Promise (30 page)

Sheffie!

Sheffie who took me to the park, to the zoo
and out for ice cream. Sheffie who drank my invisible tea, sang
lullabies at bedtime and made the best French toast in the world.
Sheffie who took me for a carousel ride when it was closed and
somehow made it go, playing lively carnival music, my horse sliding
up and down as I squealed with delight and he stood next to me,
making sure I didn't fall off. Sheffie who loved me. Loved me like
a dad. Or so I'd thought.

And then I remembered I
had
seen Mom
cry before. Once.

"Stop! Tristan, stop!" I smacked his
shoulder. He looked back at me. "Stop! Now!"

He stopped and cut the engine at the bottom
of the driveway. Somehow I managed to scramble off the bike and
nearly run up the front walk to the house. Mom and Stefan stopped
just inside the door and turned toward me.

"You son of a bitch!" I screamed. And before
I knew what I was doing, my hand slapped Stefan's face with a loud
smack
! "That's for what you did to my mom. And this one's
for me!"

I raised and swung my hand again, but it was
caught in mid-air.

"Alexis, what the hell?" Tristan asked with
bewilderment.

I stared at Stefan as my chest rose and fell
with anger.

"You want to know why I had such
trust
issues?" I fumed through burning tears. "You want to know what
started it all? Ask him!"

"Stefan?" Tristan still sounded confused.

"Yes! But he was Sheffie to me. And he was
the first one to leave and break my heart."

And I knew it was true when Stefan lowered
his head and sighed sadly. That's why he couldn't look me in the
eye all night. That's why I could feel his guilty conscience.

"You
left
us! You left
me
! You
were the closest thing I ever had to a dad and you left me!"

"Lexi, my love," Tristan pulled me into his
arms and I cried against his chest. "I think you're confused…."

"No. No, she's not," Stefan said, his voice
full of quiet grief. "She remembers right."

I looked at him through my tears and
remembered him clearly now, although I had only been four or five
years old the last time I saw him.

"You were the only boyfriend who cared about
me. Who really
cared
. Not just because I was around and fun
to play with. Not just to impress Mom. Or so I thought. I thought
you really
loved
me."

"Alexis, I did love you," Stefan said
quietly. "I still do."

"But you
left
! And you never came
back!"

"I am so sorry." And I could hear it in his
voice. My anger broke and all I felt was the sadness renewed.

"Honey, Stefan was never really a boyfriend.
He was our protector then," Mom said. "Eventually, he had to move
on to a new assignment. He
had
to go."

"But, you cried when he left, too."

"I cried for you, honey," she said. "Your
little heart broke and you just couldn't understand."

"I deeply regretted doing that to you,"
Stefan said. "As you got older, I hoped you had just
forgotten."

I shook my head. "I didn't forget. I didn't
remember your face, but I never forgot how much I loved you and how
much I cried when you left. I thought I did something wrong."

"It was nothing you did. I didn't have a
choice and when your mom told me how hurt you were, we decided it
was best for me to just stay away. I couldn't be reliable enough
for you." Stefan held his arms open. "Please forgive me?"

I could see sincerest remorse in his dark
eyes. And I somehow knew he'd never meant to hurt me. Maybe it was
the Amadis goodness emanating from him. I don't know how or
why—perhaps the passage of time to heal the wounds or the fact I'd
just survived the worst loss, if only for a couple weeks, I'd ever
experienced—but I couldn't help but forgive him immediately. I left
Tristan's arms and fell into Stefan's.

"Sheffie," I cried into his chest.

"Ali-oop," he murmured, stroking my hair. I'd
forgotten his nickname for me and giggled through my tears. "I am
so sorry."

I nodded against his chest. "I know now. I'm
sorry I slapped you."

"I deserved it." He held me for another
moment then gently pushed me back. "I think you need to get some
rest now."

I wiped the tears on my cheeks, took a deep
breath and stepped back to Tristan. He wrapped his arm around my
waist and I sagged against him. I'd spent every bit of emotional
energy I had and that last bit broke me. I was absolutely
exhausted. I didn't even know how we made it back to Tristan's
house without me falling off the back of the bike.

"You're amazing," Tristan said as he
half-carried me up the stairs to his room. My head lolled against
his side, my eyelids drooping.

"Huh?" I asked through my grogginess.

"You're so forgiving. I think I suffered more
for what Stefan did to you than he did."

I cupped my hand around his face. "I'm sorry
you had to deal with my issues. You did take the brunt of it all
and I love you for that. But I believe Stefan did suffer. I could
see it in his eyes. Life's too short to hold grudges against people
you love."

Tristan chuckled and even through the
exhaustion, I understood.

"Even for us, my sweet Tristan. Love is just
too precious."

***

"You are such a tease," Tristan admonished
the next morning.

I widened my eyes and looked at him
innocently as he pulled a pair of jeans out of a box and hung them
up. "What? I'm just looking for some clothes."

"In
my
closet?"

I smiled impishly. I'd just stepped out of
the shower and had a towel wrapped around me, water drops beaded on
my skin and my hair still dripped. I had panties on already, but he
didn't know that. I
was
being a tease.

"Maybe I like wearing
your
shirts." I
found a plain white t-shirt and pulled it on with one arm while
holding my towel with the other. As I walked out of the closet, I
let the towel fall in the doorway as the t-shirt slid slowly down
to my thighs. I could feel his eyes on me as I left and I grinned
to myself.

I went back to the bathroom to brush my wet
hair. It soaked through the front of the white shirt, making it
transparent, and I debated how mean I wanted to be. But when I
looked up into the mirror, I saw Tristan behind me in the doorway,
watching me with his arms crossed.

"
Why
are you doing this to me?" he
growled.

"What?" I played innocent again. He was
behind me in an instant, his arms wrapped around me and his face
buried in the crook of my neck.

"You're so damn irresistible."

"Oh. Well, you do that to me all the time.
All
you
have to do is smile and wink. I'm just fighting
fair."

"This is hardly fair," he murmured.

His hands slowly moved down my body as he
kissed and sucked my neck. I leaned back into him, feeling his
powerful, warm body tense against my back. I put my hands over his
and pulled his left hand up, across my body to my right breast
while his right hand traveled down my bare thigh and slowly up the
inside of it. I grasped his hand and pulled it away just before he
reached the top, my whole body tingling.

"Hardly fair," I breathed. He pulled back and
groaned in frustration as I turned around and hoisted myself to sit
on the counter. I hooked my fingers in his jeans waistband and
pulled him closer, wrapping my legs around his waist. I trailed my
hands slowly up his abs and chest, up to his face, where I held
him. "We don't
have
to do this to ourselves, you know. We
could probably be married tonight or tomorrow, at least under the
Amadis."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "Why are you
suddenly in such a rush?"

"Because I love you, I'm going to spend the
rest of my life with you anyway and I want to be your
wife
."

He smiled at that last word, but didn't open
his eyes. "Not just because you want my body?"

"Well, that, too," I admitted. I slid my
hands across his chest again.

He opened his eyes, braced my face gently in
his hands and said, "You are incorrigible!"

He stomped out of the bathroom and sat hard
on the bed, his head falling into his hands. I hopped down and
followed.

"What's wrong with me wanting to make love to
you?" I asked.

"Three days ago you hated me," he muttered
into his hands.

My mouth fell open. "I never
hated
you!"

I threw myself back on the bed and stared at
the ceiling.

"You didn't want anything to do with me and
now you're ready to rush off and commit yourself for life."

I shot off the bed and stood in front of him,
lifting his face with my hands and holding his eyes with mine.
"You're damn right I want to commit myself. I made up my mind and
I'm ready now. I know you are, too. If there was ever a time you
would've hurt me, it would've been the other night. You can handle
it now. So what are
you
waiting for? Are you having
commitment issues?"

Pain flickered in his eyes, as if I'd slapped
him. "Of course not! I just don't want you feeling like you have to
rush into anything. You're only nineteen!"

I threw my hands in the air. "Is that your
argument? My
age
? Does it matter how old I am if we already
know we're together forever?"

"I'm just saying there's plenty of time.
Don't feel rushed because of lust or because you think it'll be
safer for me."

"We could have sex right now and I wouldn't
change my mind. And, yes, I would feel better if I knew you had
every protection possible. Even if you don't think you need it, it
would make
me
feel better. You are my life and the thought
of losing you…" My breath hitched with the thought.
"…
horrifies
me! I
need
you, Tristan. Whatever binds
us closer together, I'll do.
Now
. Before it's too late."

He pulled me into his arms and brushed his
lips against my cheek. He lowered his voice to the loveliest of
tones. "Be patient, my love. We're not doing this out of fear or
threats or others' demands. We'll know when the time is right.
Our
terms."

I sighed with frustration. "If
we're
making the decision, it
is
on our terms. But I've made my
decision and now it's up to you. So I guess now it's on
your
terms."

I didn't like giving that to him, but I knew
he wouldn't like it either.

"Alexis," he growled.

I ignored him. I picked up my bag and went
into the bathroom, closing the door this time. I thought I heard
something hit the wall.

Chapter 2
1

Over the next several weeks, I concentrated
on summer classes and putting the finishing touches on my book. I
felt the pressure of getting it done, a big obstacle in setting our
wedding date. After a couple weeks of teasing Tristan, hoping he
would come around, I realized I frustrated myself just as much. So
I gave it up and decided holding off on nearly everything would
make our wedding night that much better. I stopped spending the
night with him and as soon as the loving kisses became passionate
and hands started exploring—his or mine—I cut it off. It was,
admittedly, quite maddening.

"You are infuriating, you know that?" Tristan
teased one night as we snuggled on Mom's couch. "I liked it better
when you threw yourself at me."

I laughed. "Shouldn't have complained
then."

"Will you please do it again?" he murmured
against the hollow behind my ear.

"Nope."

"But I miss your body." His hand slid along
my side.

"Then you will enjoy it all the more on our
wedding night." I picked his hand up as it started sliding under my
shirt.

"Are you trying to manipulate me? Because it
might be working…." He kissed and nibbled my ear, driving me nearly
over the edge.

I sighed. "Not much longer, right? September
First?"

"Five weeks, four days, eighteen hours."

Feels like forever
. I moaned
internally. But I smiled anyway and said, "Not long."

We'd just decided the date that day when we
mailed the first query letters for getting my book published. Mom
was satisfied and it was far enough away that we could have a legal
wedding and exchange Amadis vows at the same time. The Daemoni had
been quiet, according to Stefan, who dropped in every now and then
for coffee or dinner, so I had to trust Tristan would be okay in
the meantime.

Less than a week later, though, Hell blew
in.

Tropical Storm Edmund brewed in the Gulf of
Mexico, projected to make landfall somewhere in our area as a
category one or two hurricane. Long-time locals told us it wasn't
much to worry about—"Board up and hunker down. You'll be fine." Mom
and Tristan seemed overly tense, though, considering they'd faced
much worse than a relatively small hurricane. The first heavy bands
of wind and rain came in as we finished boarding the cottage,
having spent most of the day preparing the store.

"Something's going on besides this storm,"
Tristan yelled over the wind at Mom.

"I feel it, too," Mom yelled back. "We're
almost done here. Get Alexis to your house. We'll be there in a
minute."

Tristan and I ran for the car, leaving Mom
and Owen to finish hanging plywood on the last window. Rain blew in
sheets, looking like it marched across the road. We arrived at
Tristan's house within five minutes, but in that short amount of
time, the storm's intensity had already increased. The wind whipped
at the trees, bending the palms at forty-five-degree angles, but
the worst of the storm was still hours away. We pulled into the
garage and as I stepped out of the car, I thought I saw something
rather large blow under the closing garage door. Tristan saw it,
too.