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mind. “He’s still with you. He will always be with you. Trust him to watch over you. You need to let him go, Claire.”
He’s dead enough that I’m lonely . . . but alive enough that I can’t fathom moving on.
“Claire Anderson,” he calls from the stage. My horrified eyes meet his. “Sit back down.” “I . . .” I take another step toward the exit. “Claire,” he warns. I glance around at the 120 pairs of eyes fixed firmly on me and then back up at him. “I said sit. Back. Down.”
“Don’t be scared of calling me Tristan.” I roll my eyes. “Because one day very soon, I predict that you’re going to be moaning it.”
He rushes me and grabs my face in his hands and kisses me. His tongue swipes through my lips, and he pushes me up against the wall. “Believe me, Claire Anderson . . . the last thing I feel when I look at you . . . is pity.”
smirk at my spot-on analogy as I drop my eyes to the floor. Tristan Miles is chocolate. Rich, delicious, and dreamy, he offers a high . . . but in the end, he is detrimental to your health and bad to the bone.
“Be a good boy, and you might get what you want.” He smiles darkly. “Or be a bad boy, and take it anyway.”
“In all seriousness, Tris, thank you.” “For what?” “For making me remember what it feels like to laugh.”
When I’m holding her in my arms like this, intimacy is running between us like a river, and just for a moment . . . She is mine.
“You’re late.” He jerks his tie hard as he pushes off the door toward me. “And you look spectacular in my bathtub.” “Are you getting in?” I ask. He smiles darkly as he tears his jacket over his shoulders. “I am most definitely . . . getting in.” He begins to unbutton his shirt.
“She’s beautiful.” “She is,” he replies. “Why didn’t it work out with her?” I ask, distracted by her beauty. He kisses my temple and holds his cheek to mine. “Because she wasn’t you.”
“Boys,” I call. They all run to us and sit down, excited for what’s to come. “We have something for you.” I smile. Patrick puts his hand over his mouth so that he doesn’t blurt it out. Claire’s eyes come to me in question. I drop to my knee in front of her and hold out the ring. “Claire, will you marry me?” The three boys all bounce on the spot in excitement. Claire giggles and pulls me in to kiss her. “I thought you’d never ask.” We kiss, and the boys high-five. “I’ve got a Christmas present for you too, Tris,” she whispers. I smile as I kiss her again, and then she takes my hand and puts it
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“I’m going to run my sons’ company . . . for them. I can build it back up so that by the time they are old enough to take it over, it will be booming.” His eyes hold mine, and he gives me a slow smile. “You’re a good man, Tristan.” He pulls me into a hug and kisses my cheek.
“When will you be back?” he asks. I turn back to him. “When my boys are men.”
