Then Tristan trailed kisses down my neck, across my shoulder, and down my arm, and I realized why my normal behavior was changing. Tristan. His presence in my bed had coated my responsible, organized routine with a fuzzy sheen of dreamlike euphoria. We hadn't even made love properly, yet I could not pull myself away from him. It was like being hypnotized without needing to watch an object swinging in front of my eyes. His voice, his touch, his lips lulled me into a constant state of vulnerability on the verge of irresponsibility. I would gladly face getting fired for one more hour in his arms.
I reached behind me, but he wasn't under the covers. "Why are you … ," I began to ask, turning to find him fully dressed and on top of my blankets.
As I lay on my back, he rested his arm across my chest. "I've been at work for three hours already," he explained. "You didn't stir when I left, so I thought I'd take ten minutes and check on you. I found your alarm going off and you dead to the world."
I groaned.
"Come on, last night wasn't that bad."
"Not bad? I think the Spanish Inquisition had less questions."
"I should be the one mentally exhausted, not you. She asked me more about myself than the naval recruiter. If I can handle it, you should be fine."
I rubbed his arm affectionately. "I'm worried she disapproves."
He gave me a look. "She doesn't. I'm pretty sure she liked me. But Grant, even if she doesn't, you couldn't have thought this would go smoothly. People are going to give us a hard time. We met and got married in four weeks, after only one real date. It will take time to prove to friends and family that we're serious."
What he said was true, but I didn't want to think that my friends and my family would be as skeptical as everyone else. "I guess," I pouted. "I don't want to go to work."
"Why not? I thought you said you loved your job."
"I do, but I just don't want to deal with people. My boss noticed my ring yesterday."
"And?" he asked as if he didn't see the problem.
"And she all but laughed at it." I lowered my eyes and studied the ring on my finger.
"Why?"
I felt that damn emotion surging again. Somehow, since meeting Tristan, I'd become the kind of guy to cry at every little thing. I couldn't understand it, but it was real. "She said it was a very girly ring." I didn't want to think about it, but I couldn't keep anything from Tristan.
"Is that why you were out of sorts last night, even before the conversation about kids?"
I nodded pathetically.
He touched my hand and turned the ring as if examining it. "It's not masculine, that's for sure."
"I don't need you siding with her," I whined, on the verge of tears.
"No. I'm agreeing that it's not manly, but that doesn't mean I like what she said. It's your ring, and she shouldn't make you feel bad for choosing it."
"Do you think I should get a different one? Maybe something simple?" I couldn't look him in the eyes as I asked, because I was afraid of his answer.
"No," he answered firmly, maneuvering so he was leaning on my chest and looking me straight in the eyes. "The look on your face when I slipped that ring on your finger in the jewelry store took my breath away. It was the closest I've ever been to a real-life fairy tale. I have a daughter, Grant. I've seen more chick flicks than I care to admit, and there's one thing they all have in common: the princess always wants to be swept off her feet by the prince."
Tristan brought my left hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it. "You are my princess, Grant, and I refuse to allow you to give in to anyone's preconceived notion of what is acceptable as a wedding ring. This one," he stressed, squeezing my hand, "made your eyes shine. And this one is the one you should have. You tell your boss to go screw herself."
I laughed even as I wanted to cry. "Thank you."
He scooted up my body and kissed me. "You're welcome. If you decide to play hooky from work, you could go to my place, or search online for a maid service to finish it."
"I think I'll give it another try. It's pretty gross, but I don't think a maid service sorts through personal belongings. They mainly clean. I'll go through your crap and make a pile out back for you to take to the dump."
He smiled. "Thank you. If you come across any eight-legged critters, I bought a can of bug spray that shoots twenty feet. You can kill them without getting close enough to get jumped on."
"You have no idea how comforting it is to hear you helping and not laughing." I'd heard my share of laughing for a while.
"I'll never laugh at you. Laughing with you is different, and I do find the things you do amusing, but I hope you know I don't mean it maliciously."
"I do," I admitted. "The way you look at me says you enjoy me … like really enjoy me."
Tristan slid his hands under my shoulders and kissed me again. He was lying completely on top of me, but the stupid blankets in between us prevented me from wrapping my legs around him. But I wanted to. I held the back of his head with one hand and caressed his neck with the other while he plundered my mouth. He grunted as he wiggled his hips and spread his knees apart. He was hard now, rocking against me. He released my mouth, but only so he could give me another hickey, this time on my throat. I think he liked marking me, and I was not about to complain when the slight stinging on my neck traveled as tiny tingles all the way down to my toes. I wanted more tingles.
"Mmm, more," I urged.
He chuckled deep in his throat and kissed his way down my neck, then moved the sheet and kissed down the center of my chest. I thought he'd keep going all the way down to the throbbing part that seriously wanted attention, but he stopped when his cell phone rang.
He fished it out. "Hello?" He listened and nodded. "Yeah. Okay. I will. Be there in a minute." He hung up and sighed. "I'm sorry, baby. I gotta go. Will said there were some bugs behind a cabinet or something. I need to figure out what he's talking about before anyone goes to lunch." He crawled off me and stood next to the bed. "I'll see you later. I'll grab some clothes after work and spend the night here, okay?"
I nodded.
He kissed me and left.
AFTER CALLING in sick to work, I cleaned out more of his shit, but I didn't come across any more spiders. Thank God. I ventured upstairs for the first time and found that Claire's room was the only clean one up there other than the bathroom. Three other bedrooms were piled to the ceiling with crap older than the Jurassic period. Or was it an age? I wasn't sure. Anyway, Tristan was almost ready to be on television for his hoarding skills, and I was not about to let that happen. I picked a room and sorted through it.
A few hours later, I heard him calling me from downstairs. "Grant? Are you here?"
"Upstairs, Tristan," I called back. I was on my hands and knees scrubbing a spot on the carpet with stain remover, and I was determined to get it out.
"Hey," he said from the doorway, leaning on the frame. "We can just replace the carpet once all this is cleared out, Grant. There's no need to expend all your energy when I can think of a few things that are way more fun."
I sat back on my legs and let out a long breath. It was tiring work. "Now you tell me," I complained, but with minimal irritation. "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you had a brake job or a lube job or a … hand job?" I grinned, thinking myself wickedly funny. It was unlike me to make lewd jokes, but something about Tristan was bringing out my inner bad boy-something I hadn't realized was in me.
He grinned back, eyes gleaming. "Oh, really? I could take you up on that." He started unzipping his work pants, and I panicked.
"No, no! I was joking. I'm not doing that here, not now. This place is dusty and full of yuckiness. Tristan, don't." I stood up as he sauntered toward me, all sexy swagger and lust. I swear the man dripped sex, but it wasn't like I had anyone to compare him to. I backed up as he kept coming, until I hit the wall behind me. "Tristan," I implored.
He grabbed both my upper arms and kissed me hard, pressing me against the wall with his entire body. I probably should have protested, seeing how I didn't want to do anything like that in a room like this, but his kiss made me weak. Instead of pushing him away, I made involuntary cooing sounds, my body becoming more pliable as he continued kissing me.