Read Tristan (The Kendall Family #1) Online

Authors: Randi Everheart

Tags: #romance

Tristan (The Kendall Family #1) (5 page)

Chloe laid a palm on his arm, trying not to get sauce on his sleeve. “Of course we did, Tristan. We wanted you to be happy.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“I understand,” said Quinn. “I had all of you looking to me to make decisions and I had to rise up to be that sort of man, to look out for you guys and all that Mom and Dad left in my care. It was a big responsibility and it scared the shit out of me, to be honest. I didn’t let on then, to prevent you from worrying. Only Kris really knew.”

Tristan asked, “Is that why you two are so close?”

“Yeah, sort of. Anyway, I know you guys think I made you, and in many ways you’re right, but all of you made me what I am.”

Tristan looked at him in surprise, pleased to think he’d helped make his brother the man he so admired. Quinn had certainly helped inspire Tristan to be the man he’d become, whatever that was. Tristan wasn’t so sure himself yet. He was only twenty-three and didn’t yet consider himself on the same level as Quinn or Riley, both of whom exuded a sense of being able to handle anything.

Connor broke into his thoughts by asking, “So what kind of charity work do you do with kids?”

“Visiting them in the hospital,” Tristan said, “doing the Make-A-Wish Foundation stuff, putting on little stunt shows for them. I also teach safety lessons so they don’t think biking’s all fun and games. The last thing I want is some kid getting into this sport over me and then getting hurt because they neglected the basics.”

“You’re all grown up now,” said Chloe, teasing. “You would’ve been a great father.”

Thinking that was an odd remark, he asked, “What do you mean? I can still can be. I just haven’t met the right woman.” His mind drifted to Victoria.

Chloe saw the look. “Are you sure? It’s too bad you two didn’t go through with it, by the look of things.”

“Through with what? What are you talking about, Chloe?”

“The baby,” she answered, before sudden realization made her go pale. His widened eyes confirmed his ignorance. “Oh, my God, you didn’t know.”

Tristan sat mutely, so many implications running through his head that he couldn’t complete a thought. He stood up roughly, swaying enough that he gripped the table edge for support and Quinn had to lay a steadying hand on him. Chloe sat with both hands over her mouth, eyes darting from one brother to another.

“Breathe, Tristan,” said Quinn. “C’mon buddy. Breathe.”

Chapter 5 – Intrusion

How much time passed before Tristan realized he was sitting down again, he didn’t know. Snippets of words caught his ears, and he wanted to answer them amidst the noise rushing around his head, but the responses didn’t come.

He came to his senses to find Quinn behind him, big hands firmly holding him down on the chair by the shoulders. Connor sat to one side, a range of emotions on his face, concern for his baby brother chief among them. And Chloe still sat with eyes wide, her sauce-covered fingers over her mouth and nose, both of which had been smeared with it. When she pulled her hands down, Tristan saw a big dollop of BBQ sauce on the tip of her nose. The silliness of it, coupled with her serious expression, made him start laughing. It was a deep laugh, a belly laugh, and everyone seemed to relax. Quinn gave him a squeeze on the shoulder and resumed his seat.

Tristan let out a big breath and didn’t know where to begin until the obvious question came out of his mouth. “My God, Chloe, why didn’t you tell me? Are you sure?”

Looking guilty, she wiped the sauce off her nose and admitted, “Yes, and I thought you knew.”

He shook his head, eyes a million miles away. “No.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not something a girl usually hides from the guy. She’s so honest, too. I just never thought...”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t your responsibility to tell me.”

She made a face. “Yeah, but I probably should’ve said something.”

Tristan waved away her concern, but Connor asked, “Why didn’t you? You didn’t mention it even to Kris?”

“No,” Chloe said. “I figured if Tristan wanted us to know, he would’ve told us. I didn’t want to butt in. I thought he might feel awkward if I’d found out when he hadn’t wanted me to. I thought there was a reason he hadn’t told us.”

Tristan nodded slowly, not really knowing how he would’ve felt. He was too stunned. It didn’t matter really.

Connor asked, “Did you think the rest of us knew?”

“No. I asked you guys a couple questions about why you thought they broke up, and no one seemed to think something like that was going on.”

Quinn observed without judgment, “You know, you sort of lied to all of us. Sin of omission.”

Chloe sighed. “Yeah, I’m sorry, but it wasn’t my right to tell you if Tristan hadn’t, was it?”

Quinn conceded that with a nod. “Point taken.”

She added, “I wasn’t sure what to do and just kept my mouth shut.”

“Until today,” muttered Tristan. Then something occurred to him. “So you thought I knew she was pregnant when I broke up with her, and that I broke up with her anyway?”

She gave him a guilty look. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I would never do that.” Tristan looked her in the eye then. “You know I would never do that, right?”

Chloe bit her lip, since that’s exactly what she had believed.

“Wow,” Tristan began, looking away, “I can’t believe you thought I’d do that. That I’d make her raise the baby alone, that I’d abandon my own kid.”

“Tristan, I never thought—”

“How could you not?”

She went quiet, and guilt turned her crimson. Tears sprang to her eyes. She couldn’t bear to see the pain in Tristan’s eyes and looked away. “I’m so sorry. You were so young. I didn’t think of it any more than that. I just thought you weren’t ready. Who would be at that age? I wasn’t judging. God, Tristan, you must believe me. I’d never judge you like that.”

A whirlwind of thoughts went through his head but he didn’t want to fight with Chloe. Besides, he believed her. He waved it off. “Okay, I’ll let it go.”

Quinn said, “Victoria didn’t tell you then, or today either.”

“No. No, she didn’t. I have a right to know that sort of thing.”

Connor said, “Of course you do.”

“Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

Chloe quietly said, “Ask her, Tristan.”

Quinn said, “Wait a bit before going over there, okay? You’re upset and need to, well, I don’t know, just give it a few minutes. She’s got five years of thinking about this and you haven’t had five minutes.”

“I don’t think I’ll need more than that,” Tristan said. Seeing the glass of wine, he took it and emptied it down his throat. Then he asked Chloe, “How did you find out, anyway?”

Thinking back, Chloe asked, “Remember my friend Lisa? She worked at the clinic. About three months after you left, Victoria came in, but Lisa never really found out why, just that it had something to do with a pregnancy ending. Lisa told me.”

The color drained from Tristan’s face. He hadn’t even had time to wonder what had become of the baby, but from the way Chloe had been talking, he’d gotten the impression the child had never been born. Still, the alternatives hadn’t occurred to him. Appalled by the question he had to ask, he said it anyway. “She had an abortion?”

Chloe opened her mouth and then shut it, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t know, Tristan. The clinic handles other things, too, and an abortion, if that’s what it was, can be had for lots of reasons, not simply choice. I think you need to ask her. Please don’t jump to conclusions. Look at the mess I caused by doing that.”

He nodded, the idea of Victoria purposely ending his baby’s life gnawing a hole in his heart. She couldn’t have. There was no way. If he asked her that, and she said yes…

He’d almost been a father to a little boy or girl. Christ, he didn’t even know which one. And he wouldn’t wait any longer to find out either. He rose.

“Take my car,” said Connor, tossing him the keys.

Tristan caught them and gave them all a look, seeing nothing but concern in their eyes. “I love you guys. It’s good to be back.”

Chloe said, “We love you, too. Tristan. Give her the benefit of the doubt, and be nice, until you know the truth. And even then,” she added.

He nodded, glad for their support, and left, having decided not to heed Quinn’s advice to wait. He needed to know now.

 

* * *

 

As moonlight crept across the room, Victoria lay face up and nude on her bed in the master bedroom, the pale light making her alabaster skin seem fragile and delicate. She felt that way, too, remembering the day’s events. The day had started peacefully enough, but then that frightening accident had shaken her and left bruises she’d only felt hours later. She’d exuded defiance at the time, mostly to bolster herself, but the accident had scared the shit out of her. The last thing she wanted was to die on a bike like her father had. Like Tristan might.

He couldn’t do it now, though. His bike was parked out back, visible through the open window. A breeze fluttered the silk curtains. She smiled, amused by her theft, partly because, knowing she’d give the bike back, she didn’t take the deed seriously. He hadn’t seen that one coming. In all the time she’d known him, she hadn’t surprised him too many times, really, and she’d been astonished by how much she enjoyed surprising him now. Not at the time though. All she’d been able to think about was getting away from him before he finished stripping away what little resistance she had left. She wouldn’t survive being abandoned by him again, and so she’d closed the door on that possibility.

Part of her had wanted to just dump his bike on the ground instead of parking it, taking out her frustration on it, but she couldn’t bring herself to hurt something he likely loved. But he loved it more than her. That was the crux of the matter. He’d left her for his motorcycle. Not the actual bike, of course, but the life it offered. A life different from the one in her arms, in her pussy, and in her heart. She’d let him into two of those places today, and as incredible as that had been, she was saving the third one for herself.

Or for someone else. Someone who wouldn’t leave her like that. Sure, it was possible another guy could touch her expertly, but no one could ever melt her like Tristan did, and so if another guy left her, it wouldn’t practically kill her. Only the love of your life can destroy you like that, and despite what some people said, she didn’t think it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

She let out a sigh and gazed out the window. Tristan’s saddlebags were still draped over the bike’s rear seat, and she knew he probably wasn’t happy about not having his things, but he’d live. His brothers could lend him whatever he needed, or he could buy it. If not, he’d just be forced to walk around naked.

The image made her smile. An infuriated and naked Tristan Kendall pacing around, that beautiful tool of his swinging with every step, his ass tightly bunched, his abs sashaying side to side, those emerald green eyes smoldering behind stray locks of blonde hair dangling before them. Victoria grew wet between the legs and began touching herself, wishing he was here to do it himself. She hadn’t really gotten a good look at his body today. Not like she wanted. Maybe she’d make him get naked and on all fours when he showed up to get his bike, and grovel for it.

At the thought, her dormant libido, now awakened, sprang to life with wild, carefree ease. She traced a finger along her belly to the firm mounds of her breasts, which she squeezed, sending spikes of pleasure up into her nipples. Moaning deep in her throat, she licked her fingers and then gently pinched each nipple, turning them slowly and wishing Tristan was doing that to her. Her nipples hardened as she began to tug at them, a fire growing in her womanhood.

With one hand, she caressed her inner thigh and gasped as her pussy reacted. Teasing herself, she spread her legs and outlined her outer lips, damp with moisture. She parted her wet folds and found her clit begging for attention. She imagined it was Tristan’s tongue on her sensitive nub, twirling around it. Slickness dampened her fingers before she knew it.

Within minutes of giving herself the attention she desired, she came quietly, softly, but deeply, a low moan escaping her. Dreams of happier times with Tristan filled her mind and heart as she drifted off in a reverie to an early sleep, trying to ignore the realities of her life for a time. Everyone needs a break from the truth. She’d had enough of that for one day.

Sometime later, she awoke to a firm knocking at the front door. The sound had intruded upon her sleep and incorporated itself into her dreams, which gave her the impression it had been going on for some time, accompanied by someone calling her name. But now it stopped. She sat up, feeling vulnerable. Sometimes she heard noises at night, but this was different, and though the knocking had ceased, she felt unnerved and like she should check the house just for her peace of mind. Rising, she took a thin, short robe from a chair and draped it over herself, tying it closed. She likely had nothing to worry about. After all, whoever it was had knocked. That’s not something people up to no good usually do. Or so she thought.

Stepping into the dark, hardwood hallway, Victoria walked past the hall bathroom, her old bedroom, and in between the kitchen and living room, wishing she had a house alarm for times like this. Not that this had happened before. A man in her bed would’ve also come in handy, too, but she could take care of herself pretty well.

She left the lights off, since the knocking had stopped and she now intended to not answer the door, but see who was probably walking away. She assumed they’d be back in their car by now, but on peeking through the little window beside the door, she saw no vehicle out front. She hadn’t heard one pull away, either.

Suddenly she froze. From behind her at the rear of the house, it sounded like a door had creaked open, but she couldn’t be sure. Her breath quickened, but she tried to tell herself it was nothing. She could just run out of the house, but that would be silly unless someone was really there. Protection would be nice just in case, but the gun was in the bedroom, too far to be useful now. The kitchen was closer. She padded over quietly, wishing for an angle to see if anyone was really there.

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