19. Tristan
19
TRISTAN
After spending the last few hours outside, the warmth inside the barn envelops me like a blanket. The scent of pine and cinnamon fills the air, and Lana gasps softly in delight as we move deeper into the building, her eyes wide as she takes in the festive wonderland around us.
“Oh my god, just look at all of this!” she exclaims, her voice filled with wonder.
But she’s a woman on a mission, and even though I can see that she’s itching to stop and look at everything we pass, she makes a beeline for the hot chocolate station set up near the back of the building.
I smile as I follow. The barn is decked out in full holiday splendor, with twinkling lights strung across the rafters and displays of ornaments and decorations covering every available surface. Ryder wasn’t wrong. It really does look like Santa’s workshop exploded in here, but Lana’s reaction makes wading through all the holiday cheer worth it.
The joy radiating from her is infectious, and I find myself wanting to bottle it up and keep it forever. It’s a dangerous thought, one I shouldn’t be entertaining, but between the agreement we all made to explore kink with her and being snowbound in this postcard-perfect town today, it kind of feels like living in a bubble, removed from the reality where I’d normally put the brakes on enjoying her company this much.
“Do you want whipped cream on your cocoa?” Ryder asks her gruffly once we reach the small concession stand.
Lana finally tears her gaze away from the decorations and beams up at him like he just offered her the moon. “Absolutely. And maybe one of those giant gingerbread men too?”
He nods, grunting in acknowledgment as he places the order and pulls out his wallet, and I have to bite back a grin of my own at the faint hint of color on his cheeks.
She’s getting to him too. Not that I can blame him. Her smile is like a ray of goddamn sunshine, and none of us are immune to it.
Lana insists that we all get some hot chocolate, then laughs with joy when Ryder hooks his arm through hers and drags her toward a display of hand-painted ornaments. His Grinch-like tendencies are nowhere to be seen as he watches her trail her fingers over the ornaments almost reverently.
The soft glow of the Christmas lights illuminates her face, and I’m struck suddenly by how beautiful she is.
It’s not a new realization. I’ve always known Lana is attractive. But something about seeing her like this, so open and joyful, hits me right in the chest.
“Earth to Tristan.” Beckett chuckles, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “You want one of these cookies, or should I just eat the rest of them while you moon over Caleb’s sister?”
I flip him off and grab a cookie, perfectly aware of what he’s doing. I get it. Lana is off limits outside of this weird holiday bubble we’re all in. But I’ve known Beckett long enough to see right through him, and it’s not me he’s trying to remind of that fact right now.
He starts grumbling about some of the club business we took care of this morning, slowly ambling along next to me as we follow Lana and Ryder, but I already know there’s nothing urgent happening with Radiance, so I tune him out and let my gaze drift back to Lana.
She’s moved on to a towering Christmas tree, decorated with what looks like hundreds of ornaments. Her face is tilted up, eyes wide as she takes it all in, and I’m struck by the thought that for all the success I’ve had in my life, being a part of putting that smile on her face feels like my greatest accomplishment.
And temporary agreement or not, I want to keep doing it.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, pushing the thought away fast. It’s not possible. At least, not like this.
“Problem?” Beckett asks.
I shake my head, then laugh when Ryder glances back and sends the two of us a look of total dismay, mouthing a silent “save me.”
Lana has managed to drag him over to the guy dressed up as Santa in the corner who’s taking pictures with kids, and even Beckett chuckles when Ryder shakes his head emphatically after she gestures toward the short line of families waiting to sit on his lap.
“Come on,” I murmur. “Bro code. We’re going to have to intervene.”
We catch up to them just as the last family finishes getting their photos and Santa turns his attention to Lana.
“Ho Ho Ho!” he says, playing it up like he’s the real thing. He pats his lap. “Come on over and tell me what you want for Christmas, little lady!”
Lana’s eyes go wide. “Me? Oh, no, I couldn’t.”
“Afraid you’re not on the nice list this year?” Santa teases her, making me narrow my eyes when his own eyes flicker with interest, his smile just a little too wide in my opinion.
The white hair and beard are clearly part of the costume, and if I’m not mistaken, so is all the padding. This isn’t some jolly old man. He can’t be much older than we are, and even if the flirty banter he falls into with Lana is innocent enough not to get him in trouble in this family-friendly setting, I’d bet my entire share of Radiance that he’d be more than happy to put her on his own naughty list this year.
And dammit, he actually convinces her to pass her hot chocolate over to Ryder and go sit on his lap.
“Are you seeing this?” Beckett growls, pinning an intense stare on Santa as Lana perches on the asshole’s knee.
“Fucking Christmas,” Ryder grumbles, looking around the barn. “Come on, let’s go look at that leather work.”
Beckett actually perks up a little. “Where?”
Ryder points it out, and the two of them head in that direction. But I don’t go with them, sticking close to Lana instead. I’m not leaving her side—especially while she’s on another man’s lap.
“What are you hoping to find under the tree this year?” Santa asks her, resting his hand on her knee.
Lana laughs, then leans in to whisper her answer in his ear.
It’s perfectly innocent.
She’s having fun.
I know that.
But something inside me snaps, and before I even realize what I’m doing, I’ve stomped over and tugged her off his lap.
“Tristan?” Lana asks, looking startled.
I tuck her against my side and glare down at the knee-groper. “Hands to yourself, Nick .”
A flash of irritation crosses his face, but then he obviously remembers where he is—which is at work, not at a pickup joint—and gets back into character.
“That’s Saint Nick to you,” he says with an exaggerated wink and another ho ho ho . “And what do you want for Christmas, young man?”
I can’t help the smug smile when Lana melts against me. “I’ve already got it right here.”
Lana laughs breathlessly as I pull her away. “What was all that about?”
“What did you whisper to him?” I ask instead of answering her question.
She purses her lips, shaking her head. “That’s a secret between me and Santa. If I tell you my Christmas wish, it won’t come true!”
“That’s not how it works.”
“I’m pretty sure it is,” she jokes.
I grab her by both arms, swinging her around to face me. “No, freckles, it’s not. If you’re going to be sitting on someone’s lap and spilling your secrets, it’s going to be one of us.”
“But what if I want presents?” she asks with a pretty pout, like she thinks I’m kidding. “That’s Santa’s job, not yours!”
“The fuck it’s not.”
Her eyes go wide, and I look around for some privacy, then pull her into a small alcove behind a row of themed Christmas trees.
“If you want presents, you tell me, Ryder, or Beckett. If you want something for Christmas, we’ll make it happen. No sitting on anyone else’s lap. No letting other men touch you.”
“Tristan,” she says softly, resting a hand on my chest. “I, um… I don’t know what to say.”
“I’m serious,” I tell her, all the feelings that have been building up inside me today crystallizing into something I’m done denying. At least in this moment. “I know what we’re doing is only temporary, but while we’re on this road trip, you’re ours. And I’ve got no interest in sharing you with anyone else. Not even in little ways.”
“Besides Ryder and Beckett,” she murmurs, her cheeks flushing pink. “I’m, um, I’m all of yours for now.”
“That’s right.”
I don’t feel any of the sharp spikes of jealousy I just experienced when it comes to my two oldest friends. It feels right to share her with them. Not to mention it’s hot as hell.
“Okay,” she whispers, her eyes wide.
“Okay?” I repeat, cupping her jaw and stroking my thumb over her satiny skin.
“Yeah.” She bites her lip, then smiles at me, her adorable little dimple popping out. “I’m very okay with that.”
Something settles inside me, and I can’t help smiling back at her. “Good.”
Then I kiss her, because for right now at least, I can.
After we catch up with Ryder and Beckett and admire the leather crafts they found, Lana tries to excuse herself to “find the ladies room.”
Ryder snorts. “You know you’re not very good at being sneaky, right?”
She laughs, playfully smacking his arm. “Stop it! A girl is entitled to her secrets.”
“What kind of secrets?” Beckett asks with a frown.
She gives an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes at him. “I’m just going to grab a few things before we go, okay? But none of you are allowed to peek!”
I chuckle as she scampers off. “She’s buying us presents, isn’t she?”
“She doesn’t need to buy us presents,” Beckett grumbles.
Ryder rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. “Try telling her that.”
“I think you’re wrong,” Beckett insists. “She doesn’t have any reason to buy things for us. We don’t need any of this crap.”
I raise my eyebrows, shooting a pointed look at the festive bag stamped with the tree farm’s logo that he’s carrying.
“That’s different,” he mutters. “That leatherworker was a skilled craftsman.”
Ryder and I give him a little more shit for his shopping choices, then finally head back to the hotel once Lana rejoins us. None of us mention the fact that the weather has cleared up even more—or that, while it’s too late to hit the road tonight, it’s clear that we’ll be able to continue traveling in the morning.
Lana vetoes Ryder’s suggestion for take-out once we’re back in our suite, whipping up a simple but delicious meal for us from the groceries she ordered earlier instead. A meal that she insists we eat while having a Christmas movie marathon.
Ryder, predictably, groans. “Do we have to?”
“Would it be mean of me to say yes?” she asks, shamelessly batting her eyes at him.
He folds immediately, making even Beckett chuckle, but passes on Lana’s offer to let him pick the movie.
“Okay, well, which one do you want to watch first?” she asks, turning to Beckett.
He shrugs. “Anything is fine.”
Lana narrows her eyes a little. “But which Christmas movie is your favorite?”
He grunts, and she turns the spotlight on me.
“Tristan?”
“Uh…” I try to remember what Grandma Meg used to put on while she made Christmas cookies. “The one with the angel?”
“You mean It’s a Wonderful Life ?”
“Sure.”
“Oh my god,” she says, throwing her hands up as she laughs. “You have no idea, do you? Come on, tell me. How many Christmas movies have you guys actually seen?”
The silence echoes.
Then Beckett breaks it. “I like Die Hard .”
Lana’s jaw drops. “Are you kidding me? That is not a Christmas movie! Okay, that’s it. We’re starting with my favorite, Miracle on 34 th Street , and I’m not even going to ask if any of you have seen it or not, because I already know the answer.”
I settle back on the couch as she sets it up, exchanging grins with Ryder as she huffs under her breath while she does it. I’m definitely not as sold on Christmas as Lana is, but even I can admit that her obsession with it is kind of adorable.
So is the way she recites half the movie’s lines under her breath as she watches it.
Once we all finish eating, she puts on another one, something about an elf, and pulls out her sketch pad, curling up with her fuzzy-socked feet on the couch, tucked under my thigh, and her head on Ryder’s shoulder as she divides her attention between drawing and the screen, tossing aside each sketch as she finishes it.
I’ve spent plenty of nights chilling at home with Ryder and Beckett, but something about having Lana in the mix makes this feel different. Just as comfortable, but also somehow better. And the way I keep catching Ryder smiling down at her fondly makes me think I’m not the only one feeling this way.
Beckett, on the other hand, seems a little tense as the last movie wraps up.
“We should clean up,” Lana says, standing up and stretching as the credits start to roll.
I stand up too so I can block her before she can grab the scattered remains of the meal she made us. “Uh uh. You cooked. We’ll handle the dishes.”
“You’re going to spoil me. But if you’re sure, I wouldn’t mind grabbing a shower.”
“Go,” I tell her as Ryder gathers up the dishes from the coffee table and takes them to the kitchen.
She goes up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek, then heads to the bathroom. I turn to follow after Ryder, but then glance at Beckett and change my mind.
“You okay?” I ask.
He looks up at me like I’ve startled him out of his thoughts, then gives a single, short nod. “Fine.”
I prop my hip on the arm of the couch and cross my arms over my chest. “Want to try that again? You’ve been tense ever since we got back from the tree farm.”
For a second, he looks like he’s going to close down on me. But then he sighs, looking away for a second. “I just don’t think this is smart.”
I don’t have to ask what he means.
“It’s only until we reach New Hampshire,” I remind him. “Then everything will go back to normal.”
He gives me a noncommittal grunt, and I huff in irritation. We don’t have that many days left on the road, and as I realized after Santa put his hands on her, I don’t want to waste them.
“Fuck, Beckett. It’s good . You know it is. Just enjoy it. Lana is…”
Incredible. Sexy. Joyful. Addicting.
He raises an eyebrow at me when I trail off without saying any of that, not sure which adjective to give him.
But I’m not the only one who knows his friend well.
“Yeah,” he says after a minute, the corner of his mouth tipping up. “She’s all that. So do you really think we’ll be able to go back to the way things were after this?”
“Sure,” I lie, then have to look away, scrubbing at the faint ache in my chest.
Beckett snorts. “Want to try that again?” he asks, parroting the question back at me.
“It’s complicated.”
“No shit. And what happens if our relationship with her can’t recover? You really think it’s not gonna get awkward? Are you willing to lose her from our lives forever, just for a few days of fun?”
“It’s more than that,” I snap, then yank my glasses off to polish them so I don’t have to see the sad smile on Beckett’s face.
I can still hear him, though.
“Yeah, that’s kind of my point,” he says quietly.
My gut twists. I understand where Beckett is coming from. He’s putting into words a lot of the same things that held me back when I first tried to ignore my attraction to her the night she came to my hotel room. And maybe he’s right. Maybe it would have been better if we’d never started any of this. But that ship has sailed.
I slide my glasses back into place. “We’re not going to avoid things getting complicated by ending things early.”
Beckett gives me a long look. “It might help.”
“No.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh. “No, you don’t think it will help, or no, you’re not willing to end this before we have to?”
“Are you willing to do that?”
He frowns at me. “I should.”
“But are you?”
“Fuck,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“Yeah,” I agree, laughing ruefully under my breath. “I don’t have the willpower to stop either. Not now that we’ve started. But it is good. You know it is. And since we’re not going to stop, it’s okay to enjoy what we’ve got with her while we’ve got it.”
He huffs again, shaking his head like he’s not sure he agrees with me. But that’s fair. It’s not just complicated with Lana—it hit me earlier today that it’s going to fucking hurt when we finish this trip and have to go back to…
Well, to whatever the new normal ends up being after our agreement comes to an end.
A warm wave of floral bath-product scent wafts out from the suite’s bedroom. Lana must have finished her shower.
A moment later, she appears in the bedroom’s doorway, leaning against the doorjamb in just a sexy-as-fuck pair of lacy panties and a matching bra.
“You two look serious,” she says to me and Beckett, smiling as she looks between the two of us curiously. “Everything okay?”
Ryder emerges from the kitchen as if called by a siren. “Very fucking okay, love,” he answers, striding over to her and pulling her against him. “You look gorgeous.”
She makes a sexy little sound that goes straight to my cock, and Ryder kisses her, swallowing it down with a groan.
“Fuck,” Beckett murmurs, so low that I’m probably the only one who hears.
I nod, but my attention is riveted to the sight of her clinging to Ryder’s shoulders, her lush curves pressed against him like a dream.
They’re hot as fuck together.
Ryder has one arm wrapped around her waist, and when he fists his hand in her thick, silky hair and tugs her head back, kissing his way down her throat, she gasps, making eye contact with me over his shoulder. Eye contact that looks a hell of a lot like an invitation.
I share a quick look with Beckett, the conversation we just had silently replaying between us.
I can respect his reasons for continuing to hold himself back, but I’m done with that. I may not know what the future will look like once this all ends, but I do know that the only thing I’ll regret about tonight is not enjoying every fucking second we’ve still got with her while I can.
With a low curse, I get to my feet and stride over to join Lana and Ryder.