Chapter 15

AFTER A SHITTY NIGHT’S sleep, Tristan woke in a foul temper—big surprise. Instead of the recurring nightmares from his past, he dreamt erotic dreams all starring Piper, which is why he also woke with a hard-on. He took care of himself in the shower. But when he still couldn’t get the scene in the cell out of his head, he gave Keiran a call.

He answered on the fourth ring. “Finnegan, here.”

“It’s Tristan. Do you have someone who can take the new case assigned to me? I need to leave town for a few days.”

“To Santa Barbara?” his boss and longtime friend guessed correctly. “Are there problems?”

Only Keiran and Cap, the CEO of the Rossi Group, were aware of his commitment. He had made it clear it was a priority before joining the company. However, he usually scheduled his visits for weekends and well in advance.

“No problems, but I am due for some time off.”

“Past due, you mean. You have so much PTO banked, you could take an entire month off and barely make a dent in it.”

He rarely took vacations. He would rather work as it occupied his time and his mind. Downtime gave him too much time to think. So, refusing an assignment gnawed at him, especially since it was last minute. He had to get away for a while, however.

“I don’t want to leave you in the lurch.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get it covered,” Keiran assured him.

“Thanks.” He was about to end the call, but his friend wasn’t quite finished.

“Eric mentioned you had an issue with one of our guests last night, someone Rossi is associated with. Is there anything I should know?”

Of course, Eric had shared. He was more of a mother hen than Keiran. “My taking off has nothing to do with the club or the case.”

Technically, this was true, but just barely.

There was silence on the other end, as his boss, friend, and business partner waited for more information. Tristan had no intention of providing it. Not now, maybe never. Keiran should be used to this from him after two years.

“All right,” he said, breaking the silence. “Check in when you get back. The office has been a revolving door of new clients this week.”

“Fine with me. You know I like to stay busy.”

“I do. Safe travels.”

With a two-hour drive ahead of him, Tristan grabbed his duffel and was out the door. Midmorning traffic was light, and it wasn’t long before he left LA behind and merged north on the 101 in Ventura. With a long stretch of highway in front of him, he could either admire the view of the Pacific gleaming in the sun or think. Since he had made this trek once a month for years, it ended up being the latter.

He’d never intended getting involved with Piper. But leaving her to explore at a public club with five-feet-nothing Josie wasn’t an option.

“Wingman, my ass,” he muttered as he switched lanes to get around a slow truck on an incline.

To satisfy her curiosity, he’d given her what she came for—cuffs so she could feel the restriction of restraints and a light flogging over her clothes. At least, that was his plan. But the velvety texture of her skin, the seductive sounds escaping her lips, the longing in her eyes, and his complete lack of self-restraint shattered his noble intentions.

He could have taken her, and may well have, if not for the poorly timed bang on the door. Her whimper of disappointment was nearly his undoing. On her first foray into BDSM, he couldn’t leave her teetering on the edge. More so, he hadn’t wanted to. He longed to hold her, kiss her, caress her incredibly responsive body, and feel her shatter in his arms.

“Mission accomplished,” he whispered. “Except now I want her even more.”

Shifting on the leather seat, he tried to ease the constriction in the front of his jeans. He also flipped the AC on high. Neither helped. He had another hour to go. Enough time for his body to calm down. But unfortunately, as a responsible dom, he had something he had to do, and a promise to keep.

“Fuck!” he shouted at the windshield right before he pulled out his phone and dialed Piper.

Set to speaker and driving hands-free, he counted the rings. Maybe she was working and wouldn’t answer.

“Hi, Tristan.”

Damn. Just the way she said his name, sweet yet sultry, made him want her. He cleared his throat while shifting again. “I was calling to check in. How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, I guess.”

“ I guess isn’t overly convincing. Are you having any pain?”

“None. I’m not sore at all.”

“Good. What are your plans for the day?”

“I have two closings scheduled. The first was at 8 a.m. What’s this about?”

“As I explained yesterday, sometimes after a scene, there are lingering effects caused by a change in your body’s neurochemicals.”

“Like endorphins?”

“Yes. Also, adrenaline and a few others that build during an intense scene. They’re a big part of why BDSM feels good. But what goes up has to come down. It can cause physical symptoms that feel like the flu, and the letdown can leave you feeling tired, sad, or anxious. It’s what we call sub drop and sometimes can last for a day or two.”

She didn’t speak for a second or two, as if processing what he said. “I don’t think I dropped. I’m feeling pretty good, actually.”

“No irritability, fatigue, or depression?”

“Maybe a little fatigue,” she said, hesitantly. “I mentioned the 8 a.m. closing. I usually don’t start until nine.” She brushed it off, adding more brightly, “Nothing a second cup of coffee won’t fix. I’m fine, Tristan. Really. But I appreciate you checking up on me.”

“I said I would.”

“I appreciate a man who keeps his promises,” she replied playfully, his cue to wrap things up.

“I’m driving. I should go.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.”

He could hear her disappointment loud and clear, proving he was the jerk she accused him of being.

“Goodbye, Piper.”

He ended the call and dropped his phone onto the seat beside him. A second later, frustration overcame him, and he pounded the steering wheel with his fist. Maybe Axyl was right. Maybe he should see a counselor.

AS SOON AS HE SET FOOT on the porch, the screen door creaked open. Tristan braced himself for impact as a lanky nine-year-old body hurtled toward him.

“I knew you’d come!” AJ exclaimed.

Catching him easily, Tristan hugged him back when his skinny arms wrapped around his waist.

“Your team is in the playoffs, champ. I wouldn’t miss it for all the money in the world.”

The screen door creaked open once more. When he looked up, Lydia greeted him with a smile. “Hey, Tris. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“I hope you don’t mind. A case wrapped up early. I thought I’d get a jump start on that to-do list you mentioned the last time we talked.” He ruffled AJ’s unkempt hair. “In between games, of course.”

“I had a feeling you’d be here today. I told Mom at breakfast, but she didn’t believe me. Told you so, Mom!” AJ crowed.

“What was I thinking, not listening to the soothsayer?” she said teasingly.

“Sooth what?” the boy asked, finally releasing him to turn toward his mother. “Is that English?”

“It means someone who can tell the future. Now get out of Tristan’s way so he can come into the house.”

He did as he was told, but followed on his heels, asking excitedly, “Want to play catch? My new glove is finally broken in.”

“Sounds good,” he replied.

“Let him catch his breath, AJ. He just got here.” Lydia pushed the screen door wider and waved him in. “I have something on the stove. Come in and make yourself at home.”

He didn’t notice the apron until she mentioned the stove, but he would have known something was cooking from the glorious smell as soon as he stepped into the house. After a weekend of Lydia’s cooking, he always left a pound or two heavier.

“Can I get you a beer? Or is it too early?”

“Ice water is fine. But I can get it.”

“No, sir. You sit, and let me serve you,” she said before disappearing into the kitchen.

Those words usually stirred his dominant juices. Spoken by a woman who was like a sister to him, and he knew for a fact was vanilla, they didn’t elicit so much as a spark.

He heard footsteps then her head appeared as she peeked around the doorjamb. “How long are you staying?”

“Through Sunday. That’s when AJ’s tournament ends, right?”

“If they make it that far. He’s got a game at six today and two tomorrow, then we’ll see. But I don’t want you spending your time off drudging for me. You should relax, maybe hit the beach. AJ is dying to show you the progress he’s made on his windsurfing.”

“Can we?” he asked, positively brimming with excitement. “I hardly fall anymore. It’s not riding twenty-foot curls like you do, but when my friends saw how fun it was, they all wanted boards.”

“Sure, we can. I’ll tackle the repairs on your mom’s list tonight.”

“Cool!”

“Lunch is almost ready. Go wash up,” she told him, before disappearing again.

Despite his appearance, AJ was never one to skip a meal or miss a snack. He did as his mother asked and dashed down the hallway, making enough noise for a herd of nine-year-olds rather than just one.

Lydia emerged from the kitchen with his drink in hand. “I appreciate your offer to be my maintenance man, Tris, but I can call someone. Really.”

“I’m happy to do it. Besides, you know me. I can’t sit still and never sleep, so I might as well help out while I’m here.”

Her smile faded. “You’re still not sleeping? Have you seen someone?”

“Don’t start, Lydia,” he softly insisted.

“I can’t help it. I worry.”

“I don’t want you to. You have enough on your plate.”

An alarm went off in the kitchen. “Sit and unwind after your drive. Lunch should be ready in ten minutes.” Walking away, she delivered some good news. “I made calzones, your absolute favorite. How’s that for a coincidence?”

“AJ must get his soothsaying from his mother,” he teased.

“He must,” she agreed with a grin as bright as the sun streaming in through the window behind her. Then she vanished into the kitchen once more.

As Tristan gazed after her, a sudden realization washed over him. Tall, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile that could light up a room, Lydia bore a striking resemblance to Piper. Not just in looks but personality. Both women possessed an inherent sweetness and vulnerability he wanted to shield from the harshness of the world—himself included. It explained his visceral reaction to Piper, but not his intense desire for a girl who was the spitting image of his dead best friend’s wife.

He should have run to a shrink then and there. Instead, he tipped his glass up and drained it.

After the drive, sitting was the last thing he wanted to do, so he moved around her living room, taking in several new framed photos. Lydia decorated with pictures of friends and family. The mantel was so jam-packed with them, he didn’t think she could squeeze in another. He picked up the one in the center of her and Nolan on their wedding day.

Lydia always had a spark for life, and her eyes were filled with hope for the future that long-ago day. That spark had dimmed with the death of her husband, but it hadn’t extinguished. She had AJ to take care of.

She hid it well from her son, but Tristan could see the pain of her loss and grief. He felt it too, and the unfairness. Every time he walked into his best friend’s house and he wasn’t there to greet him was like a punch in the gut. Nolan should be the one fixing a loose gutter, getting a kiss on the cheek from his wife, and teaching AJ, who would be ten in a month, to windsurf. It should be Nolan playing catch with him, cheering him on from the stands at his ballgames, and shooting hoops with him in the driveway. Instead, he was gone, taken in an endless violent conflict on the other side of the world.

He tried to pick up the slack for Lydia, who’d never remarried, and with AJ, who wasn’t old enough to remember his dad. But he paled in comparison to the real thing.

Lydia joined him in the living room, cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen. She collapsed onto the couch, letting out a deep sigh. “Ten more minutes. It’s still doughy. You’d better add replacing the oven elements to your list.” She patted the cushion beside her and invited, “Sit and catch me up.”

“My life is the same. I was going to ask the same of you.”

Once he was seated, she turned to face him. “There is something I need to tell you.” After a brief pause, she revealed, “I’ve started seeing someone.”

He nodded in response but said nothing. It would be strange seeing her with someone other than Nolan.

“You’re not surprised?” she questioned.

“After eight years, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Is it serious?”

“We’re taking it slow, for AJ’s sake. He hasn’t proposed, but we talk about a future together a lot. I think that’s where we’re headed.”

“Is he good with AJ?”

She gripped his hand. “Yes, but he won’t replace you. He’ll always love his uncle Tristan. You are his connection to his dad.”

That was a gut punch he wasn’t expecting. “Did he tell you that?”

Her grip tightened. “Yeah. He’s a typical goofy kid most of the time, and full of energy, but he has quiet times where he comes up with things that floor me.”

“What’s Romeo’s name?”

She bumped him with her shoulder in gentle rebuke before answering, “Jerome Wilder. He’s the business manager at a construction company.”

“I was close.”

She glanced at him in question.

His reply of “Jeromeo,” earned her soft laughter. “If he’s in construction, I can bequeath him the honey-do list.”

“His friends call him Jerry. So do I, and he doesn’t do the construction. He handles payroll and benefits, orders the supplies, and pays the bills, but he knows how to wield a hammer.” Lydia nudged him again. “Bet you’re relieved.”

He shrugged. “I’ve never minded, except for the fact it was me doing it and not Nolan.”

“Yeah,” she breathed.

They sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts for a moment. Then she asked an often-heard question lately. “When do you think you’ll be able to move on, Tris?”

His response was similar to what he’d told Eric and Axyl, but considerably more polite. “I’m content with my life.”

She let out an indelicate snort. “I could be content with a baloney sandwich for lunch, but calzone makes me happy. Deep down, I know Nolan wouldn’t have wanted me to wallow in sadness and loneliness for the rest of my life. And he wouldn’t have wanted that for you either. What happened sucks, but our suffering won’t bring him back.” She gripped his hands firmly. “I know how you feel. Believe me. But I’m pleading with you, Tristan. Shoo away the dark cloud of grief following you everywhere. It’s time to let the sunshine back into your life.”

He jerked. Did she know about Piper?

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just... Nothing.”

“Please say you’ll think about what I said.”

A heartbeat passed before he answered, “I will.”

“Your hesitation tells me you won’t. You’re one of the best men I know—honorable, hardworking, and family to me and AJ—but you’re also the stubbornest.”

The oven alarm sounded again. She leaned in and kissed his cheek before standing. “Let’s eat and go to a ballgame,” she said on her way to the kitchen. “AJ. Lunch!”