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Protect & Serve(83)

By:Nikki Wild


I could usually be very open with Franklin, but the idea of involving him even the slightest bit in this scandalous behavior—even as a confidante—was not something I was willing to do.

I wasn’t at all surprised when I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket, though when I looked to check the number I was shocked to find that it was Tristan and not Tina who was calling me.

“Hello?” I said as I put the phone to my ear.

“Gwen,” Tristan said, almost sounding relieved to hear my voice. The thought made my heart flutter like a bird. “I need to apologize for this morning.”

“As well you should,” I said, scowling. “I’ve half a mind to hang up right now and let you choke on your damn apology.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, heaving a sigh. “I was a complete ass and I didn’t mean to upset you. I let my mouth get ahead of my brain and ended up chewing on my foot.”

“That’s an interesting way of saying you’re a complete twit,” I muttered, sighing as I relaxed against the back seat of my car. I glanced over toward the divider between Franklin and I, careful not to let too much on as to who I might have been talking to. As though he’d read my thoughts, I watched the privacy shield slide up between us, blocking him from view behind its reflective surface. “Is that all?”

“Of course not,” he said defensively. “I don’t want you to be upset with me over something as stupid as a bad joke.”

“You know that that wasn’t a joke to me, Tristan,” I said. “I’d told you those things in all confidence and for you to just say something like that? Can you even imagine how that made me feel?”

“You’re right,” he said. “I brought up the past when I know how much that part of your life hurts you. I was an insensitive prick, and you deserved better from me.”

“You’re damn right I do,” I said, an angry brand of confidence rising up inside of me. “I deserve much better treatment than that. Especially from you, Tristan Wolfe.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, each time sounding better than the last. “I’ll say it as many times as it takes for you to forgive me. Right now that’s all I want.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Despite my better judgement I could only hope that by trying to get back into my good graces he had meant what he said about his title and inheritance not mattering, and that he wanted to be with me. More thoughts of the night before danced through my head as I leaned my head farther back against the headrest.

“And what if I don’t forgive you, what then?” I asked, my tone leaning toward almost being flirtatious. I wanted to see how he’d react to the thought of being teased and made to work for my forgiveness.”

“I’ll do anything you ask,” he said determinedly, “we can’t be at odds when we both have a lot of work ahead of us.”

I didn’t understand. What kind of work could he be talking about. Surely, making our relationship work—especially if it was going to be a secret—would take a great deal of effort, but I got the feeling that he was distinctly referring to something else entirely.

“Sorry, I don’t think I understand what you mean,” I said, my voice faltering just slightly. Hadn’t we already passed through the hardest part? If the two of us were going to have a go of it I didn’t see what “work” there he had in mind. The way he’d said it made me nervous, a sense of dread building in my gut.

“We still need to find me a wife, don’t we?” he asked, and all at once I could feel myself falling to pieces. How could he still be intent on finding a wife? If he didn’t care about the title, then what was the point of going through with this stupid plan of his? “I mean, you were completely right this morning—everything you said was absolutely true. I’m have no follow-through or commitment. I’ve been just terrible, but I’m determined to change that. I don’t want to be the one who ruins everything for the people around me.”

I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat as I began to understand what he was saying. He was going to try to forget everything we’d done and just move on, as though somehow that would just make it all better. He expected to throw the way he felt for me out and leave me standing there, still pining for him. I wanted to scream. I wanted to crumple in on myself and just cry until I had nothing else left.

“We need to be adults about this…” he continued on, taking my silence as a cue to carry on. “I was being childish by putting you into this situation, and I’m sorry. I should never have toyed with your emotions the way that I did. We need to do the responsible thing and go on with this as planned. It’s the only way that both of us will get what we want out of this little arrangement of ours. ”