A week went by as he and Abraham went on runs at night where they’d meet up with Spencer and collect as much as they could for the winter. The drops from the military up in Canton were slowing down. He had to pay more now for each skid of supplies. He and Abraham were also looting businesses and grocery stores, pharmacies, and restaurants. They weren’t the first to hit any of them, so there wasn’t much left on any of the shelves. Things were going from bad to worse. America was collapsing. Millions were dead in American with the death toll around the world in the tens of millions. Tonight, they were meeting his L.T. to loot the base since it was delayed. The last man was sent away yesterday, and he got a call from his lieutenant to come tonight.
Unfortunately, Avery was still walking around in a stupor like the former shell of the girl he first met who was so optimistic and happy and sassy. She moped, cried a lot at night when she was alone upstairs in her parents’ bedroom where she now slept, and barely changed out of her clothing or took showers. Finnegan clung to her as if his life depended on it, though. Kaia and Ephraim were polar opposites. Kaia would work out on their parents’ exercise equipment in the basement and take out her anger with her throwing knives at the padded target outside. She was really good with a bow, too. Ephraim was quiet and kept to his room mostly reading books. None of the kids were doing well. Abraham was dealing with it better than anyone else, and Tristan figured it was because he saw himself, at sixteen and the oldest boy, as their protector.
“Avery,” he said as he knocked and entered her bedroom. He slept downstairs and not in her apartment. She didn’t want him that far away. It was almost nine a.m., and she was still in bed. He was beginning to worry about her. She was normally up around six and making breakfast. He noticed her light was on late last night, though. He knew she was depressed but didn’t know how to help her. Hell, her mother was his therapist. Clearly, mental healthcare wasn’t his specialty. A lot of men in the military committed suicide, and he didn’t want her doing the same.
Tristan approached the bed and sat on the edge near her. She was peacefully asleep, although there were used tissues on the nightstand as if she’d cried herself to sleep again last night. He didn’t need the physical evidence. When he walked around at night checking on the place, he heard her, even though he could tell she was trying to be quiet. It crushed him inside a little every time he heard it. Tristan didn’t know how to comfort her. He wasn’t exactly a hugger, but Avery made him want to be.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said and gave her shoulder a gentle shake.
She moaned softly and rolled onto her back. Then she laid her arm above her head. He remembered her looking this sensual that night he’d checked on her when he’d first spent the night. It seemed like years ago. Tristan reached out and ran the backs of his knuckles down her cheek. Her small grin gave him a smidgen of hope.
“Ready to get up?” he asked softly, wishing he could just join her. “Renee will be here soon.”
Her eyes popped open. Then she blinked slowly. Her pale brows and black eyelashes perfectly complemented those silvery blue eyes, as if God had that plan all along when he’d created her.
Unfortunately, she closed her eyes again. Then she surprised him by capturing his hand in hers and skimming his middle finger across her lips. Well, that was new.
“Want to get a shower?” he asked.
She nodded and rolled over onto her other side.
“Come on, lazy bones,” he said and pulled the covers away. Mistake. She was wearing a pink satin short set that exposed her long, tan legs. “I want to check your staples, too. And change that dressing.”
She groaned and tried to pull the cover back up.
“Nuh-uh,” he said and slid his arms under her. She was easy to pick up, so Tristan sometimes lately resorted to that to get her moving in the morning. “Come on. Let’s go to the bathroom.”
He set her on her bottom on the counter space between the two sinks. Then he bent over and lifted her pink, satin top. She’d lost weight during the eight days she was under. She lost more weight in the last week since she’d been home because she was depressed.
“You’re getting skinny, Miss Swedish Bikini Model. Don’t make me force feed you,” he warned. “I will.”
“What’s it matter?” she asked in a gravelly voice from crying all night.
“The kids need us. That’s why it matters,” he said in a sterner voice. “So, you will eat. And you will take care of yourself so you can take care of them.”
“They’ve got you now,” she mumbled pointed one slim finger at the center of his chest. Then she laid her hand flat there for some reason.
He tried a different approach and picked up her hand from his chest, showing her the ring he bought her with looted goods, “See that? No way am I raising these kids alone. We’re in this together.”
“We’re not really engaged,” she said in a snotty tone.
“Maybe we’ll have to change that,” he returned before he could stop the words from coming out. Tristan looked up at her. She was awake now, that was for sure, because her eyes widened. Her hair was messy and unkempt but also very, very sexy like that. At least she was focused and alert and not the zombie Avery he’d been looking at for a week. “Now hold still and let me remove your dressing. Then grab your shower, and I’ll replace it.”
She frowned at him as if angry and held her arm out of the way as he carefully pulled the adhesive tape and bandage off.
“Good, just like that doctor said. Some more fell out. Less staples for us to remove.”
“I have to go back to have them taken out,” she said. “That’s what you do post-op. You go to the doctor who did the surgery, and they take them out. We’re not supposed to do it.”
“Maybe before all this. Not anymore. I’m going to give these another day, and then I’ll have to remove them myself.”
She grimaced.
“It won’t hurt,” he promised. “I swear. I’ve looked at it closely. The scar is only about four inches long. It’s healed and closed really well. Won’t hurt. Scout’s honor.” Tristan held up his fingers in the boy scout salute.
She hesitantly hooked her finger around his three. “You said you weren’t a boy scout.”
“I’m just the grown-up version,” he joked, getting the faintest glimmer of a grin.
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her finger. Then he enfolded her hand in his and kissed that, too. He needed to be extra gentle with her right now. Everything about her, mentally and physically, was like delicate crystal, ready to shatter at any moment.
“Get your shower. I’ll find you some clothes.”
She nodded, stared another moment at him as if she were surprised he kissed her hand, and he helped her down so she didn’t hurt her stitches. Then he left and went to her parents’ closet where he’d taken all of their clothing and shoes and stored them in boxes and tubs and put them in the storage room in Avery’s apartment. He didn’t know what she’d want to keep or not. While she was in the hospital, he was busy. He’d also moved her things into their closet and dressers. He didn’t want her going up the hill to her apartment for things in case something happened.
Tristan chose jeans, a white turtleneck bodysuit, and warm socks. He knew she’d find one of those frumpy, thick cardigans somewhere discarded downstairs. He missed his opportunity. He should’ve burned them while she was in a coma. Then he rifled her panty drawer and picked out a champagne colored lace bra with gold threads running through it and matching lace panties. He had to clear his voice, and his head, to stop from thinking about her in these items. As she’d pointed out, she wasn’t really his fiancée.
“I’m done,” she said from the doorway in her white silk robe that barely came down over her thighs. Tristan slammed her drawer shut as if caught being a peeper. He quickly handed her the folded pile of clothing. “Thanks.”
He ducked his head once in a nod and left her to get dressed. He collected her discarded clothing and towels from the floor and put them in the hamper and made the bed.
“I’m ready,” she announced a few minutes later. “Can I dry my hair first?”
“Sure, I’ll just run this downstairs and check on the kids. Take your time.”
Kaia was already on the treadmill in the basement according to Ephraim, who was with Finn and the bird, Mr. Gray.
“Where’s Abraham?” he asked.
“Splitting firewood,” Ephraim answered.
He nodded. “Cool. You guys getting hungry?”
“Starving,” Finn said.
“Hey, I bought some granola bars,” he said. “Have some of those with the leftover scrambled eggs from yesterday, okay, guys?”
He stole the granola bars along with a truckload of other foods from a dollar store in town the other night while everyone at home was asleep. He didn’t know shit about growing a garden, but he knew how to sneak in and out of a place easily.
Ephraim gave him a nod, took his little brother’s hand, and led him into the kitchen. Finn had informed Tristan when he was helping put away the groceries he looted that the granola bars he ‘bought’ were coated in chocolate and his mother didn’t approve of that kind of sugary junk food for breakfast. That had stabbed him in the heart. Dr. Andersson was a really cool woman. She loved her kids and her job. She was professional and caring. He couldn’t imagine her being anything but the best mother. She was a natural born nurturer of the human psyche.
Tristan took the stairs two at a time and joined her in the bathroom where she was just finishing. She wasn’t dressed, though. Avery cut the power to the blow dryer and set it on the sink. Then she turned to him and opened her robe. His eyes grew huge, and he had to force his jaw not to hit the marble floor.
“You brought me a bodysuit,” she said. “I-I can’t wear that and have you bandage me. It covers my body. Thus, the word bodysuit?”
She was standing in front of him in her panties and bra. Tristan cleared his voice. In a moment, he was going to need to adjust other things on his body or grab a cold shower.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “Yeah, let me just get you fixed right up.” He forced himself not to be a total pervert ogling her. He just had to get through bandaging her. Then he could leave the bathroom and go help the kids. Just get through it, he repeated over and over in his brain.
He lifted her again onto the countertop so he could work. This time was so different from earlier, though. His bare hands were on her bare waist. And sliding down to her soft hips.
“I can do this now, Tristan,” she said, offering a sympathetic look his way as if she thought she was a burden.
He shook his head. “I don’t mind. I’ve got time. Getting you better and all healed up is my number one priority right now.”
“’Kay,” she said softly as his thumb hooked itself under the edge of her panties on her hip. His fingers were doing things he couldn’t control. ‘Just get through it’ was becoming ‘touch her skin’ in his addled brain.
Tristan could smell her minty breath. She must’ve brushed her teeth, too. Her fingers found their way to his forearms, and he fully anticipated her pushing his hands away from her because she seemed disgusted by him and his tattoos, which he should’ve covered with a long sleeve tee. She didn’t. She stroked her fingertips over his arms in a way that was almost tickling. He didn’t think she was actually trying to tickle him. It was just her light, uncertain touch. From her, it was enough to send a jolt of lust straight through him. This woman had been repulsed by him mere weeks ago when they’d first met in that lame country music bar. His tattoos had disgusted her, his brawn, probably everything about him. Hell, she’d thought he might’ve date-rape drugged her friend’s drink. Now she was touching him. Intimately.
“What is this? Are these…are these scars?” she asked, feeling the grooves.
He nodded, his eyes unable to move from her. Avery wasn’t looking at him, though. She was staring down at the places her fingers were touching all up and down his arms, which caused his muscles to jump.
“From war?” her light eyes darted up to meet his, and Tristan shook his head. “What from?”
“Cigarettes, cigars,” he admitted before his brain could stop his mouth. It was only the second time in his life he told anyone about them. The first had been to her mother. He told other people they were from working on cars, doing construction, or other dumb excuses. Avery just looked back down at his tattooed arms. She shook her head. Great. She hated his tattoos. He knew that. He wished he’d never gotten a single one. What she did next couldn’t have surprised him more. Avery lifted his thick forearm to her mouth. Then she pressed tender, sweet kisses on those scars, healing them and his internal ones at the same time.
“Avery,” he said in a husky tone and slid his hands from her hips into the hair at the side of her face. There was an ocean of sadness in her beautiful eyes. He hated it was there and wanted to make it go away. “Don’t be sad,” Tristan said.
“I hate that someone hurt you like this,” she said softly as a tear slipped down her cheek.
He whisked it away, then pressed his forehead against hers. “It’s okay. Just don’t be sad.”
“Help me, Tristan,” she said as he leaned away from her again. Her hands clenched his forearms more tightly this time as he rested his forehead against hers again. “Make me not sad anymore.”
He drew an unsteady breath and nodded. Slowly, Tristan lowered his mouth toward hers and pressed a soft kiss against her slightly parted lips. He’d never kissed a woman like that before. Usually, it was just fast, hurried, rushed, and each taking their own pleasure. With Avery, it was all different. All he wanted was to take away her pain and replace it with bliss.
Her delicate intake of gasped air made him grin. She was so innocent and sweet. His mind argued that Avery probably wasn’t wanting him to kiss her to make her not sad. Her eyes were telling him something else, though. He knew only one way to help her. Tristan pulled back and then leaned in again. This time he kissed her more deeply, getting a soft little moan from her in the process that was adorable yet sexy. He wanted to kiss her like this every morning.
Tristan pulled back and pressed his forehead to hers again to cool his heels. This was not the time or place. The kids needed them, Spencer was on his way, and the timing was just bad. She had surgery two weeks ago. The list of reasons not to just kept compounding, but she was not plagued with indecision. She ran her hands up his chest, exploring his pecs. Avery Andersson, good girl, gripped two fists full of his t-shirt and pulled him closer again. The kids could wait a few more minutes.
“Kiss me again, Tristan,” she implored quietly.
He gripped the back of her head and ravished her thoroughly and invaded her sweet mouth with his tongue. His other hand slid back down and landed on her bare thigh. As if the heavens above just opened, so did her thighs, and he settled between them. It wasn’t enough. He needed her against him, so Tristan gently slid his hand around her bottom and pulled her until she was snug against his erection. She gasped beautifully again, like he knew she would.
In a turn he would not have expected in a thousand years, the sweet girl in his grip, reached behind her head and tugged his hand free. Then she trailed it down over her shoulder and lower until he was cupping her breast. She nodded and held her breath when he squeezed. She was perfect, as if she were made just for him.
Her own hand was sliding between them to grip him through his jeans. Tristan’s eyes popped open with surprise. Then he grinned against her mouth and continued the onslaught of plundering her mouth for everything he could take. He kissed her neck and shoulder and lower. Next, he kissed her breast through the sheer lace of her naughty little bra, one of so many he’d had to wash the last week.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, now. Please.”
He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant until her fingers were working the button on his jeans. Tristan’s brain wasn’t working as well as she was managing that button, though, because he didn’t stop her. She had him free in the next moment and bit his neck. Damn. She was kind of a vixen. This girl was not who he thought she was. He’d never underestimate her again as her hand moved up and down on his length.
She moaned low in the back of her throat and leaned her head back, giving him the most intoxicatingly sexy view he’d ever witnessed in his life. Tristan kissed her neck and trailed back up to her mouth. His hands were everywhere. Literally all over her body. He squeezed her nipple through her bra, getting another soft cry. His hand was touching her through her panties and gently massaging her.
“Yes,” she said throatily. “Yes, Tristan. Don’t stop.”
He had no intention of stopping. Clearly.
Tristan’s other hand skimmed over her hip and up her waist. Then he ran into the staples. Damn. The staples. He needed to apply the cream and cover her wound again. But she felt so good, and she was making the cutest, sexiest little sounds.
“Tristan,” she whispered, and that was the sexiest sound of all- his name on her mouth. “Please. I want this. I want you.”
“I want you, too,” he said. That was pretty obvious by what she still had in her hand. “But not like this Avery.”
“What?” she asked, her mind not registering.
“The kids,” he said.
“Lock the door,” she answered with her head back again and her eyes closed as he slipped his fingers under the barrier of her panties. Her logic did make sense.
Part of him wondered if she was just depressed about her family and was looking for escape for even a few minutes. He didn’t want it to be minutes, though. He wanted her for hours. He didn’t want to be an emotional bandage. He wanted all of her.
However, she was angling herself toward his tip.
“Tristan, now,” she begged and ran her other hand up under his shirt and over his nipple. Now he was groaning. Then her nails dug in. It hurt, but not in a bad way. Where had this side of her come from?
“Avery, we need to stop,” he said like a dumbass sissy.
She was having none of it. It was like some sort of weird college frat party role reversal scenario. What the fuck? Was he trying to save his virtue? Jesus, she was begging him.
“No, no, don’t stop. I need you,” she said. Her eyes opened, and she looked at him with a flash of anger, “Now.”
“Fuck it,” he swore and kicked off his jeans. Then he lifted her, pulled her legs around his waist and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her gently on the bed and locked the door. When he came back to the bed. She was naked. He blinked hard. Well, shit. That was fast. She really was serious.
“Hurry,” she urged. Damn, she was kind of bossy in the sack. “I need you. Now.”
Tristan needed no more encouragement, though. He came down over her carefully so he didn’t hurt her or her stitches. Then he ran his tongue along her neck. She was so damn sexy in that lingerie but lying before him nude was even better. He’d thought about seeing everything under those naughty bits of lingerie. Thought about it a lot. He wanted to lean back and stare for a while, but she wasn’t in the mood for slow.
“Hurry. Now,” she demanded and took him in her hand again and lifted her hips until they were touching.
Tristan snatched her hand away and held it above her head. Then he rolled his hips against her, teasing her. His head was pounding. The noise loud and solid. She was clinging to him with her free arm and had one leg hooked over the back of his thigh. The restraint was killing him. He reached between them and pushed an inch inside of her tightness.
“Tristan and Avery! What the hell?” Kaia was calling and pounding the door. That was the pounding. It wasn’t his head.
He cleared his throat and called back, even though Avery didn’t seem to care because she was kissing his neck and still trying to pull him down against her bare chest. “Yeah! We’ll be right down! I’m just…helping Avery with her bandages.”
“Fine. Shit! Renee and Spencer just called. They’re ten minutes out. Hurry up!”
He could hear her sister’s feet on the stairs again. Tristan ran a hand over his face, still poised at her entrance, which was slick with her passion. He moaned when she arched her back.
“They can wait,” she whispered and kissed his mouth again, licking his top lip, which made him groan with frustration. Tristan closed his eyes and plunged his tongue into her mouth like he wanted to do with other parts of his body into her body. She did, too. Avery raised her hips again, trying to take more of him, but he pulled his back a little.
“We need to go down,” he said. “You don’t want the kids to know what we were doing.”
She was panting, ready, perspiring like a Swedish goddess all spread out on the burgundy satin sheets. She was a picture. He couldn’t help himself. Tristan smiled widely.
“There’s always later tonight when they go to bed,” he said and kissed her lightly on the mouth. Then he rested his mouth at the pulse point of her neck where her heartbeat thumped rapidly against his lips.
She cooled slightly and nodded. “Promise?”
“You better lock that damn door if you don’t want me coming up here tonight.”
She grinned. “I’ll hold you to that.”
God, he wanted her. He didn’t want to go downstairs. He could hear classical music piping through the sound system down there, but his body was screaming for release. She’d told him once that this room was soundproof so their father could rest and recover from jet lag. He doubted the kids could even hear them.
She cupped his face and kissed his chin. Then she went back to gliding her long fingers across his chest and abdomen.
“Why are you doing all this for us? You left the military. You haven’t once said you want to find your own family. You just take care of us. Why, Tristan?”
“Not us, you,” he corrected and leaned his forehead against hers where he took a deep inhale of her intoxicating scent. His thumb worked circles against the center of her nerve endings between her legs. She panted so sweetly against his mouth. They were both highly aware that he was still pushed just barely inside her body. He was also not wearing a condom, something he’d never done with a woman before. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she licked the base of his neck. “I love you, Avery Andersson.”
Avery’s head snapped up. “Y-you do?”
“Yeah, I do. I love you. I’ve never been in love before, so I know this is the real thing. I think I’ve known for a while. I just didn’t want to admit it. I wanted to leave. Get outta’ here as soon as I could get deployed again. These feelings scared the shit outta’ me, but not anymore. When I thought you were…” he groaned. “I went crazy. I don’t want to lose you.” He paused and kissed her mouth just once. “I love you.”
She reached up and pulled his head down roughly, kissing him with everything she had. Then she lifted her hips and yanked Tristan forward with her strong legs. He couldn’t hold back any longer. She wanted him to finish what they started, and his mind and body were in perfect synch with hers. Maybe it was the mixture of confessing his feelings and just completely surrendering to that, or maybe it was the fact that she wanted him to finish consummating their relationship right this second. Either way, he wanted this, too. He gave up and allowed her to pull him inside of her and helped by pushing his hips forward.
The resistance of her barrier gave way as if it, too, knew he couldn’t be held back by it. He groaned into her neck at the feel of himself fully embedded to the hilt and relished the fact that he knew he was the only man ever to have done this with her. He wanted to ask her what happened to their plan of waiting until tonight, but at the moment, all he could think was how good she felt, how tightly her body hugged him, how slick she was with passion for him. This was no time to talk, and he began the ritual of making love to her. He’d also never made love to anyone, not in the truest sense of the phrase. With other women, it was all about himself, and they took whatever they could get. Wanting to take it slow, because he’d felt her barrier put up a fight a few seconds ago, Tristan moved carefully so as not to hurt her further. She didn’t seem to want that. Avery pulled him forward harder and down onto her quickly with her thigh muscles wrapped around the backs of his legs. That had to have hurt, though. He was certainly not an undersized man. Anywhere. He knew it was supposed to be painful for a girl the first time. She didn’t seem to agree with that.
“Yes, yes, Tristan,” she said in a lower register than she normally spoke. “Don’t slow down. Please.”
He sped up, touched her everywhere, sucked at her flesh, and slid his hand between them to continue his onslaught on her bundle of sensitivity. And finish she did. She damn near exploded. He had to cover her mouth as she clenched him tightly everywhere and inside, too. Then he grinned and finished, too, with a hard moan that he had to stifle in her neck and hair and pillow.
It was brief, not what he wanted with her at all, had lasted less than ten minutes tops. He’d wanted to languish for hours over her, kissing and teasing and playing. That plan went out the window. Mostly she tossed it out.
That made him grin as he kissed her neck and then her cheek. “What happened to tonight?”
“Tonight is still on,” she panted with a terribly feisty grin. “Definitely on. And tomorrow, too.”
Tristan kissed her slow while still also grinning like a fool.
“Unless you can’t do it that often,” she asked.
He chuckled, “I can do it as often as you can keep up with it. I don’t think you want to try that theory, either, Angel. You’re gonna need to walk again eventually.”
Her glittering eyes told him she was up for the challenge.
He just wanted to stay where he was and linger with her in bed, explore her body further, and make her climax again. Instead, he pulled back and said, “We need to go down.”
“Right. Suspicion and all,” she teased and pressed her hips upward against him.
“No, geeze,” he reprimanded, pushed her hips back down with one hand, and withdrew from her as he felt himself growing hard again already. “I’m not a machine.” He could be for her.
“It feels like you are.”
“You’re awfully demanding. And…surprising,” he said as he pulled his shirt over his head, retrieved his other clothes from the bathroom and pulled those on, too. Instead of round two, he grabbed a washrag to clean her up.
She was still on the bed languishing in the afterglow as he swiped the washcloth gently against her, “Surprising. Why?”
“I just didn’t expect that,” he said and leaned over her, pressing his hands into the pillow on either side of her head. “You’re a little hellion in bed, Avery Andersson.”
She bit her lower lip and grinned. Tristan kissed her grin away. He didn’t care if this was the first time she’d smiled in the past week. If sex was going to help her get through her depression, then he was signing up to fill the position of sex slave. That new title worked just fine for him.
“Take your time,” he said and kissed her again. “I’ll tell them you…”
“Just had the best sex ever?”
He chuckled, “How would you even know, homeschool girl? It’s not like you have anything to compare it to.”
She smiled widely and rolled to her side, “Oh, I know.”
“Maybe I’ll tell them something else,” he teased and kissed her forehead. She was right about the sex, too. It was the best he’d ever had. All that bullshit about sex being better when you were in love really was true, after all. Who knew?
She laughed as he left and closed the door behind him.
Damn.
Tristan leaned his back against the closed door for a second and considered what just happened. If he thought the world had fallen apart quickly, his relationship with Avery just blew those stats out of the water. They went from zero to finish line in the span of less than an hour, and he wasn’t even sure how it happened. Before this morning, he wasn’t entirely sure she even liked him as a person, let alone was attracted to him. He’d never even tried to kiss her yet. There were many times he’d wanted to but hadn’t attempted it. She was so above him in every single way.
It wasn’t until he was outside greeting their friends that he remembered he didn’t help her cover her stitches. She could probably manage, though. He’d only been doing it for her because she was in a depression slump and didn’t seem to want to take care of herself. The same reason he’d been getting her out of bed and damn near dressing her every day.
“Ready for tonight?” Spencer asked him.
“Yeah, you?” he got a nod in return from his friend and now most trusted ally.
“Where’s Ave?” Renee asked.
“Coming. She’s just finishing taking care of her bandages and getting dressed.”
Renee frowned and said, “Is she any better today?”
“Yeah, uh, a little,” he said and had to fold his arms over his chest and cover the lower half of his face with the palm of one hand. He hoped it came off as studious and not smug. He was trying to hide a smile as he remembered her naked beneath him. Yes, her mood was certainly better today. Sexy Avery clawing his back was better than zombie Avery moping around in yesterday’s clothing.
“We need to talk,” Renee said, and her eyes darted to the house. “When Ave…oh, there she is.”
“Let’s go in,” he offered and sent a wave to Kaia, who was throwing her knives with Finnegan. She returned it, silently letting him know she’d watch her little brother. He showed Spencer and Renee inside. “Have a seat. Let me get her.”
He found Avery in the pantry down the hall digging out a box of cookies probably to set out for the others. He had to bite his lower lip at the sight of her in the outfit he’d chosen for her. He hadn’t meant for it to look so damn sexy, but it did on her. Or maybe it was so sexy because he knew another side of her now and what was beneath those clothes.
“Hey,” he said, startling her. Tristan walked in and slipped an arm around her waist from behind and nuzzled her neck.
“Can’t wait till tonight?
He smiled. “Hell, no.”
She turned in his arms and leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss his chin. Her own chin was a little red, probably from his beard. Might be a good time to shave his face clean. He led her back toward the dining room. “Were you able to get your stitches covered, Angel?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Nothing…pulling or seeping?”
She shot him a sassy look, “No, why would they be?”
He returned her sass with a look of his own that let her know she’d pay for that later. Spencer and Renee were sitting with Abraham, and Avery placed the cookies there. Then she retrieved a pitcher of water and glasses. The milk was gone. It wasn’t going to be replaced unless they stole a cow.
“So, tonight we’re going to the base,” Spencer started their meeting. “We’ll take Abraham with us. Our lieutenant is going to be there and let us in. We’re bringing him a bottle of antibiotics, a bottle of painkillers, and ten silver pieces. Whatever’s on the base, we’re splitting with him two ways.”
“Where are we going to get silver pieces, like jewelry or something?” Avery asked.
“No, I’ve got silver,” he explained. “Sorry, I should’ve told you. We’ve just been so busy. When I was in the service, I never kept an apartment here in the states, never bought a house. I just bought silver every month. As an investment, you know.”
“Where was it? On your base?”
He smiled gently. “Nah, I had a storage locker up north of here.”
“Why…?” she started to question.
“Yeah, I’m from Ohio,” he answered and got a surprised look from her. They’d just had amazing sex, he was batshit crazy in love with her, and still, they knew so little about each other. Even though that’s how he used to prefer it with women, with Avery, it felt wrong. “My old man still lived up around Cleveland, so I’d pay him one coin a month to get my silver shipments out of the post office box I had and take it to my storage unit. When you were out, I drove up there and emptied my unit.”
“Oh, wow. How much do you have?”
He grinned. “Enough. I never thought I’d be using it to barter during an apocalypse, but well, there it is.”
“Wait, we can help, too. I don’t want you to use all your silver to buy things for us, Tristan,” she said gently, laying her hand on his arm.
It softened his heart that she thought again that she was a burden. She was far from it. The only reason he bought the silver was that he just had wads of cash in his safety deposit box and a bank teller once told him to invest his money in something. He couldn’t do real estate because he wouldn’t be home to deal with that. He didn’t trust the stock market, but he did like being able to hold his investment in his hand.
“Not necessary.” He noticed she didn’t remove her hand from his forearm. She must not have cared if anyone knew about them.
“But my father keeps money in the safe downstairs. I know he does. My parents told me if anything ever happened to them that I should get in there.”
“I don’t think anyone wants paper cash anymore, Ave,” Renee told her.
“Oh,” she remarked softly.
“Anyway, you and I can talk later,” he told her and covered her hand with his. She still had a yellowing greenish bruise on the back of her hand from that IV. It was a reminder that he’d almost lost her. He didn’t like that feeling. “Let’s go over tonight’s plans. Then we’ll eat and get ready.”
They all nodded, and Abraham came into the room. He inclined his head in greeting to everyone and took his seat. Her little brother wore the pistol Tristan gave him on his hip like a gunslinger in the Old West. Tristan didn’t mind. The kid needed protection. He wanted to help more in that role over the others, too. He was a good kid who’d been through a lot lately, and Tristan figured he could use all the help he could get. Protecting Avery and the kids was his new, number one priority in life.