3. Tristan
Chapter 3
Tristan
A s I stand by the window of my rental cabin, the afternoon sunlight streams through the panes, warming my skin.
Yesterday, after Willow hadn’t answered my questions, I had my assistant book a vacant property nearby.
Willow’s neighboring cabin is a rental home. Surrounded by towering pine trees and wildflowers, it’s the perfect place to wait for her.
At the large window, I grip a telescope that my assistant delivered to me this morning. The lens is perfectly clear, allowing me to see even the tiniest details.
Through it, I see Willow standing inside with her back to me, her figure magnified and clear. She moves with fluidity and grace while her mesmerizing paintbrush sweeps across a large canvas.
Her hair cascades down her back like golden silk. Arousal hits me in powerful waves, and I have to remind myself to breathe. She has this effect on me. I long to be with her, to run my fingers through her hair, to feel her skin against mine.
Before long, a car turns down Willow’s driveway and heads for the house. A teenage girl who looks strikingly like Willow steps out from a pickup truck. Must be family. They greet each other and the girl walks into the log house.
Moments later, Willow walks out on the porch, shutting the door behind her, and struts to a parked Jeep. She drives the Jeep down the long private road and takes a left. Then she disappears.
Suddenly, she’s on the driveway of my rental cabin, headed straight towards me.
Shit. How did she know I was here?
Adrenaline pumps through my system as I scramble to hide the telescope behind a flowy curtain. After smoothing down my hair, I force a casual look by leaning against the porch railing as her car pulls up.
Her long legs step down from the red Jeep before she flips her golden-brown hair back over her shoulder. She marches up the front porch stairs while the fabric of her tight-fitting jeans clings to her curves, accentuating every sway of her hips as she walks.
She stops at the top, puts a hand on her hip, and meets my gaze. “I knew you wouldn’t give up without a fight.”
As she gets closer, a faint scent of lavender and vanilla wafts from her hair and skin, mixed with a subtle hint of sweat. A peach tank hugs her torso, showcasing her toned physique and ample breasts.
“Hi, neighbor.” I greet her in a nonchalant voice while failing to hide my curiosity.
She smirks her pink pouty lips, sending a thrill through me. Willow has a playful way about her that can light the world on fire.
Happily, I’m around her to witness it once again. The corners of my mouth lift. “You want a drink? I’ve got water and beer.”
Her eyebrow arches in that familiar way that makes my heart skip a beat. “Well, Lana’s staying the night at my cousin’s house, and … I didn’t come all this way to hydrate.”
Halfway turning, I chuckle. “Beer it is, then.”
I grab a couple of cold ones from the fridge and hand her one. We settle on the deck, and the initial tension eases as we crack open our drinks, the popping of the bottle tops releasing a sense of normalcy.
We take a few sips in comfortable silence.
After the buzz of the drink spreads through me, I finally speak. “Your art is captivating. I think I’ve bought every damn piece you’ve done.”
She looks at me. “No, you haven’t. There’s still a few I haven’t sent.”
I laugh. “Oh. What have you been keeping from me?”
She sits back in the chair and crosses her legs while the denim fabric of her jeans hugs her thighs. “I’ve still got a few prized paintings in the art studio.”
“Ah. Makes sense. You know, every time I saw one of your paintings, it felt like I was seeing a part of you.”
She takes a long sip of her beer, her pupils never leaving mine. “And you never realized it was me?”
“I think my subconscious always knew. Your work is incredible, Willow. It’s like you pour your soul onto the canvas.”
She looks down, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “It’s the only way I can express everything inside. Sometimes words just aren’t enough, you know?”
I nod. “I get that. Your paintings have been a window into your world for me. It was the only thing I had all these years, and though I didn’t know it was you, it filled a space.”
After she fiddles with a shoulder strap of her silky tank top, she shrugs. “Hmm. Well, I’ve seen the internet. You’ve had plenty of women on your arm.”
My body goes rigid as my stomach hardens. “Just because I satisfied my basic physical needs doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about you every single time. You’ve been a constant in my mind since the day you left, Willow. Even when I tried to move on, there was always this void where you used to be.”
She swallows hard, her orbs glistening. “I didn’t want to leave, Tristan. But your father... he drove me out, saying I had no place in your life.”
Sighing, I look down onto the timber floorboards. My siblings and I are still trying to recover from Dad and his bullshit. Almost every trauma in our lives is because of him. I reach out, taking her hand in mine. “He was wrong. You’ve always had a place in my life. You still do.”
She squeezes my hand, her touch sending a jolt through me. “I’m here now, and so are you. So, maybe we can fill that space together.”
A smile spreads across my face. “I’d love that.”
We sit there under the awning, sipping our ale while the drama of the past lifts inch by inch.
The sky turns a rich shade of violet and the stars twinkle in the evening sky as a gentle breeze rustles the leaves on the trees. We’re rebuilding this thing, one moment at a time, and it feels magical.
While we reminisce about shared memories, laughter flows easily. The years seem to melt away.
I can’t hold back any longer. “I must know right now, Willow. Lana’s father... is it me?”
Her shoulders rise, and she takes a thorough breath. “Of course Lana is your daughter. There’s been no one but you.”
A sweat breaks out on my upper lip while the ground shifts beneath me. “Why did you keep this from me?”
“Your dad pressured me to leave town when I was pregnant. He said I would ruin your future and that if I loved you, I should let you go. He convinced me it was the right thing to do.”
Raging heat pours through my flared nostrils before a profound sense of loss washes over me. “You know he’s dead now, right? To the relief of every single person in my family. God bless his soul.”
She shakes her head and shrugs with a single shoulder. “I don’t fault him. He was trying to protect you.”
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I stare down at the wooden floor planks. “I didn’t need protection. I needed you. All those years... I missed so much.”
“I know, Tristan. I’m so sorry.” Her hand finds mine, and her touch is like a soothing balm, grounding me in the present. Therapeutic. Medicinal, even.
I return the touch by caressing her feminine wrist with my fingertips. “I have to be in Lana’s life.”
She arches her brow and shoots me a fierce look. “You better be, or I’ll track you down and make you pay.”
A sudden laugh emerges from my throat. “Really? How would you go about doing something like that?”
Her blue eyes sparkle. “Oh, I have my ways.”
Warmth travels fast through my groin. I close in on her until our faces are inches apart. “Do you? Well, I guess I’ll have to be on my best behavior then.”
The scent of our mingling breath fills the air, the hint of mint and vanilla blending with the heat of our bodies.
She meets my gaze, the air around us simmering. “You better be.”
Without thinking, I close the gap and press my lips to hers in an ardent kiss. She responds eagerly, her feminine arms circling around me.
The years of longing and missed opportunities fuel our passion as we explore each other’s mouths hungrily.
My hand cups the back of her head as I probe my tongue deeper to taste more of her. Her flavor is a delicious blend of sweetness and desire. Her mouth is like a drug you can never get enough of—addictive and dangerous.
I savor the sweetness, wanting more and more with each passing second.
For the first time in a long while, everything feels right.