Page 24

24

Tristan

C olonel Pelegrin’s assistant was not at her desk when Tristan arrived—which made sense, since she always took an early lunch.

Or the colonel doesn’t want anyone around for the conversation we’re about to have .

He knocked on the door, waiting until he heard a clipped “Come in.”

The colonel was on the phone, and he didn’t look pleased. His hand gripped the receiver like it had personally offended him.

“No. I can’t wait till next week. I need it today.”

He didn’t wait for a response—just ended the call with a jab of his finger and a sharp exhale before leveling his gaze on Tristan. Irritation seemed to sharpen his features.

That’s me. Just one more irritation in an aggravating day.

“Sir?” Tristan asked, though there was little doubt in his mind as to why he’d been summoned.

Colonel Pelegrin didn’t ask him to sit. He leaned forward, folding his hands. “I’ll keep this short, Lieutenant. We still have no idea who broke into my house, or why. Some things were damaged, but nothing was taken. I don’t like that. So I don’t want my daughter coming home until we know more. Understood?”

“Understood, sir,” Tristan said evenly. “She’s with Alex and Yvette right now. I’m picking her up this afternoon to take her to an appointment at an art gallery, then bringing her back to my place.”

The colonel nodded once. “You keep her with you. And you keep her safe.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tristan held the colonel’s hard gaze.

“I trust you to protect her, Lieutenant. That does not mean I think you’re good enough for her.”

The words hit harder than they should have—which was odd, because Tristan didn’t think he was good enough for Lena either. And yet she’d chosen him—at least for now.

“I’ll make sure she’s safe, Colonel.”

The older man seemed like he might say more—something sharp, or final—but his phone rang again. He glanced at the screen.

“I have to take this. That’ll be all, Lieutenant.”

Dismissed .

Tristan turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that felt personal.

By the time he made it back down to his desk, his jaw ached from how hard he’d been clenching it. His cheeks burned—not from shame exactly, but from the helpless frustration of it all. The colonel hadn’t even raised his voice. He hadn’t needed to. Quiet disappointment could cut deeper than fury.

It would almost have been better if the man had threatened his career. Anything but this. And Tristan got it. He did. The man wanted something different—something better —for his daughter.

He thought of all the things he could have said, if he’d been brave enough. That he’d never thought of himself as the kind of person who could fall in love, and yet he was half in love with Lena already. That every time she smiled at him, it both healed and terrified him. That he didn’t think he was good enough for her, that he didn’t know if he could ever deserve her—but he was going to try anyway, if she gave him the chance.

Tristan dropped into his chair, the familiar creak grounding him in the present. His Inbox was full, but there was no rescue to rush to. Which gave him time to think—too much time, when his mind was still upstairs, still locked on everything he could have said.

Right . Because the colonel would have loved to hear everything he was thinking.

He picked up his phone, checking for messages. One from Lena, sent five minutes ago. He smiled, the first real one since this morning.

Alex and Yvette are cute together. They’re arguing about the best way to cook eggs. My appointment at the gallery was confirmed for five p.m. I can walk if you’re busy.

No. Just, no . He didn’t want to scare her, but he had to make her see that wasn’t going to work. He tapped out a quick reply.

Wait with Alex, please. I’ll pick you up at 4:30. We’ll go together.

The cursor blinked after the last word, and he almost added an I miss you , but didn’t.

He was still staring at his phone when Lorenz strolled up to his desk. “Is it talking back yet?”

Tristan blinked. “Huh?”

“The phone. You’ve been staring at it like you’re trying to mind-meld.”

Tristan exhaled, setting it down. “Something like that.”

Lorenz raised an eyebrow. “Is this about the break-in?”

“The colonel doesn’t want Lena going home until they know who did it.”

“Smart man,” Lorenz said. Then, more gently, “You okay?”

Tristan hesitated. “He told me he trusts me to keep her safe.”

“Okay.”

“He also said I’m not good enough for her.”

Lorenz winced, but didn’t give him any platitudes. Tristan appreciated that.

“I don’t think I’m good enough for her either,” Tristan said finally.

Lorenz nodded, then gave him a crooked smile. “Come. Get your running shoes. We’re taking an early lunch break.”

“ Y ou sure you’ve been cleared to work out?” Lorenz asked. “You’re moving like an old man.”

Tristan didn’t even bother to reply. Words would cost him breath he couldn’t spare. The last weeks of forced inactivity had taken their toll, and now his legs were clearly questioning his life choices. Then again, running with Lorenz was lunacy at the best of times. The man wasn’t just fit—he was otherworldly. A veteran of countless Ironmans, Lorenz had also completed the Marathon des Sables last year, a six-day ultramarathon across the Sahara that most sane people wouldn’t attempt, let alone finish with a grin.

Tristan sighed inwardly as Lorenz veered onto the path climbing toward Petit Balcon Nord.

“Where the hell are we going?” he managed.

“To the top,” Lorenz answered, far too casually.

Fantastic . This was going to hurt.

Still, Tristan’s pride kept his feet moving, even as his lungs burned and his legs protested. If he tapped out now, Lorenz would never let him live it down—and worse, he’d be right.

“Breathe through your nose,” Lorenz called back over his shoulder. “Unless you enjoy sucking wind like a dying lawnmower.”

Tristan gritted his teeth. “I swear to God, Lorenz…”

“You’re doing better than I thought, if you still have breath left to chat.”

“I’m not even sure you’re human,” Tristan huffed out, and then didn’t say anything else, because he needed every molecule of oxygen his mouth could suck in.

Lorenz laughed—because the bastard could run uphill and laugh at the same time.

Finally, the ridge came into view. Thank God . Tristan’s legs shook something fierce, his lungs felt scraped raw, and the cleats on his shoes felt like they weighed a ton, but it was a good kind of pain, the kind that reminded him he was lucky to be alive.

He bent over, hands braced on his knees, pulling air like it was going out of style. The view was insane—snowcapped peaks to one side, the Chamonix valley stretched out below like something from a painting—but he barely registered it. His heart was doing its best to punch out of his chest.

Lorenz stood a few feet away, completely unbothered, sipping from a soft flask of water like this had been a warm-up jog.

“Nice pace,” he said, not even winded. “I thought I might have to carry you for the last stretch, but you powered through.”

“Don’t flatter me,” Tristan muttered. “It’s just pride. And spite.”

“Spite’s underrated,” Lorenz said. “It’s fueled some of my best races.”

Tristan managed to straighten. The cold air at this altitude bit at his throat, but the burn felt earned.

“I’m about to die here, Lorenz. I think you’ve successfully stopped me from over-thinking things. My brain isn’t even working anymore.”

“Excellent. Job done, then,” Lorenz said, stretching his arms overhead. A grin split his tanned face. “Come on, let’s start down, or Beau will wonder where the hell we went. And remember, if you die on the downhill, I’m not carrying you.”

Tristan snorted at the empty threat. If there was one thing Tristan knew, it was that Lorenz would never leave him behind. Still, he took care with his footing on the snow-covered slope—he’d pushed his body enough for one day.

As the trail wound downward and his body relaxed into the run, the colonel’s words made their way back into his head, the echo more painful than the effects of the run.

“Maybe the colonel is right,” he finally said, voicing his biggest worry. “Maybe the best thing I can do is to let her go, as soon as we know it’s safe for her to go back home. Our lifestyle isn’t exactly suited to relationships.”

“Mine isn’t,” Lorenz agreed easily, “but it looks like some of our friends are making it work.”

Tristan thought of Beau, Alex, Ry, and Hugo. They’d all found love. But still … “They’re all different.”

“Right. They’re all different, Tristan. So are you. So is Lena.” Lorenz slowed his pace a little—not enough to make it obvious, but enough to let Tristan catch up. “I’m not one to give advice, but she cares about you, man. And you’re still walking around like you’ve got to earn the right to breathe near her.”

“Maybe I do.”

“Maybe that’s not your decision to make. You’re allowed to prove the colonel wrong, you know?”

Tristan glanced sideways. The words landed with more weight than he expected. “That’s surprisingly deep,” he said.

Lorenz flipped him the bird without breaking stride. “Don’t get used to it. Come on. I have things to do this afternoon.”