be it. Hiding the scar wouldn't change their minds.
"Beautiful?" he prompted, shooting her a worried glance. "What's wrong?"
"I'm okay. Just thinking," she said.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Your aunt and uncle."
"They'll love you," he promised, lifting her hand to his lips to brush his mouth across her knuckles. "Zoë is thrilled you're coming with me."
A soft smile curved her lips upward. "I like Zoë."
"She feels the same about you."
"Can I ask you a question?" Lillian shifted in her seat to face him, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. They'd spent the day making love and watching movies in his massive bed, simply being together. She didn't want to ruin the easy peace between them now.
"Anything."
"You told me that you only live at the penthouse when you're working?" she prompted, hoping he'd explain without her flat out demanding to know where he lived when he wasn't working. Not knowing bothered her, though she wasn't sure why. Maybe because the penthouse was more glass cage than home. She hated the thought that he had no real home, no place where he could simply be Tristan.
"There's a cottage on the edge of my aunt and uncle's property," he responded after a brief hesitation. "I stay there sometimes."
"Oh. Do you stay there often?"
"No."
"Why not? I bet they love having you around."
He shrugged, not saying anything.
"Please tell me," she whispered, knowing he was holding something back, something he didn't want to share with her.
"It's not safe for them," he said as he flipped on the blinker and slowed. "I can't lose anyone else I care about, so I stay in the penthouse."
"But it's not home to you."
"No. I don't know where home is."
Her heart ached for him. The vulnerable longing in his voice made her eyes watery. "Do you ever get to just be yourself?" she asked as he turned onto a gravel lane close enough to still be considered Seattle, but far enough removed from the hustle and bustle to seem entirely apart.
"I do," he answered as the road expanded into a driveway. A massive house loomed into view, all natural wood and glass. The evening sunlight glinted off the upper floor, creating a prism of colors. Trees grew wild around the property, soaking up the brilliant glow.
He parked the car behind a dark Acadia and a red Mini and turned to face her.
"With you, I get to be Tristan."
Her stomach flip-flopped at his soft words and warm, reverent gaze.
God, she loved this man.
"I love that," she confessed. That he felt safe enough to be himself with her—that he trusted her enough to give her that piece of him—said more than any words ever could.
He smiled and brushed his lips across her knuckles once more. "Ready to meet my family?"
"I'm ready," she said, taking a deep breath.
Still grinning, he climbed out of the car before circling around to help her out. The Viper sat a little too low to the ground to make it easy, but Tristan was, as ever, one step ahead. He wrapped his hands around hers and took the brunt of her weight as he pulled her effortlessly to her feet.
"Steady?" he murmured in her ear as he tugged her into his arms.
"Yes," she said, her heartbeat speeding like it always did when he touched her.
He wound one arm around her waist and the other around her neck, tilting her face up to him. Burning blue captured her gaze, captivating her. His lips brushed across hers. She opened for him, her tongue darting out to glide languidly across his for a long, perfect moment. Heat and desire unwound low in her belly, licking up her spine and immersing her in him.
"You're too good at that, sweetheart," he whispered as he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. His breath was as unsteady as her own, his eyes dilated with desire.
"So are you."
He groaned and shook his head.
"What?"
"I want you," he answered, pressing his body to hers until the hard ridge of his cock nudged her stomach, and then he stepped back to tuck her into his side. "Tonight is going to be
"Beautiful?" he prompted, shooting her a worried glance. "What's wrong?"
"I'm okay. Just thinking," she said.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Your aunt and uncle."
"They'll love you," he promised, lifting her hand to his lips to brush his mouth across her knuckles. "Zoë is thrilled you're coming with me."
A soft smile curved her lips upward. "I like Zoë."
"She feels the same about you."
"Can I ask you a question?" Lillian shifted in her seat to face him, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. They'd spent the day making love and watching movies in his massive bed, simply being together. She didn't want to ruin the easy peace between them now.
"Anything."
"You told me that you only live at the penthouse when you're working?" she prompted, hoping he'd explain without her flat out demanding to know where he lived when he wasn't working. Not knowing bothered her, though she wasn't sure why. Maybe because the penthouse was more glass cage than home. She hated the thought that he had no real home, no place where he could simply be Tristan.
"There's a cottage on the edge of my aunt and uncle's property," he responded after a brief hesitation. "I stay there sometimes."
"Oh. Do you stay there often?"
"No."
"Why not? I bet they love having you around."
He shrugged, not saying anything.
"Please tell me," she whispered, knowing he was holding something back, something he didn't want to share with her.
"It's not safe for them," he said as he flipped on the blinker and slowed. "I can't lose anyone else I care about, so I stay in the penthouse."
"But it's not home to you."
"No. I don't know where home is."
Her heart ached for him. The vulnerable longing in his voice made her eyes watery. "Do you ever get to just be yourself?" she asked as he turned onto a gravel lane close enough to still be considered Seattle, but far enough removed from the hustle and bustle to seem entirely apart.
"I do," he answered as the road expanded into a driveway. A massive house loomed into view, all natural wood and glass. The evening sunlight glinted off the upper floor, creating a prism of colors. Trees grew wild around the property, soaking up the brilliant glow.
He parked the car behind a dark Acadia and a red Mini and turned to face her.
"With you, I get to be Tristan."
Her stomach flip-flopped at his soft words and warm, reverent gaze.
God, she loved this man.
"I love that," she confessed. That he felt safe enough to be himself with her—that he trusted her enough to give her that piece of him—said more than any words ever could.
He smiled and brushed his lips across her knuckles once more. "Ready to meet my family?"
"I'm ready," she said, taking a deep breath.
Still grinning, he climbed out of the car before circling around to help her out. The Viper sat a little too low to the ground to make it easy, but Tristan was, as ever, one step ahead. He wrapped his hands around hers and took the brunt of her weight as he pulled her effortlessly to her feet.
"Steady?" he murmured in her ear as he tugged her into his arms.
"Yes," she said, her heartbeat speeding like it always did when he touched her.
He wound one arm around her waist and the other around her neck, tilting her face up to him. Burning blue captured her gaze, captivating her. His lips brushed across hers. She opened for him, her tongue darting out to glide languidly across his for a long, perfect moment. Heat and desire unwound low in her belly, licking up her spine and immersing her in him.
"You're too good at that, sweetheart," he whispered as he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. His breath was as unsteady as her own, his eyes dilated with desire.
"So are you."
He groaned and shook his head.
"What?"
"I want you," he answered, pressing his body to hers until the hard ridge of his cock nudged her stomach, and then he stepped back to tuck her into his side. "Tonight is going to be
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