he took in Marty struggling beneath the weight of his mother’s largest wicker picnic basket on his front step.

* * *

“A little help here would be nice,” Marty said as she stumbled to the side, only to sigh in relief when Tristan reached over and grabbed the basket and-

She may have whimpered.

Just a little.

Her memories of his body did not do him justice, not even a little bit. She remembered that he’d always been lean and well-built, but now, he was…he was yummy. There really was no other way to describe it. She took in his low-hanging jeans that gave a good view of narrow hips and a dark happy trail that disappeared beneath the waistband before her gaze slowly moved up and took in rope after rope of muscle before taking in the Celtic tattoo on his right pec. Did she mention yummy? Because it should definitely be mentioned. She took in the dark pink wound on his shoulder before she ran her gaze down his large biceps and the tribal tattoos that circled both arms. To top it all off, was a golden tan that highlighted all that yumminess.

The man was a god.

* * *

Tristan couldn’t move as Marty ran her eyes over him. He swallowed hard as he watched her eyes devour him and-

“She wants ye,” Shayne whispered in his ear. “Yer totally in. Just flex a little muscle, big guy, and she’s yers.”

Tristan just barely caught himself before he told the man to fuck off. That’s all he needed was for Marty to think that he was crazy. That would just make his already fucked-up life perfect.

Marty cleared her throat as she reached up and carefully ran her fingertips around his wound, making him swallow hard as he struggled against the urge to lean into her touch.

Christ, it was addicting.

“Does it still hurt?” she asked, her gaze flickering up to meet his gaze.

“What are you doing here?” Tristan asked, mentally kicking his own ass at how rude he sounded, but he couldn’t help but wonder why the woman that he’d been avoiding for years suddenly showed up on his front step to drive him out of his fucking mind.

Marty sighed heavily as she dropped her hand away. “I was just doing your mother a favor. Don’t worry, I won’t do it again,” she said as she turned around and started to leave only to frown while they watched his father’s truck stop in front of the house.

“I’m sorry, Marty. I have to make a run to the college to collect some…things. You know how much Tom hates for me to go there at night alone, so he’s going to take me and then we’re going out for a while. We’d thought it would be fun. Oh, and Denny’s leaving, too!” his mother yelled before his father had a chance to roll the window down all the way.

Marty opened her mouth only to have his mother cut her off.

“Also, I just spoke with Hank. Your Dad isn’t going to be home until tomorrow morning and I’m not sure when we’re going to be home,” she said as her gaze shifted to him.

“Sweetie, you don’t mind if Marty stays here until we get home, do you?” Before Tristan could respond, his mother smiled brightly and continued. “Actually, since we’re all going to be out so late, you might want to make up a room for her and let her spend the night. I know you wouldn’t turn the poor thing out and make her wait on her father’s doorstep all night.”

Tristan opened his mouth and-

“Great, I’m glad that’s all taken care of. Love you!” his mother yelled as she sat back and effectively ended the conversation, not that there had been much of one.

Tom closed the window while he mouthed what Tristan thought was “Sorry.” They stood there shocked while his parents drove away. Denny was close behind them in his SUV. He paused only long enough to shake with uncontrollable laughter and confirm his suspicions that he’d just been fucked over.

Marty pressed her palms against her eyes. “This cannot be happening.”

“What the hell was all that about?” Tristan asked as his eyes dropped to Marty’s, in his opinion, perfectly rounded ass. He managed to look up, appearing innocent by the time she turned around.

“I have a bad feeling that your mother,” Marty paused, swallowing hard before adding, “is playing matchmaker.”

Tristan cursed as Shayne burst out laughing.

“Oh, it took her long enough, didn’t it? I swear she’s the last one to notice,” he said, only to purse his lips up as he looked at Marty. “Well, maybe not the last.”

“Fucking stop!” Tristan snapped, startling Marty.

“You know what? I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can figure out how to pick a lock,” Marty said, gesturing to the basket. “Bon appetite and have a nice life,” and with that, she turned around and stormed off.

“Wait!” Tristan found himself saying, surprising the hell out of himself. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was…I was…just bitching about my wound. It’s itching like crazy.”

Marty paused, looking over her shoulder at him as her gaze landed on his scar, looking torn.

Tristan stepped aside and gestured for her to come inside. “I’ll give you the tour and show you where you can sleep.”

She rocked back on her heels as she considered him. “I don’t want to intrude, Tristan. I know this isn’t what you want.”

He scowled at that. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

She opened her mouth only to sigh and said, “Nothing. Forget it.”

“Are you coming in or not?” Tristan snapped, furious with himself for fucking this up.

She smiled sweetly at him. “When you put it that way, how can a girl resist? Oh, wait, probably like this,” Marty said brightly, sending him a glare before she turned around and stormed off.

“Yer ma’s gonna kick yer ass for this one, lad,” Shayne said as Tristan threw one last look of longing in Marty’s direction before he reluctantly closed the door.

Frustrated, Tristan rammed his fingers through his hair. “Don’t fucking care,” he ground out as he took the basket into the kitchen and angrily put all the food away. Any appetite he’d had was gone with having to watch her walk away, taking another piece of his soul with her.

* * *

“What an asshole,” Marty muttered to herself as she carefully climbed up the rose trellis next to her bedroom window.

For the first time in years, she was happy about the blinding security lights her father insisted on putting on the house since they made it easier to see what she was doing as long as she squinted, that is. Progress was slowed considerably as she was forced to constantly stop to detangle her clothes from the thorns and splinters attacking her. Unfortunately, she was only five feet from the ground when the sky decided to open up and pour down on her.

Within seconds, she was completely drenched and the trellis turned into a slippery obstacle course. She used her arm to push her wet hair out of her face as she cursed Tristan under her breath.

Like she really wanted to spend the night alone with him. She wouldn’t go somewhere that she wasn’t wanted, and he clearly wanted nothing to do with her.

Ten minutes later, she finally managed to reach her bedroom window. She carefully hooked her left arm through the trellis and reached for the window with her other hand.

“Almost…” Marty mumbled to herself only to discover that her window was locked.

Grumbling several choice words that would make even her father blush, she reluctantly started climbing down the slippery trellis. Halfway down, she lost her grip and fell to the ground, landing on her ass in what used to the be the flower garden that now consisted of waterlogged flowers, murky water, and mud.

“Oh, come on!”

For the next five minutes, Marty struggled to get to her feet. Every time she managed to pull a limb out, it was met with a loud suction noise and then a large splatter as she slipped and landed back in the mud until she was completely covered from head to toe.

Oh, her day officially sucked ass.

Finally, and with one less shoe, Marty managed to trudge through the large puddles of water coving the lawn and made her way up the walkway and onto the front step. She turned her back to the wind and rain and huddled against the door as she pulled her phone out and sighed with relief. At least things were looking up. Her phone had somehow survived the mud bath.

She took a minute to figure out who she should call. Her father was definitely out of the question, at least for the moment. She didn’t want to ask him to come home to let her in since he was handling a double shift. Beth and Tom were definitely out. They would only come back so that Beth could find another way to shove her at Tristan.

With her luck, Beth would lock them in her shed out back until they promised her marriage and grandchildren. Her friends were probably out of the question as well. Half of them were at work and wouldn’t be able to leave. The other half were either studying or with their boyfriends. Unfortunately, that half didn’t own a car or would willingly cut into their time with their boyfriends to help her out.

They kind of sucked.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Marty cursed herself out for losing the spare key last year. Why she hadn’t replaced it before it came to this, she didn’t know. Oh, wait, yes, she did because she was an idiot. Within minutes, she was shivering. She looked wistfully across the street. Damn Beth and her matchmaking ways. If not for that, she could be happily sitting on the couch across the street, fighting with Denny over the last slice of cake. Instead, she was going to freeze her ass off out here.

She glared back in the direction of Tristan’s house. There was no way in hell that she was going back there. She’d rather die out here and be found in the morning as a giant mud popsicle than beg him for anything. He wasn’t the kind boy from her childhood that she remembered.

He was the cold bastard that everyone warned her about.

* * *

“It’s pouring out there, lad,” Shayne said for the tenth time.

“Uh-huh,” Tristan mumbled absently as he fought through a pack of demons to get to the next level.

“She’s probably freezing her wee ass off,” Shayne added.

“Probably,” Tristan agreed.

“Maybe,” Shayne cleared his throat nervously, “Maybe ye should go out there and ask her to come back.”

Tristan chuckled. “Like hell, I will. She wanted to leave. I’m not about to go beg her to come back. If she wants to freeze her ass off, that’s her business.”

“That’s cold, lad,” Shayne said, sounding genuinely shocked. Tristan didn’t know why. Shayne knew that he was a cold bastard, after all.

Hell, everyone knew.

Still…

“I invited her in. She’s the one who decided my invitation was lacking,” Tristan said defensively.

“I know, but still…” Shayne said, letting the words trail off.

“Still, what?” Tristan demanded.

“It’s Marty, lad,” Shayne said quietly.

Tristan closed his eyes and groaned. Leave it up to Shayne to get to the heart of the matter. Marty was out there alone, cold and wet, and could be hurt. Even after all these years, the thought of her in trouble was enough to piss him off and get him off his ass.

Tristan paused the game and tossed the controller on the couch. “Don’t fuck with my character or I’ll put child blockers on the internet and put a halt to your free porn,” he warned.

Shayne flipped him off and mumbled a promise to let every ghost that annoyed the shit out of him past him if Tristan came between him and his porn. Knowing that it wasn’t an idle threat, Tristan kept his mouth shut and made his way to the front door. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get Marty here, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to beg her. If he had to throw her over his shoulder and carry her spoiled ass back here, he would.

He grabbed his keys, the small black leather case he kept by the door and slipped it into his back pocket, and headed out the door, not bothering with a shirt since it would just get wet anyway.

A minute later, he was making his way up the short driveway when he spotted Marty sitting on the front step, covered in mud, shivering violently, and looking really fucking pissed.

“Couldn’t get in?” Tristan stupidly asked.

“I could, but it’s so much nicer out here, don’t you think?” Marty said dryly, only to follow that up with a grumble when the wind suddenly changed, soaking her all over again.

He bit back a sigh, wondering why he’d left his warm house for this shit. “Listen, I came to invite you back to my house.”

“No, thank you,” Marty bit out through clenched teeth.

That took him by surprise. “You’d rather stay out here and freeze your ass off than come back to my house?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Tristan demanded.

She pushed her wet hair out of her face as she muttered, “Just go away, Tristan. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

Clenching his jaw shut tightly, Tristan stepped past her as he pulled the black case from his back pocket and kneeled in front of the door. In less than a minute, he had the front door unlocked and opened it for her.

“How did you do that?” Marty asked as he turned around and walked away, telling himself that it was the last fucking time.