Uncut (Unexpected Book 4) (68 page)

I
prop my head on one arm, while the other hugs Thea’s sleepy body against mine. We’ve had a busy week. She’s starting to switch around her schedule so we can concentrate on our new venture. Screenwriting—as a team. She’s going to work Tuesdays through Thursdays for Pops, and the rest of the week she’s mine. Thea and I have a lot of plans in motion. Our own personal life is progressing fast. Yet there’s one thing that we have to discuss.
Him.

“You’re awake,” she whispers, her face moving closer to mine. Her eyes run over my face, assessing me. “And something has you worried. What’s wrong, Mattie?”

Leaning down I drop a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Do you think we should talk about it?”

Thea clears her curls away from her face and watches me while smiling. “Okay? That’s usually my line.” She grins, giving me a peck on the lips. “You sure? Two days ago we both agreed we’d sleep on it.”

“Technically one,” I correct her. “He came on Thursday, it’s Saturday morning.” She rolls her eyes while shaking her head. “Yesterday I went to visit Pria; she’s his PR person now. She gave me a run-down about his business. Apparently Tristan changed.” Thea prompts me to continue with a nod.

“He knows that we tied the knot. It crushed him, baby. It wasn’t my intention, but it did . . . and it hurt to see him suffer because we’re happy.”

My jaw tenses with that thought, because I know him, and I know how easily he gives up. Although, it is difficult to convince myself that this is for the best. We lost the fearful guy who was too afraid to be who he really was, but then he went and became a better man.

Her delicate hands reach for my face and caress my jaw. “Look on the bright side of the story,” she offers. “He’s thriving. Remember the press conference? Tristan isn’t ours.” She bites her lip, taking a few sips of air. “But we can celebrate and be proud of him. Maybe someday soon, he’ll find a woman, or a man who will love him—or both.”

Her eyes fill with moisture, and she rests her head on my chest. I readjust myself and embrace her body against mine. “I love you, Butterfly.”

“Make love to me, Mattie. I need to feel you closer,” she whispers. “Remind me how great we are together—just the two of us.” She doesn’t have to ask twice. I possess her mouth with a desperate kiss. A kiss that’s trying to forget him, while trying to erase him from her mind.

I step outside the house with my iPad and a cup of tea. Matt set the fire pit for me. He’s working on some song that’s just not coming together. Something he wants to have ready for next month. As we have a few hours to lounge before Sunday dinner, I opt to read.

“It turned out better than I imagined. The house.” The low voice comes closer to me. In my peripheral vision, I spot a muscular torso covered with a long-sleeved button-down shirt and a pair of jeans wrapping his legs. My breath hitches. How did he get in? “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

My fingers tap on the screen, sending an urgent text to Matt.

Butterfly: He’s here, and I can’t handle him alone. Not today.

Yesterday Matt and I discussed Tristan, how proud we were of him. The new version of a businessman fighting for the rights of others. Standing up for his beliefs, while supporting a cause. We also agreed that in the remote case he came back, we’ll make it clear that we’re over—together. Matt has endured his doubts twice. The second almost killed him. I did once and I barely made it through. Yet yesterday afternoon, a deliveryman dropped a box filled with different shapes and forms of owls and butterflies along with a note.

Each time I spotted one, I thought of you.

I’m sorry for the pain I caused.

Please forgive me.

Love you both,

Coop.

Part of that collection included the picture of a tattooed chest. A lilac butterfly flutters around a tree, and closer to it an owl stands still on a branch. We both concluded it was Coop’s chest. He had tattooed himself—with us. Then Pria, who’s been avoiding me since Thursday, sent me a text.
Forgiveness is the key. Don’t forget to do what makes you happy. I’m here to catch you—always.

She’s in cahoots with him, isn’t she? “Pria, she let you in, didn’t she?” I finally find my voice.

“No, I went to visit Chris and Gabe,” he responds. “It’s Sunday dinner at their house. Remember?” Family dinner, I want to say out loud. A day when the
family
comes together to share a meal, talk about the week, and just have a great time with the ones we love. But before I remind him that he stopped being family, he speaks. “Family is forever, Thea. I fucked up, but they forgave me. Because I’m part of the Deckers.”

“Why are you here?” Matt’s cautious voice vibrates inside my chest, and his hand squeezes my shoulder once he reaches me. “We said our goodbyes. Didn’t think there was anything else left for you here.”

“But there is.” Tristan brushes his hands together as if warming them up. “Thea can say that I don’t belong as many times as she wants, but that doesn’t make it the truth. You can tell me there’s nothing left for me, but there’s plenty.” He steps closer to us. “My heart damn knows it because the chain that bound us together is still holding strong.” His eyes find mine. “You know that, Thea; I belong to you both. Life is what you make of it. I fucked up. I know I did. And I had to live with that. But, I’m willing to fight for who I love. You.” His eyes move to Matt. “I’m asking for a second chance, and I’ll do it for as long as I live.”

“Coop,” Matt says, releasing a breath before scrubbing his face. “Stop, I beg you to stop this shit. We barely survived the last time. We can’t take another hit.”

“You won’t have to,” he says, leveling a look at both of us. A
no bullshit
look. “Leaving you . . . that was a mistake—the biggest mistake of my life. From this point forward we, as a unit, will make the decisions. We’ll fight together. Just give me a second chance, and I’ll show you. No more hiding who I am or who I love. I’m proud of who I am. I’m proud of who I love. Trust me, please.” His eyes close for a few moments. “Fight with me, believe in me as much as I believe in you.”

Tears run down my face as I hear his pleading voice begging for us to take him back. He’s being honest. I feel it in my heart, in my soul. Never before had he promised something like this.
Shit, can we trust him again?

Matt squeezes my hand. I look up and his troubled blue eyes are asking the same thing mine are. But we still have our doubts. “Maybe if you give us some time, Coop. Things aren’t . . . as easy anymore.”

Tristan nods. “I can do that.” He pulls out his business card and sets it on the patio table. “Here is where I’m staying for now. Just don’t be surprised if I drop by tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. Every day until you forgive me.” His gaze drops as he spins around and walks toward my in-laws’ home.

Matt sits right next to me. I climb on his lap and embrace him. “What do you think, baby? We both know he’s being honest,” he murmurs in my ear. I nod, but don’t answer what I think. I don’t want to voice it yet. “We both love him—and miss him. This is a hard decision. It’d be so much safer to stay just us, than to even consider giving him a second chance.”

Everybody deserves a second chance. Tristan does, our love does.

I look Matt squarely in the eye and take his face in my hands. “It would be safer, Mattie . . .”

We exchange a look, one of our looks where we can communicate wordlessly. Only this time, his morphs into an adorable—yet a little mischievous—smile. “Fly along with me, Butterfly. Let’s take that leap of faith.” His voice travels through my blood, my heart, and reaches my soul. “If he—”

I clear my quickly forming tears with the sleeves of my sweater. “No, don’t say that.” I kiss him lightly. “We have to have faith in him—in us.”

We don’t need to verbalize the words. We have a wonderful relationship with each other, but we both mourn the loss of our completing unit.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps it a couple times. “Hey, Dad, is Coop still there?” His eyes narrow. “Really . . . Well then, we’re coming up there. Dad, I love you.”

I crank my neck to look at him.

“Ready, babe?”

I nod.

“Last chance to say stop if you don’t want to.”

I smile. “I want to.” I choke with my own tears. Damn the waterworks are hitting me hard today. “He’s ours, he belongs to us—with us. Let’s go get him.”

Come back to me,
I beg under my breath as I leave their house. My chest constricts and I can barely put one foot next to the other.
It wasn’t a no
, I repeat as I drag my heavy legs across the lawn. My chest tightens as the memory of their pained eyes flashes back at me. Shit, what did I do to them? If I’d have known . . . I had no idea at the time I was capable of doing such damage to either one of them. What a complete and total fool I have been.

There’s no need for regrets. I have plenty of time to convince them that I’m the man who loves them. That I’ve worked hard to become the man who I am today, and that I’ll work harder to be deserving of them. Yet, the small walk from their house to the Deckers’ feels like a long, deserted highway. Thea’s tears broke me, and I wanted so badly to hold her against my chest, reassure her that everything would be okay. But I can’t force them to trust me, not after what I put them through.