I didn’t know what I expected, how I expected his home to be, but looking at a man as big and rugged as Tristan, this certainly wasn’t what I expected.
“I—” I cleared my throat and focused on Tristan again. “I have references, background on where I’ve rented, things like that.” I held out the papers, but he was shaking his head.
“I don’t need any of that.”
I lifted my eyebrows before furrowing them in confusion. “You don’t want them?” A moment of panic settled in me that I’d screwed this up before it even started, that I’d inadvertently offended him maybe.
“I don’t need them because the room is yours.”
The air stilled in my lungs. “But you don’t know anything about me.” The words were low, maybe too low for him to hear me, but he leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table, his smile slow, soft even. Well, as soft as a man like Tristan could be.
“I know you, Dolly.”
My heart did something funny in my chest at the sound of those four words.
“And the room is yours, if you want it.”
I licked my lips and let my hand fall down to the table, the papers just sitting there between us. “Just like that?”
He leaned back in the chair and nodded, holding his hands out, palms up. “Just like that.”
I should have definitely been hesitant and questioned what was going on, why this all seemed so easy, but before I could say anything, he was standing and smiling.
“Let me show you around, explain things, and then you can decide if it’s a good fit. I can explain the whole room and board in exchange for domestic duties, too.”
I slowly stood and put the papers in my bag. “Okay.” I should have asked why he wanted a cook or cleaner when his house was obviously spotless, but I said nothing and just followed him.
I tried not to let my hopes get up because this sure seemed too good to be true.
5
Dolly
“Just like that?” my father said, and I glanced up at him.
He sat across from me at the small dining room table in his cabin, his dark eyebrows lowered, the displeasure on his face evident. His words reminded me of when Tristan had said the same thing.
I shrugged and went back to eating dinner. “The lasagna is great, Dad. I haven't had it in a long time.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
I chuckled and lifted my gaze back to him. “I am.”
He exhaled and leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face, the sound of his palm scrapping over his scruff loud.
“What do you know about Tristan?” I leaned back, too, and set my fork on the plate, staring at my father.
“He’s a good man, from how much I know about him, anyway. But he keeps to himself. I know he works at the auto shop in town. A damn good mechanic, too.”
“Sounds like someone I know.” I smiled when my father grunted.
“He moved to Cherry Falls some ten, probably more like fifteen years back. I don’t know about his past, but since he’s been here…” He shrugged. “Decent man from what I hear and has always helped those in town with whatever they needed when he’s been asked.”
I nodded slowly. I’d never told my father, or anyone for that matter, the weird desire I had for Tristan, that instant connection I felt when I’d first seen him. I kept that private, just for me. Because it didn’t make sense and scared me slightly.
So I worried about how things would play out now that I’d be staying in a room at his place. Would it make my desire worse? Would I realize it was nothing at all being around him all the time?
Not knowing was even more terrifying than what I felt, if I were being honest.
“When do you plan on moving in?”
Although my father tried to act like nothing bothered him, I could hear the pitch in his voice that told me how he felt.
He felt like he was losing me when I’d just come back.
“I’ll be close,” I said softly, and he nodded. “And as much as I love staying with you, we both know that I have to stand on my own.”
He exhaled and nodded. “I know, sweetheart.”
“I’ll be a twenty-minute drive away, no matter what.” I smiled. “We can do dinner all the time, go see a movie, hell, get some ice cream in town like we used to when I was a kid.”
His small was warm and genuine. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
The silence stretched out for a few moments before I said, “I’ll be moving into the room at the end of the week.”
“And the room and board is contingent on domestic duties, like what? Cooking, cleaning, stuff like that?”
I nodded again and stood, taking both of our plates to the sink. “I guess he’s had a housecleaner for some time, and I said I can pick up those duties, as well as tend to the garden, but that I’ll also be looking for other employment as I’m saving up.”
“Good. That's good,” he said, and I heard him behind me cleaning up the table. “Let me know if he turns out to be an asshole because I'll kick his ass.”
I couldn't help it. I started laughing and looked over my shoulder at him. “Dad? Really?” He shrugged but looked serious as hell. “Oh. You’re serious?” I grinned and turned to face him. “You are the most nonviolent and nonaggressive person I know.”
He didn't say anything as he finished cleaning off the table but then moved to stand beside me. “Where you’re concerned, I’m protective. What can I say?”
I felt any amusement leave me as I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his shoulder. “I love you, Dad.”
He cupped the back of my head and kissed the crown. “I love you, too, sweetheart.” A long pause of silence filled the space before he said, “But I will kick his ass if he bothers you, even if he’s bigger than me.”
My amusement rose back up, and I laughed. “Fair enough. Fair enough.”
6
Dolly
The rest of the week had passed so quickly, a blur as I spent as much quality time with my father as I could in between looking for a job.
I felt like things were looking up, what with finding a place to live, rent and food covered, and finally getting employment. But it wasn’t just any job. It was employment at the town’s dance studio, Cherry Falls Dance Studio. I was only the secretary, but hell, I would be surrounded by all things dance related, so I was in heaven.
I’d left my father’s house twenty minutes before and was nearing Tristan’s home… my new home for the time being. I’d gotten my car back from the shop a few days ago, and although I’d held my breath when I waited for them to tell me the price, I’d been shocked that I hadn’t been charged anything except the cost of the part itself.
When I questioned why, which maybe had been stupid and I shouldn’t have looked a gift horse in the mouth, the pimply-faced teenager working behind the desk had told me, “Mr. Black fixed it on his days off, so you weren’t charged for labor.”