Since then, Tristan had really been all I could think about. I didn't know why he was helping me like this, but I’d find out eventually, because nothing in life was “free.”
I pulled my car to a stop in front of the ranch house and cut the engine. I sat there for long moments thinking about everything that had transpired in the last week or so. So much in such a short time. The inner front door was open, the screen blocking a clear shot into the home. I could see Tristan’s behemoth truck parked on the other side of the driveway, and my nerves ratcheted up even more.
And then the front door opened, and Tristan was stepping out, a massive man who had the air leaving my lungs violently and had that ache between my thighs deepening even more. Every part of my body tingled in female appreciation.
He stood there for a moment just staring at me, his faded, worn denim jeans encasing his strong, tree trunk-sized thighs perfectly. His heather gray T-shirt was stretched across his broad chest, and I swore I heard angels sing at the sight of a six-pack defined under the material.
He made his way down the porch steps, and there wasn’t anything not arousing about him.
I got out of the car and felt my hands start to shake because of how anxious I was. I was never good at hiding my emotions, and I felt like Tristan would be the type of person who could read someone easily just by being in the same room with them. So I clasped my hands together and gave him what I hoped was a normal looking smile and not one forced because he had my libido working overtime.
“Hey,” he said gruffly, and the smile that spread across his face was so genuine that it had my belly tightening in response. He actually looked like he was so damn happy I was here, as if he’d been waiting for this day all week.
Or maybe that was just my overactive imagination and my desire for him being projected back at myself. Either way, I allowed myself to enjoy the feeling, even if it was probably misplaced.
We stood there for a moment just staring at each other, this heavy, thick pressure between us that wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it felt like a second coating along my arms. Goosebumps popped out on my limbs, and I busied myself by turning around and opening the back door and grabbing the first bag I saw.
When I faced him again, I noticed the way his gaze snapped back up to my face and felt my cheeks heat because I’d caught him checking me out. He cleared his throat and ran his hand over the back of his neck, and I smiled a little at how clearly embarrassed he was.
“I want to thank you for fixing my car.” I hadn’t known how I would bring up the subject, but I knew it had to be cleared between us. “Thank you for working on it and saving me so much. You don’t know how much I appreciate that.” He’d saved me hundreds, if not thousands in labor. “I know my room and board is tied to domestic duties, like cooking and cleaning, but I’d really like to make you a nice dinner tonight to say thank you, ingredients on me?”
The look he gave me was so intense that I heard a small sound escape me.
He took a step closer, and I found myself moving one back, not because I was afraid, but because his close proximity did wicked things to me, things I’d never felt or experienced before… things I didn’t want to end.
My car stopped my retreat, and I placed my palms flat on the cold metal. He stared down at me for a long second, and maybe I should’ve been unnerved by his intensity, at the way his dark eyes were penetrating and latched on to me like an unbreakable bond.
It was as if he couldn’t bear to look away. I know the feeling.
“I don’t think anything would make me happier right now, Dolly.”
I exhaled and nodded slowly, not sure what to say—if I could even find the words to converse with him. He reached his hand out, and my entire body tightened, my mind envisioning him running those long, strong fingers along my arm, over my neck, and gently curling around my throat as he held me immobile for whatever he wanted to do.
I’d never wanted a kiss as much as I wanted that from Tristan.
I’d never wanted to have sex so much until right this very moment, until I knew without a doubt Tristan would claim me in a way that would ruin all other experiences in the future.
And if he ever did take me, claim me, mark me as his… I knew I’d never be the same. I might not be very experienced, but I could handle anything a man like Tristan gave me.
But he didn’t touch me. Instead, he reached over and opened the back door again, which I had closed when I'd retreated from his massive form.
I moved to the side and exhaled as he opened the back passenger door farther. He grabbed a couple bags, and when he faced me again, I swore my heart stopped when he winked. I knew he was fully aware of the effect he had on me, and I didn't know how to handle that.
He turned and started heading toward the house, and I sagged against the car as I watched him leave, his strides powerful as he stepped into the house.
My house now.
Yeah, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to last with my sanity intact living under the same roof as Tristan. And for a moment, I played with the idea that going insane wasn’t the worst thing in the world to happen, especially if it was because of him.
7
Dolly
He’d been watching me the entire time I cooked dinner. I felt his gaze on me, but I thought I’d done a good job of pretending like I didn’t notice him. It had been harder said than done. I set the last dish on the table, smoothed my hands over the apron I’d tied around my waist, and finally glanced up at the doorway of the kitchen and dining room to see him leaning against the frame, staring at me.
His big arms were crossed over his chest, and I told myself over and over again that I would not stare at the clear definition of his muscles under the material of his shirt. I knew he worked at Blake Auto, but it was also clear he kept in prime physical condition working on his land. That was evident by the slabs of muscles and obvious strength he exuded.
It was also evident in the way calluses marred his big, wide hands… ones I’d pictured far too many times holding me down as he did totally inappropriate and filthy things to me.
“I hope you like lasagna.” The rag I used to carry the hot dishes to the table was in my hand, and I twisted it tightly, using it as something to calm me down, to keep my thoughts grounded. Of course even that didn’t help. I felt so unbalanced where Tristan was concerned. “It’s my father’s recipe, and my favorite meal. I hope it’s yours as well, or at least one you don’t hate.” I tried to tease, but the serious look on his face had the amusement fleeing.
He pushed away from the frame and stepped inside, stopping by the table and looking down at everything I’d placed on top of it. The dish of cheesy, browned, and bubbly lasagna. There was a side salad, a plate of homemade garlic bread, and a few small ramekins of freshly grated Parmesan and mozzarella.
“It looks incredible,” he said deeply and lifted his head so we were gazing at each other again. “Thank you. I’ve never had anyone make me a home-cooked meal before.”
I felt my eyebrows rise in shock. “No?” He shook his head slowly and walked around to the side of the table to pull the chair out, gesturing for me to sit down. Once I was seated, I watched as he walked to the fridge and grabbed a couple beers out for us. He turned back and held one out for me, a silent question that I nodded my agreement and thanks to. He popped the cap and came closer. I grabbed the beer, our fingers brushing. I hoped he didn’t see the way my body slightly shivered in response.