10. Trinity
Trinity
I grinned as I took another warm-from-the-oven roll from the breadbasket before passing it to Oliver.
He’d been regaling my family with stories of his childhood in New Zealand for the past ten minutes.
My niece, Harper, wouldn’t let the conversation stray from talk of seals.
When Oliver admitted he used to surf on a beach where the giant mammals gathered, my niece and nephew began to pepper him with questions about the ocean.
He handled their attention in stride, the same way he seemed to handle everything my family threw at him, the way I wished I could react.
Having him with me took the pressure off a bit.
Although, his presence introduced an entirely new set of questions that no one had ventured to ask yet.
Like how did we meet? How long had we been seeing each other?
What were our plans? Anxiety swam through my stomach as I wondered which one of my siblings would be the first to put me on the spot.
It helped that Oliver’s hand had found the top of my thigh after we sat down at the table.
The weight of his palm pressed down, grounding me a bit.
Every once in a while, he’d give my leg a little comforting squeeze.
I wondered if he’d be able to make it through the entire meal without moving it.
So far, he’d succeeded but had yet to take a bite of his lamb.
“You said your family is into wine?” Dad asked, a bite of potatoes poised on his fork.
Oliver turned his attention to my father. “Yes, sir. The South Island is well known for optimal growing conditions. Sauvignon Blanc mainly, although we manage a nice Pinot Gris or Chardonnay as well.”
“We’ve toured Napa and Sonoma on multiple trips but haven’t made it to New Zealand yet. What’s the name of your family’s vineyard? I’d love to add a bottle or two to my cellar.”
“Oh, I’m afraid we don’t export yet.” Oliver removed his hand from my leg and cut a bite of his lamb. I immediately missed his touch.
“That’s too bad. Mrs. Ryan has an affinity for a dry white, don’t you dear?” Dad nodded toward Mom.
“So is that your goal?” Leah spoke up. “If you’re in need of financing, I can make some recommendations.”
I leaned toward him. “Leah’s the president of a bank.”
“The youngest bank president in the history of the bank,” Dad reminded me.
“Thanks, but I don’t think we’re quite ready for that yet.” Oliver shifted in his chair as he took another bite into his mouth.
“Here’s my card.” Leah handed her card to her husband, who passed it to me.
Wanting to get Oliver out of the hot seat, I spoke up. “Hey, Harper, are you ready for summer?”
All eyes turned toward the end of the table where my niece sat between Randall and Victoria. “I suppose so. Although I’m not looking forward to language immersion camp.”
Victoria put her hand on her daughter’s. “She and Preston are spending the summer in Beijing to work on their Mandarin. It’s going to be fabulous.”
“That’s some summer camp,” Oliver said.
Dad nodded. “By the time they hit middle school they’ll both be fluent. Talk about a marketable skill.”
I knew the comment wasn’t directly targeted at me, but it still stung.
Sure, I could have taken Mandarin or gotten my doctorate in International Economics if that was even a thing.
But I wasn’t cut out for that kind of life.
Reminded me of that song I used to hear on my older siblings’ Sesame Street DVDs…
something about one thing not being like the others.
How did it go again? One of these things just doesn’t belong.
That’s how I felt when I sat at the table with my family.
Like I didn’t belong. Like I never had and never would.
“Don’t worry, darling.” Victoria brushed Harper’s hair back. “You’ll have so much fun in China, and you’ll be home in plenty of time to spend a week or two at the beach house, too.”
I caught the slight shake of Oliver’s head as he set his fork down.
“How about you, Trinity?” James asked. “Tell us what brought you back to town.”
I knew this moment would come, had mentally prepared for it and even practiced talking in front of a mirror to perfect a nonchalant response. “I’ve decided to settle down. Maybe I missed you all.”
“Maybe you couldn’t wait to get your hands on your trust fund is more like it,” James muttered.
His wife elbowed him in the ribs.
“What? It’s not like that’s not what we’re all thinking.” James looked around the table. “You can’t tell me all of a sudden she’s feeling a little nostalgic.”
“We’re glad you’re back, sweetheart.” Leave it to Mom to try to smooth things over. She’d never let things get out of hand, not with a guest at the table. I’d been counting on her well-bred manners to keep me out of the line of fire.
“Thanks, Mom. I’m happy to be home.” And I meant it, too.
Oliver moved his arm to the back of my chair. He may not have meant it as a sign of having my back, but that’s how I took it.
“James does bring up an interesting point.” Dad picked up his wine glass. “We need to schedule some time to sit down and talk about your grandmother’s trust.”
I nodded. Now wasn’t the time to fill him in on the plans I’d already set in motion. “Of course. I’ll give you a call to set that up. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Oliver has another engagement.”
His hand fell from the back of my chair as I pushed away from the table.
“So soon?” Mom made a move to stand.
“Don’t get up. Sorry we can’t stay longer.” I walked around the table to give her a hug.
“But you haven’t had dessert yet.”
“I’ll box some up in the kitchen, okay?”
She nodded. I grabbed Oliver by the hand and exited the room, a chorus of “goodbyes” and “nice to meet you’s” trailing behind us.
“What the hell? I didn’t even get to finish my lamb.” Oliver stopped just inside the kitchen.
“I’ll get you a to-go box. Sorry, I knew it would be awkward, but I didn’t count on my brother to be such a dick.” I stepped to the kitchen island and ducked down to find a takeout container in the cabinet underneath.
“What’s really going on?” Oliver squatted down next to me.
I fumbled with the tower of plastic containers, trying to find one with a matching lid. “It’s no big deal. Thanks for being a distraction. I got bonus points for coming to dinner and you’re going to have enough lamb for a week.”
His hand closed around mine. “That’s not what I meant. What’s this talk about your trust and your grandmother? Why does your brother seem so pissed?”
I stood, sliding my hand out of his grip. “None of your business, okay?”
Oliver pulled me into him as he stood next to me. “You can’t expect me to suffer through a family dinner and have no idea what everyone’s talking about.”
“Suffer? Is that what you did out there?” I wrapped my arms around his waist, sliding my hands into the back pockets of his pants.
The contours of his ass felt like solid rock under my palms. He wasn’t my type.
I kept reminding myself of that every time he touched me.
But every time he touched me it just made me want him more.
“Poor baby, I didn’t realize it would be so hard for you. ”
His palm splayed across my back, drawing me closer as he turned me slightly, putting my back against the counter.
“What kind of a game are you playing?”
My pulse kicked up, the blood thundering through my ears as the length of his body pressed against mine. “It’s not a game. I’m just trying to get settled. I think maybe I’ve finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up.”
He slid a finger over my shoulder, nudging some escaped tendrils away from my neck. “Oh yeah?”
I nodded, my skin blazing where he’d touched me.
His head dipped down, his mouth connecting with my neck. “Tell me, what do you want to be then?”
Yours.
The thought popped into my head then vanished just as fast. I cleared my throat, put my palms on his chest and pushed. “We need to go.”
I scooped enough leftovers into the plastic container to last Oliver several days. Then tucked it into a bag so I could hold onto it on the bike behind him.
“That’s it?” He followed me out the back door, past where the hired staff cleaned up what remained of my family’s pre-dinner get-together.
I strode down the driveway, finally stopping when I reached the motorcycle parked at the curb. “I shouldn’t have come. Can we get out of here?”
He took a long look at me. The heat of his gaze traveled over me, searing my skin, even though I refused to look up to meet his eyes.
“Fine. Where to?”
“Just take me to the warehouse?”
Nodding, he straddled the bike then handed me the helmet.
Grateful for the silence, I fastened the strap under my chin.
As I wrapped my arms around his waist, he fired up the engine.
I nestled my cheek against his back. Being around my family always tore down my walls.
No matter how hard I tried to hold everything at bay, I could feel their judgment.
It seeped through the cracks, found a way through the chinks in my armor, always threatening to suffocate me.
Grandma Ryan was the only one who knew how to launch a counterattack. And she was gone.
I squeezed my legs around Oliver’s thighs as I tightened my grip on his waist. The world of my childhood zoomed by as we left the gated community and turned toward downtown.
By the time we reached the warehouse, the tightness in my chest had let up, allowing me to breathe again.
Oliver pulled into his regular spot and cut the engine.
He climbed off first, then helped me off the back of the bike. “Listen, I’m sorry about earlier.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I’m the one who threw you to the wolves tonight.” I handed him the container of leftovers. “Will you forgive me if I give you a few days of gourmet leftovers?”
He hung the handle of the bag over a handlebar. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “It wasn’t so bad. And the food was worth it.”
“I told you her cook can really cook.” I smiled back, although what I really wanted was another kiss like the one he’d landed on me before my sister walked in.
“So I guess this is goodnight.” He looked like he wanted to say more, even opened his mouth like he was about to speak. I waited, wondering if he’d ask about my plans again. Or maybe make some smart-ass remarks about my family.
“Thanks again for going with me tonight.” I reached up, placing my palm on his chest. Why couldn’t I seem to keep my hands off him?
“It wasn’t…I mean, I couldn’t…”
“What?” I pressed my palm into his chest.
“It was a strange first date, that’s all.” His face changed as he smiled.
“Agreed. But it wasn’t our first date. We went out for coffee, remember?”
Nodding, he stepped closer. “That’s right. So if I ask you out again, it would be date number three, right?”
“Are you asking me out again?”
“That depends. If I asked you out again, would you say yes?”
Maybe I hadn’t scared off the Kiwi after all. My heart did a little happy dance inside my chest at that revelation. “I don’t know. Where would we go?”
His eyebrows lifted. “Is it true what they say about Americans and their third date rule?”
“What?” I landed a playful swat on his chest. “Who’s been sabotaging your efforts with bad dating advice?”
“Come here.” His arms locked around my waist, drawing me up against his solid wall of a chest. “I’d love to see you again, Trinity.”
I should say no. He wouldn’t be around much longer, and he was too much like my brothers and my sisters’ husbands to make it work.
I gravitated toward the unpredictable, unfettered kind of guys.
The ones who didn’t have advanced degrees or in most cases, even a permanent address.
But something about the way he held me, the way he looked at me, the way he kissed me, made me nod.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, much different than the one that had scrambled my thoughts a few hours ago.
“I’ll call you.” Then he disappeared through the front door of Tapped, leaving me standing in the parking lot, wondering what I’d just agreed to.