Black Heart (30 page)

"Well, it isn't much," Tristan said, deciding that he'd rather get this over with. He didn't

want to do this, but he'd hurt her and he'd do anything that he could to make things better.

He forced himself to walk up the stairs as dread filled him.

"Don't let me fuck this up," he prayed as he walked towards his room.

He didn't see her as he walked into his room. As he was turning around to leave he

spotted her shoes on the floor. A few feet away from those he spotted her nylons and a few

feet away from those he spotted her pinstriped skirt lying in the doorway of his bathroom.

More than a little curious, he followed the trail of clothing and pushed the bathroom door

open as his eyes followed the rest of the trail to the foot of his tub where the trail ended

with her bra.

He looked up and couldn't help but groan when he spotted Marty surrounded by bubbles

in his tub as she absently twirled a pair of lacy pink panties on her finger. When she saw

him, she gave him a teasing smile as she sent the panties flying in his direction with a simple

flick of her hand. He caught them as he leaned back against the doorframe.

"I thought you wanted to talk," he said, wondering just how much she was going to want

to know and if he could give it to her.

"Not unless you do," she said with a shake of her head as she leaned back against the

tiled wall and closed her eyes.

"I don't," he admitted softly.

"Then we won't talk," she simply said.

"Then what do you want to do?" he asked, wondering where they were supposed to go

from here. Thankfully, Marty had an idea.

"You could start by getting me a beer," she said in a teasing tone that relaxed something

deep inside of him.

"A beer?" he repeated, wondering how he managed to win over a woman that he clearly

didn't deserve.

"Mmmmhmmmm, ice cold," she said with a cute little sigh as she settled more

comfortably into the tub.

"I think I can handle that."

-
-
-

"Help me, please!" a woman cried, startling Marty wide-awake.

She frantically looked around the large bathroom, but didn't see anything. After a

moment she nervously laughed it off even as she strained her ears for a television or a radio,

anything to explain the fluttering in her chest and the tiny hairs standing at attention on the

back of her neck.

After a moment she shook it off. She'd obviously been dreaming, she told herself, feeling

foolish. She laid back in the tub and just started to relax when she heard movement in the

bedroom.

"Tristan?" she said, wondering what was wrong with her and why she was reacting so

strongly to a dream.

"Sorry it took so long. Mom called and wanted to know if we wanted her to bring over

some food," he said, chuckling while he walked into the room, carrying two longneck

bottles of beer as self-preservation kicked in and made her forget all about the strange

dream.

"You told her no, right?" she asked, already moving to climb out of the tub and make a

run for it just in case. She really didn't think that she could take anymore of Beth's meddling

tonight.

"I did," he said, sighing as he handed her a beer. "It took a while and my father's help to

get her to listen," he explained as he pulled his holster off his belt and placed it on the

counter.

"So, she's not coming here?" Marty clarified, knowing the woman would probably

embarrass the living hell out of them with more questions and suggestions.

"No, but you should probably know that Denny tried screwing us over by sending her

over here so that he could make his escape," he said, chuckling as he toed off his shoes.

"That rat bastard," she muttered, twisting the cap off her beer and taking a small sip.

"Yes, he is," Tristan agreed with a grin as he yanked off his shirt and revealed an

incredible chest, but that's not what had Marty hungrily licking her lips. It was that smile of

his, that bad boy-relaxed-make-her-blood-boil smile of his. He didn't smile nearly enough,

but she was glad that the stressed expression that he wore earlier was gone. As she watched

him remove his pants, she couldn't help but wonder if that smile was because of her.

"We won't have to worry about anyone bothering us for a while," Tristan murmured

absently as he moved to place his pants on the counter, but after a slight hesitation and a

nervous look, he placed his pants on the floor by the tub. It was a little odd, but nothing

worth mentioning.

"Why?" she asked, wondering if he truly knew his mother at all. If Beth was determined

to come over here, then she was damn well going to-

"They'll be busy for a while helping Denny," Tristan said offhandedly as he pulled his

underwear down and raised the temperature of the room by a good ten degrees.

"What happened to Denny?" she somehow managed to ask as her eyes ate up every last

inch of him. The man truly was magnificent. She wanted to run her hands over his muscles,

kiss his scars better and trace his tattoos with her tongue.

"A freak accident," Tristan said, sounding unconcerned as he grabbed his beer and

walked over to the bathtub. With a smile, he took a sip of his beer as he gestured lazily for

her to move forward.

"Is he okay?" she asked, worrying her bottom lip as she moved forward, noticing for the

first time that the water was barely lukewarm. Just how long had she dozed off for? she

wondered when Tristan climbed in behind her and hissed as he sat down.

"I guess I was gone longer than I thought," Tristan said as he wrapped an arm around her

waist and gently pulled her back against him.

"You were gone?" she asked, carefully setting her beer on the side of the tub.

"Mmmhmm," he said, taking a sip of his beer as she enjoyed the feel of him against her

back. She could lay in his arms forever.

"Did they call you to help Denny?" she asked, placing her arms over his where it rested

across her stomach.

He chuckled as he pressed as a kiss against her neck. "No, his unfortunate accident

happened while I was over there getting something out of my old room," he explained.

"You left to get something out of your old room?" she asked, hoping that she didn't

sound as hurt as she felt.

"I only left to get something for you, baby. I would have been quicker, but Denny saw

me sneak inside the house and decided to try and sell my ass down the river to distract

Mom."

As curious as she was about what he had for her, she was even more curious about

Denny. "Tristan?"

"Hmm?" he asked, placing his beer on the side of the tub next to hers before reaching

down for his pants.

"What happened to Denny?"

"Nothing important," Tristan murmured as he searched around for something. "He just

suddenly found himself tied up."

"Tied up?" she asked, feeling her lips twitch as she leaned her head back and to the side

so that she could look up at him.

"Well, maybe handcuffed and hanging out the window would be a better description," he

said, planting a quick kiss against her lips before shifting to look over the side of the tub to

see what he was doing.

She laughed as she turned in his arms so that she could lay her head against his chest,

careful of his shoulder. "Please tell me that you didn't really do that to poor Denny."

"Had to," he mumbled as he continued his search.

"And why is that?"

"Because," he said, turning his attention back to her as he picked up her left hand and

slid something on her finger, "he was keeping me from you and I didn't want to spend one

more minute on this earth without you, Marty. Marry me?"

For a moment she could only stare at the beautiful diamond ring on her finger. It took

her a second before she could remember where she’d seen this ring before. It was the ring

his grandmother left him when he was fifteen. She'd been a child the last time she saw it,

but she'd dreamed of wearing it one day and now she was.

"I know that I've screwed up in the past and that I'm probably rushing this, Marty, but I

just can't stomach the idea of going one more day without making you mine," he said as he

entwined their fingers together. "Please give me a chance."

This was insane, she told herself as she looked down at the ring on her finger. They

hadn't dated and they'd only been together for a day, two tops, but what was even crazier

was the fact that she wanted to say yes, more like scream it. He couldn't be serious, she

thought as she looked up and met his eyes and just like that she knew that he was dead

serious and she was lost.

"I don't want to waste another minute, Marty," he said softly as he leaned in and brushed

his lips against hers. "Say yes."

"Are you still going to be an asshole?" she asked, desperately trying to buy some time to

think clearly.

"Yes," he said with absolutely no hesitation, "but you can kick my ass if I step out of

line."

"Marriage is forever," she stupidly pointed out as she felt something close to panic claw

at her chest.

"And that's how long I plan on loving you, Marty," he said as he leaned in and kissed

her.

“B-but I haven’t even told you that I love you yet!”

He chuckled as he brushed his lips against hers. “I don’t need to hear it.”

“Damn you’re cocky,” she sighed against his lips, loving the way his lips felt against hers

as they curled up.

“Yes, but you love me anyway.”

With a soft groan, she admitted it. “I do love you, Tristan, even if you piss me off.”

“Then that’s all that matters, Marty,” he said before deepening the kiss.

There was so much that they needed to talk about, so much that she didn't know about

this man. Her parents had rushed into marriage and the results had been disastrous. They'd

barely known each other and only found out too late that they had nothing in common and

no future. She didn't want that and she sure as hell didn't want the man that she loved hating

her one day.

Saying yes to him would be foolish and she was not a foolish person.

Chapter
24

One month later
.......

"I really don't see why yer so angry," Shayne mused as he leaned back in the overstuffed

recliner that he’d demanded Tristan buy for him so that he could watch
Gilligan's Island
in

comfort.

Breathe in. Breathe out
, Tristan told himself as he clenched and unclenched his hands,

struggling against the urge to strangle his friend.

"It's hardly my fault that Marty is pissed at ye, lad," Shayne pointed out with a shrug as

he focused on some lame ass 80's monster movie.

"She's. Not. Pissed. At. Me," Tristan bit out through clenched teeth.

Shayne sighed heavily as he shook his head, shooting Tristan a pitying look. "Lad, when

are ye gonna learn that when a woman is screaming at ye that yer in deep shit?"

He had to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he answered, truly afraid that he'd

do something that he'd regret....eventually.

"For the last time," he said tightly, opening his eyes, "she wasn't screaming at me."

"I could hear her all the way down here, lad. She sounded pretty pissed if ye ask me."

"She wasn't screaming at me, you asshole! She was screaming my name!" Tristan

snapped.

"Yes," Shayne agreed slowly as if he were speaking with a small, confused child, "as she

yelled at ye, lad. I'm thinking that after a month of her screaming at ye like that, that ye'd

finally get the hint and move on. Ye really should take the hint, lad. It's kind of pathetic at

this point."

"For the last time," he ground out, "my wife wasn't screaming at me because she was

mad at me, you jackass! She was screaming my name while I was making love to her!"

Shayne frowned up at him. "And ye actually stopped just to come down here and tell me

that?"

"No, what I came down here to tell you was that another one slipped by you," Tristan

said tightly as he jerked a thumb in the direction of the dumb dead bastard who actually had

the balls to ask if he could take over Tristan's body so that he could "Get some of that."

Up until that point, Tristan had been able to ignore the bastard's presence, but the

moment the man had laid his hands on him to try and take over, which wasn't possible, he

lost it. The ice-cold pain and anguish that seeped into his skin made it difficult to focus on

anything other than getting the bastard out of the room and away from Marty. When she

managed to ask him why he'd stopped, he was forced to tell her that he heard something

downstairs, again.

If it wasn't for their family's tendency to let themselves in and make themselves at home,