CHAPTER EIGHT

TWO weeks later, Jayne sat on a log at the dog park, with a silent cellphone at her ear, waiting for Molly to get back on the line. Jayne whistled to Duke and Sadie, a blue-eyed Australian Shepherd from the dog agility class, who were exploring the opposite side of the grassy fenced field. The two dogs sprinted back to her.

Jayne wished she felt as carefree and playful as the dogs, but ever since Tristan had left she’d been feeling a little…off. Oh, she hadn’t retreated into the house like her mother had used to do when her father went away, and the way Jayne had done after the breakup with Rich. This time she had gone out—and even made new friends. But she couldn’t stop thinking about Tristan and his kiss, a kiss that had stolen her breath and made her rethink…well, everything.

That ride on the gondola with him had opened her up to so many different possibilities—ones she’d never imagined. She felt as if her world had been turned upside down, but she had no idea how to turn it right side up again.

Truth was, Jayne wasn’t sure she wanted to.

“I’m back,” Molly announced.

Jayne adjusted the cellphone at her ear.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting like that.” Molly’s voice came across so clear, as if she were only across town instead of in another state. “Linc had a question from the contractor about the new house that needed answering right away.”

“You’ll be back in San Diego before you know it.”

“I can’t wait,” her former roommate said. “Though you won’t recognize me. I’m huge. I’m sure people think I’m having twins.”

Molly sounded as if she was smiling. That made Jayne happy. “I saw your picture on Facebook. You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” Molly laughed. “But I swear I’ve grown out another foot since Linc took that photo. You need to come here and see my gigantic stomach for yourself. I miss you, Jayne. Serena and Alex would love to see you, too.”

The invitation hung in the air. Jayne swallowed.

“I miss you, too.” She watched the dogs chase a bird. “I’ll come soon.”

“Before the baby arrives?”

The hope in Molly’s voice pulled at Jayne’s heart. “Yes. I’m sorry I haven’t come sooner. I got stuck in at rut and didn’t feel like doing much. But not any longer.”

“What’s changed?” Molly asked.

“Tristan.” Jayne hoped he was well. Safe. Happy. “Though he’s gone now.”

“Gone? Where?”

She pressed her lips together to keep from sighing. “Central America.”

“You miss him?”

Her friend knew her too well. “I do, which is really silly.”

“Why silly?”

“One date and one kiss don’t mean anything.”

“Not usually. But this was one very romantic date and one totally toe-curling kiss,” Molly reassured her. “Besides, you’ve spent more time than that together.”

“We’re just having fun,” Jayne protested weakly. Tristan’s kiss had made her lips throb, her heart go pitter-pat and her mind think way too serious thoughts. She’d felt herself falling hard and fast. She’d wanted—no—needed to pull back. She had to remind herself what spending time with Tristan was all about. And what it wasn’t about—a potential long-term relationship.

“Tristan says…” She stopped.

“What?”

“He thinks I need to get out more. Let go more. Have more fun.”

“Mmm. Sounds exciting.”

It was.

“Maybe too exciting,” Jayne admitted. “I’ve never been a risk taker.”

“True, but is Tristan changing your mind?”

“No, I told you—we’re just… I stopped looking for love after Rich.”

“Be careful,” Molly cautioned. “In my experience, that’s when love finds you.”

“I thought about that,” Jayne said. “The way you and Linc got together. Alex and Wyatt. Serena and Jonas, too.”

“And now you and Tristan?” The concern in Molly’s voice was unmistakable. “Are things more serious than you’re letting on?”

“Definitely not serious.” Jayne hastened to reassure her. “Okay, I admit I imagined the two of us living in that cute fixer-upper cottage he took me to, even though he’d prefer living in a beachfront condo. But daydreaming is a long way from reality. I can fantasize with the best of them, but there’s no way I can delude myself into thinking a relationship with him could ever work.”

“Just remember,” Molly said gently, “even if you think it couldn’t be him you don’t always get a lot of choice when Cupid shoots his arrow.”

“Cupid better aim elsewhere, because I know it’s not Tristan.”

“You sound so certain.”

“I am.” Jayne kept an eye on the dogs. “Look at Tristan’s job. He travels all over the world to take photographs. When he’s not working he still likes to globetrot. I hate traveling.”

“You hated living in so many different places,” Molly countered. “You haven’t really traveled in years.”

“He’d still be gone all the time. It would be just like my parents. I could never be happy in a marriage like that.”

“No, you couldn’t,” Molly agreed.

“Besides, even mentioning marriage is a moot point. Tristan doesn’t want to get married again.”

“You’ve put some thought into this.” Molly sounded amused.

“A little. And I keep coming to the same conclusion. A relationship is out of the question.”

“Does Rich have anything to do with this?”

“No,” Jayne said certainly. “I’m so over Rich.”

“I meant because Tristan is Rich’s friend.”

“Oh. Maybe at first.”

“Because, as much as I hate to see you rush into anything, being Rich’s friend doesn’t mean Tristan’s anything like him.”

“I know,” Jayne admitted. “But I’m still me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Molly asked. “I haven’t seen you in a while. For all I know this could be a rebound or a transition relationship after Rich. You and Tristan do sound very different, but he seems to make you happy—happier than you’ve sounded in months. That’s not a bad thing, Jayne.”

“Being with him does make me happy.” She’d had so much fun and excitement. Except everything he made her feel was the polar opposite of what she’d been craving all these years. She’d believed stability and commitment would make her happy. Yet she couldn’t deny the happiness she felt with Tristan. “I guess I just never expected to feel this way with him.”

“You never do,” Molly admitted. “But promise me you won’t do anything rash where Tristan’s concerned. Doing that can have life-altering consequences.”

Jayne thought about Molly’s decision to spend the night with a total stranger when they were in Las Vegas. “Things worked out great for you.”

“That’s because Linc and I love each other. Things could have turned out very differently,” she cautioned. “You’ve been through so much already. I don’t want you to do something that will end up hurting you.”

“I promise, Moll.” Jayne appreciated her friend’s concern. The two dogs stared at her with expectant gleams in their eyes. “I just need to figure out a few things. That’s all”

“Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound like the Jayne Cavendish I know.” Worry filled Molly’s voice. “You’ve always known exactly what you want.”

Jayne tossed each dog a treat. “I know.”

That was the problem. The one she’d been dealing with ever since the night of the gondola ride.

Thanks to Tristan MacGregor, she no longer knew what she wanted. The future she’d dreamed about wasn’t as clear.

And that scared her more than anything.

 

Where was Jayne?

As Tristan sat on Mrs. Whitcomb’s porch, frustration gnawed at him. Two weeks away from Jayne hadn’t given him the distance he’d wanted, but it had clarified his feelings for her.

He and Jayne wanted different things from life, but not every relationship had to end up at the altar. He didn’t have to be her Mr. Right. He could be her Mr. Right Now.

“Thanks for letting me wait here for Jayne,” Tristan said.

“I enjoy the company.” Mrs. Whitcomb raised her carafe of coffee. “Would you like more to drink?”

The coffee was strong enough to strip barnacles from the bottom of a boat. One cup would probably keep him awake all night. “Thanks, but I still have some left.”

He appreciated the neighborly hospitality and the conversation, but impatience was making it harder for him to sit still. He glanced at his watch. “Jayne’s out kind of late for a work night.”

“You never know what kind of traffic you’ll hit these days. She and Duke will be home soon.” Mrs. Whitcomb motioned to the mountainous plate of chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin cookies. “Have more cookies.”

“I will.” Tristan took three. “I spent the last two weeks eating random meals. A few were non-edible, too.”

“Lou would have liked you. He had an adventurous soul, too.”

The affection in Mrs. Whitcomb’s voice for her late husband made Tristan believe they were one of the rare couples that had found something special. The vast majority wasn’t so lucky.

He’d spent his adulthood exploring the unknown. He’d never backed down from a challenge no matter what the risk—sometimes to life and limb. He’d thought he knew what relationships were about, but nothing had prepared him for this. For Jayne. She was both unknown and a risk, but he was ready for both.

He hoped she would accept what he was offering.

A dark four-door sedan with tinted windows pulled to the curb. The non-descript car reminded him of a vehicle from a detective show on television.

The police? Jayne?

His concern quadrupled. Tristan stood.

Mrs. Whitcomb used the porch rail to help her stand. “See—I told you they would be home soon.”

They?

A few seconds later Jayne got out of the car, placed a black and white dog with butterfly ears and an ostrich plume tail on the ground and shut the passenger door.

His heart beat faster.

He’d taken the J-peg files of her with him on his assignment, but photos couldn’t capture the essence of Jayne. Or the way her jeans cupped her bottom perfectly.

Another car door slammed.

A man, probably about his age, walked around the front of the car to the sidewalk where Jayne waited. Every one of Tristan’s muscles tensed. A blue-eyed dog followed at the strange guy’s heels. With his casually styled blond hair, wrinkled navy polo shirt and khaki shorts, he looked an awfully lot like Rich. Except for that carefully nondescript car.

Jayne’s type?

Tristan set his jaw. “Who’s that?”

“Kenny… I can’t remember his last name. He attends Duke’s dog agility class.” Mrs. Whitcomb said. “He had an errand to run, so Jayne offered to take the dogs to the park. I think Duke has a crush on Kenny’s dog Sadie.”

Jayne laughed at something the guy said.

Tristan thought Sadie’s owner had a crush on Jayne. He clenched his hands.

Mrs. Whitcomb sighed. “The two of them look so good together.”

The guy touched the small of Jayne’s back. The possessive touch had Tristan ready to hurdle the porch rail and tackle Kenny head-on.

“That guy does not look good with Jayne.”

“I was talking about the dogs.”

Tristan charged down the steps. He positioned himself in front of Mrs. Whitcomb’s porch. No way could Jayne miss seeing him or Kenny get around him.

Duke scampered ahead of them. The sissy dog barked at Tristan. He had to be careful not to step on the damn thing.

Jayne looked toward the house.

Damn, she was gorgeous. Not just her face and her body, but her heart.

He knew the minute she saw him. Her smile widened and spread all the way to her eyes.

His breath caught in his throat.

“Tristan.” Jayne quickened her steps, and he met her halfway down the front walk. “You’re back.”

“I am.” He sized up the blond guy and nodded in acknowledgment. “Tristan MacGregor.”

“Kenny Robertson,” the other man introduced himself. He looked from Tristan, to Mrs. Whitcomb on the porch, to Jayne, obviously waiting for an explanation.

Let him wonder, Tristan thought.

“Tristan’s a friend of mine,” Jayne said.

The word “friend” grated like fingernails against chalk-board. Tristan had thought that kiss on the gondola had made it clear he wanted to be more than friends. Guess not.

She continued. “He’s a photojournalist and has been out of the country on an assignment.”

Kenny’s stance relaxed slightly. He offered his hand. “Nice to meet a friend of Jayne’s.”

Tristan bared his teeth in a smile, feeling like a dog with a bone. He tightened his grip. Kenny did the same.

Jayne’s brow creased as she apparently picked up on the unspoken tension. “Tristan is the one who told me to stop being such a homebody and get out of the house more.”

“Right before he left the country?” Kenny asked.

“I was only gone two weeks,” Tristan said.

“Well, it’s been a great two weeks.” The guy made puppy eyes at Jayne. “Jayne is an amazing social director.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows. “Social director?”

She nodded, her cheeks pink with enthusiasm. Or maybe embarrassment. “For the dog agility class. I’ve been organizing get-togethers and events for people outside of class.”

“You’d be good at that,” Tristan said.

“Jayne’s great at it,” Kenny said.

The color on her cheeks deepened. “It’s given me something to do.”

“I have something to do. It’s past Duke’s bedtime,” Mrs. Whitcomb announced. “We’re going to call it a night.”

“I’d better get going, too.” Kenny rubbed Sadie’s head. “Work tomorrow.”

“Me, too,” Jayne said.

Tristan stood his ground. He wasn’t going anywhere. “Nice to meet you, Kenny.”

The guy nodded. “See you at the next agility class, Jayne. Let me know if you want to carpool again.”

Carpool? Tristan fought the urge to grimace. Saving gas money would appeal to Jayne. The guy probably knew it and was trying to earn bonus points.

“I will,” she said.

After a chorus of goodnights, Tristan was finally alone with Jayne. About time. “Come with me to my car. I have to get something out of the trunk.”

She fell into step next to him.

“So you got out of the house?” he said.

“I’ve decided I’m not quite the homebody I thought I was.” Her smile dazzled Tristan. “Tonight Molly invited to me to visit Las Vegas again, and this time I said yes.”

“Impressive.”

Pride gleamed in her eyes. “It’s a step in the right direction.”

“I’d say you’ve taken a few steps forward.” He pulled out the bag that contained the present he’d purchased for her on his trip. “Traveling to Vegas. Becoming a social director.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Her confidence appealed to him. “I’ve enjoyed meeting some new people. Dog people, but they’re very nice.”

“Like Kenny?”

She nodded. “Making new friends has been good.”

That word again. This time applied to Kenny. Tristan didn’t mind so much. He opened the trunk.

“So good, in fact,” she continued, “I’ve decided not to get a roommate.”

Tristan closed his trunk. He was fine with her decision. It would make it easier for her to move out of the bungalow if she bought a place of her own. “You sound sure about that.”

“I am pretty sure,” she said. “So when did you get back?”

“Today. I wanted to see you right away.” He stared into her warm, clear eyes. “I missed you, Jayne.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Good.”

“I’m not so sure.”

Tristan realized she wasn’t smiling. He noticed Mrs. Whitcomb peeking out her window. “Why don’t we talk about this inside?”

Jayne nodded, and he followed her into the house.

He set the bag on the coffee table. “Tell me what you’re not sure about.”

She looked up, down, around. Everywhere but at him.

Not a good sign.

He had a pretty good idea what the problem was. “It’s me?”

Her startled gaze met his. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

That caught him off guard. “You?”

Jayne nodded, her eyes clouded with unease. She wrung her hands. “After what happened with Rich I don’t trust my judgment when it comes to relationships. Men.”

Damn. Tristan wanted to go back and make things right. “It’s not your fault Rich wasn’t ready for marriage.”

Lines creased her forehead. “But I thought… He said… I was so sure…”

“This is a completely different situation.” Tristan wanted to take away her uncertainty. “Rich didn’t know what he wanted. I’ve been honest with you from the beginning about what I want and don’t want.”

“You have.”

“You know what you need to know about me,” Tristan said firmly.

Her anxious face looked up at him. “Do I?”

A tense silence filled the living room.

He thought about his role in her and Rich’s breakup. Telling her the truth would only make her mistrust herself more. Yet Tristan had learned from his first marriage the importance of honesty in a relationship if you wanted to share a future.

“Let’s talk about what happened with Rich.”

“Let’s not,” Jayne said without any hesitation. “The past is in the past, remember? I don’t need to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

This wasn’t the first time she’d talked about putting the past behind her. “Fine.”

What else could he say? Do?

Nothing good would come of the discussion anyway. Honesty was important, but it wouldn’t change anything between them. He and Jayne weren’t looking to share a future. They didn’t want the same future.

Happily-right-now.

That was all Tristan could offer Jayne.

He hoped it would be enough for her.

Tristan picked up the bag from the table and handed it to her. “I brought you something from Honduras.”

 

“The bowl and candlesticks are lovely.” Warmth flowed through Jayne as she sat at the kitchen table with Tristan. The black and white handcrafted Lenca Pottery was her new centerpiece. “Thank you.”

Tristan placed his spoon in his ice cream bowl. “I thought they might come in handy when you have people over for those big dinners you mentioned.”

The gift pleased Jayne, but confused her, too. “You seem to know me pretty well.”

He shrugged. “I saw them in a window and thought of you.”

His present symbolized hearth and home, gatherings of family and friends. All the things he claimed not to want or care about. “They’re perfect.”

Tristan’s mouth curved into an easy smile. His lips looked soft and welcoming, the kind meant for long, slow, hot kisses. The kind of kisses he gave.

She felt a flutter in her chest. “You’ll have to come to one of my dinners.”

“Just tell me when.”

Jayne reached out and touched one of the matching candlesticks with her fingertips.

“In case you were wondering—” his eyes twinkled with amusement “—I paid cash. You must be rubbing off on me.”

His lighthearted tone teased, but his words sparked a connection. Jayne could sense something drawing them together as if they were magnets. Perhaps opposites did attract.

“That makes them even more special,” she said. “I wish I had something to give you.”

The amusement sharpened. “You gave me ice cream.”

“I definitely got the better end of the deal.”

Tristan laughed. “You could give me a proper welcome home.”

Before she could respond, he’d scooted his chair closer. He wrapped his arms around her in a comfortable embrace.

An intoxicating aroma of soap and male surrounded her.

A sigh threatened to escape.

Her hands splayed over his back. Underneath the fabric of his button-down shirt she felt muscular ridges against her palms and fingers.

Welcome home had never felt so good.

Jayne felt right at home. Safe. Secure. A way she hadn’t felt in months. A way she’d never expected to feel with Tristan.

Maybe she did know all she needed to know about him.

She knew Tristan didn’t believe in forever, but he made her happy. Molly was right about that. He’d also brought fun back into Jayne’s life. Excitement, too. Nothing wrong with that.

He could give her more of that.

She knew better than to expect anything else from him. She wouldn’t allow herself to get carried away like she had before.

She couldn’t.

Because Tristan wanted fun, not forever.

And that, Jayne realized, was okay with her for now.

His warm breath fanned her neck. “It’s good to see you.”

Her pulse quickened. “Yes. I mean I’m pleased to see you, not me.”

“I know what you mean.” Tristan pulled her closer. “It feels even better to hold you.”

Her chest pressed against his. So solid and strong. The pounding of his heart matched her own. “Uh-huh.”

She glanced up to find him gazing down at her. His eyes so intent. His lips so close.

Her mouth went dry.

He was going to kiss her. Heaven help her, she wanted him to kiss her.

Tristan lowered his mouth to hers until their lips touched. A spark arced through her from the point of contact.

She gasped, but he didn’t back away. Nor did she.

She closed her eyes and let sensation take over. The same way she had on the gondola. Only this time they were alone. There was no one serenading them, no one watching them. She liked this much better.

He moved his lips against hers, softly and deliberately, testing and tasting.

Hot ice cream. An oxymoron, yes, but that was what Tristan’s kiss tasted like tonight, and it would be her new favorite flavor.

Eager for more, she leaned into him.

His lips moved expertly over hers. She found a sense of belonging, the home she’d always dreamed about. His jean-clad leg pressed into her. His tongue explored and danced with hers. Her insides hummed.

Tristan kissed her so thoroughly, so completely.

She wanted him to keep kissing her. She needed him to keep kissing her.

Slowly he drew the kiss to an end and sat back.

Her lips sizzled.

She wished the kiss hadn’t ended.

Jayne didn’t know how long they sat at the table staring at each other. He looked the way she felt.

Happy. Turned-on. Hungry for more.

She took a deep breath. “So…”

“So let’s go to Vegas.”

She stared at him, stunned. Images of the chapel where Serena had eloped and the hotel where Molly had spent the night swirled through Jayne’s mind. “Vegas?”

He nodded. “You said you were going. Let’s go together. You can see your friends. They can meet me and tell you how great I am for you.”

She laughed, relieved to know what he was thinking, but a tad disappointed, too. “You think that’s what they’ll say?”

“Yep.”

His confidence didn’t surprise her. She wished some of it would rub off on her. “You’re really up for this?”

“I really am,” he said, without the slightest hesitation. “Call Molly and see if this weekend works.”

That sounded dangerous and wild and so appealing—because Jayne hadn’t done anything like that since saying yes to Rich’s marriage proposal after only a month of dating. She wanted to know that things could work out better than her ill-fated engagement. “Just like that?”

“Yes, Jayne,” Tristan said.

The way he said her name made her feel all tingly. Her tummy felt like a butterfly house.

Promise me you won’t do anything rash where Tristan’s concerned.

Jayne remembered Molly’s words as well as the fun her three friends had had in Vegas.

Uh-oh. A weekend out of town in a place known as Sin City. They would spend a night or two in a hotel. Tristan might assume—would probably assume—that meant staying in the same room and sharing the same…

Her insides quivered. “I—”

“What’s wrong?”

She raised her chin. “Why do you think anything’s wrong?”

He touched her forehead with his fingertip. “These little lines show up when you’re either thinking or getting serious about something.”

His perception disturbed her. “I didn’t know that.”

“So tell me what’s on your mind.”

Blurting the word “sex” might not be the best move. She needed to figure out a subtle way to broach the subject. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that much fun.”

“I’m not following you.”

She thought about the queen-sized bed in her bedroom. They didn’t have to fly to Vegas to… “I don’t believe in casual sex.”

The words rushed out like the overspill from a floodgate.

Subtle, Jayne. Real subtle.

“What I mean is there’s no one else I’d rather go to Vegas with, but I’m not… I would prefer it if we had separate beds. Or rooms. I like you. A lot. And I really like kissing you. But I don’t want to rush into anything. Or do something we might regret. I understand if you’re disappointed and don’t want to go now.”

Feeling like an old-fashioned maiden, she stared at the centerpiece he’d given to her. Maybe she should forget the entire thing, get a dog, and resign herself to being single the rest of her life.

“Two rooms are fine, Jayne,” he said gently. “There are lots of ways for us to have fun that have nothing to do with sex.”

Her gaze met his in gratitude. “Thank you.”

“So Vegas is a go?”

The anticipation in his voice buzzed through her. Jayne would love to hear what her friends thought of Tristan, too, though she thought they might warn her off him. “It’s a go.”

His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, and her breath caught in her throat. “You get in touch with your friends and see if this weekend works for them. If not, find dates that do. Then I’ll make all the travel arrangements. This trip is on me.”

“That’s really generous of you, but Alex’s husband Wyatt owns a hotel. I’m sure we can get rooms—”

“Let me take care of it, Jayne.”

“But airfare and a hotel,” she countered. “It’s going to be expensive.”

“I can afford it.”

She started to speak, then stopped. She nibbled her lip.

Shut up, Jayne. Shut up.

But her training and her conscience wouldn’t let her stay quiet. “Are you sure? Because a lot of people feel that using credit—”

“Jayne.” He scooted his chair closer. He took her hands in his strong, reassuring clasp. “I can afford it.”

“If you were super-rich you could.”

He nodded.

Oh, man. She almost slid off her chair.

“My dad has a plane we can use, too.”

All the pieces fell together. Paying off his credit card each month. Working for his father. Growing up in a big house. Traveling the globe to take photographs.

He was serious. He was rich. Really rich.

Even if he didn’t wear designer clothing or drive a flashy car or live…

She sighed. “I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not.”

“We’re even more different than I thought.” Tristan had grown up with a silver spoon. Hers had been plastic. “And here I was, giving you financial advice.”

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “You gave me very good advice that I needed to hear.”

Jayne appreciated his words, and the sincerity in his eyes. She smiled. “Well, you’re making sure I have the fun I need.”

“We’re a good team.”

She nodded. Team, not couple. She just had to remember that.