CORAL - Fallen (A Romance Trilogy, Book 2) (12 page)

“Why are you so interested in what I do for
a living?” I ask questioningly.

“Because I think you’re wasting your
talents.” He states.

“You do?” I frown then snort sarcastically.
“And what talent is that, may I ask?”

“You’re a chef, a cook, a natural. I’m
surprised you’ve hung onto your job for so long, and you haven’t left out of
sheer boredom.” He says sarcastically.

“What?” I
scrutinise
his face.

“Most people who are creative, have
creative talents like chefs, artists, writers, actors, dancers and so on. They
are all artistic, creative personalities that are living their lives as they
are meant to. You, on the other hand, are definitely creative, yet you sit at a
desk everyday typing out what must seem like very mundane letters,” he says,
gazing down at me.

“I don’t just type letters,” I spit back at
him.

Tristan narrows his eyes at me. “I know you
don’t,” he barks and runs a hand through his hair. “Look, I want the best for
you, which means I want you to be truly happy in what you do. I want you to
wake up every morning with a big smile on your face knowing that what you’re
doing day in day out is what you truly love to do.” He says, sounding
frustrated.

“Oh!” I hadn’t thought of it like that -
Too
quick to jump the gun Coral!
I mentally castigate myself.

“Oh!” Tristan repeats my words back to me,
when I look up, I see he’s smiling at me. “So you think you can do that?” He
adds dryly.

“Think about what I want to do?” I squeak.

“Yes.” He states firmly.

I frown back t him. I’m trying to work out
if he’s right? I thought I would always be at Chester House right until I
retired, but now Tristan’s said that, I don’t know what to think. Maybe that kind
of stuff just isn’t for me?

“I don’t know Tristan,” I say biting my
lip, feeling the nerves creeping in.

“What don’t you know?” He says, with a
slight sigh.

“I just…I just think some things are best
left alone,” I answer begrudgingly.

“Like what?” he asks.

I sigh inwardly. “Like...look, I never...”
I look away from Tristan for a moment trying to gauge it right, what I’m trying
to say, it’s very difficult to have any kind of coherent thought when he’s
gazing at me like that. “Ok, so I’m in school and I’m a nightmare. My grades
are terrible and none of the teachers like me. I have no future, no prospects
and no dream. I have no goal of going into further education like college or
University, because as far as I’m concerned school sucks, big time. Like you’re
supposed to know what you want to do with your life at fourteen years of age,”
I blurt out as dryly as I can, then I continue.

“So I finish school at home, my exam
results were just...well tragic, I was so nervous about letting Gladys down if
I didn’t get high scores that I built myself up into a frenzy, and failed most
of them. I knew there was no way I was going to do it all over again. I guess I
just figured I’d go out into the world and just get a job, just like everyone
else does. I suppose, if I’m truthful, I was more concerned with keeping myself
on the straight and narrow. I didn’t want to go down the same path as my mother.
So for me, staying straight and holding down a job was, and still is a big
achievement for me. I’m not walking her path.” I take a deep breath then a big
glug of wine.

Tristan’s eyes darken. “When you say
straight and narrow?”

“Tristan I swear to god if you mention a
word of this to anyone, especially Gladys – “Coral,” Tristan barks in frustration,
interrupting me. “You should already know you have my complete trust, whatever
you tell me stays with me, I give you my word for god’s sake!”

“Fine!” I huff back. “I was drinking
alcohol and smoking pot at school, I was heading down the same path.” I say,
turning away from him.

“Ah, I see,” Tristan turns away from me and
stares out the window.

“Running for the hills yet?” I ask
observing his reaction out the corner of my eye.

“No, just thinking how bad you must have
been feeling to resort to those measures.”

“Anything to block out the pain,” I bite,
my brain to mouth filter failing on me again. I see Tristan’s
demeanour
change to shock and squeeze my eyes shut –
Coral you idiot, keep
it zipped or he’s going to find out!

“Damn it!” I hear Tristan hiss, I feel him
rising from the sofa. Opening my eyes I watch him walk into the kitchen, then
disappear from view. For a split second I feel like that’s it, he’s ending it
all, and I don’t blame him. I’m yo-yoing from one emotion to the other, it’s
tiring and I’m feeling constantly on edge in case I blurt something out that I
don’t want him to know, then it gets all uncomfortable, well it does for me,
and I’m left hanging just like now –
God damn it, where is he?

“Tristan?” I call out for him but there’s
no reply. I go to stand but see him re-appear with his mobile to his ear. “What
are you doing?” I question.

He holds his forefinger up to me. I can see
he’s deep in conversation. As I look up at the new clock on the wall, I see
it’s ten past ten in the evening. I can't help wondering who he’s speaking to
at this time on a Saturday night?

“Sorry about that,” he says joining me on
the sofa again.

“Late night bootie call,” I chuckle but
really I’m checking on him.

“No, a meeting I’d forgotten to move, so I
left a message for Susannah.” I grit my teeth,
her
.

“Ah Susannah,” I say trying not to sound
jealous. Although why I should when I have the gorgeous Tristan Freeman sitting
next to me I don’t know!

“Problem?”
Damn he’s razor sharp today!

“Nope.” I answer dryly.

He narrows his eyes at me. I stare blankly
ahead. “Want to watch a film?” he asks. I think that’s a good idea my mouth
can’t run away with me then.

“Sure, yeah...that sounds nice,” I answer
glumly. Tristan flicks on the T.V. which instantly illuminates the large room.

“Just for the record,” he says staring
ahead. “It doesn’t matter what road your parents travelled down Coral, we all
have choice and free will. So please, try to free your mind and expand it to
the possibility that there is a better, more enjoyable career out there for
you. That’s all I’m saying on the matter.” Tristan dashes a scornful look at me
then starts scrolling through the selection of films.
Hmph!

My mouth sets into a hard line, I guess
that told me!

I AM DREAMING I’M IN A BUSY
, bussling place. Steam keeps rising around me, and someone is
shouting my name. When I turn to see who it is, he shouts at me again.

“Coral, I need two beef wellies, three
salmon, and one pork loin. Pronto.” I turn around again and realise I’m in a
kitchen, a big professional kitchen. Everything is stainless steel, and there’s
lots of chefs all wearing white uniforms. When I look down at myself, I see I’m
in a white uniform too, why am I...?

“Coral?” I blink my eyes open and see
Tristan gazing down at me. “Good morning sleepyhead.”

“Hi,” I croak, blinking around the room. Tristan
is sitting on the bed fully dressed and he smells divine. I lean up on my
elbows. “You’re up already?” I grumble.

“Yes, we have a big day today,” he tells
me. It takes me a moment to ascertain what he means. Then it comes to me –
The
Car!

“Yes!” I beam, almost jumping out of bed.

“Stay where you are,” he tells me. Then
hands me a big glass of what looks like my vegetable juice. “How did you’ –
“Guessed. Try it. Tell me if I got it right.” I take a tentative sip –
Perfect!

“Delicious,” I answer. “You should have one
too, it’s good for you,” I add.

“Already have.” I narrow my eyes at him and
drink the remaining juice. “Oh…I had a really weird dream?” I say staring
blankly ahead trying to remember it.

“And?” He chuckles.

“I was in a chef’s uniform. I think I was
running a restaurant?” I say

“Hmm, sounds like you’ve been thinking
about what I said,” he says, his face looks smug.

“Well forget it, it’s very long hours,
working weekends, I’d never get to see you,” I say sullenly.

“Hmm,” Tristan is not convinced. “Come on,
get up baby, take a shower and meet me downstairs. I have a surprise for you.”

“Tristan,” I groan. “How am I supposed to
keep up when you keep being the wonderful one who bears gifts all the time?” He
smirks at me, then leans down and pecks me on the tip of my nose.

“It’s not a gift, now come on out of bed.
The sun is shining and it’s our last day together, I want to make the most of
it,” he tells me firmly.

“I have a good idea how to make the most of
it,” I say seductively, pulling the quilt down to reveal my pert, toned
breasts.

“Oh no you don’t, there’s plenty of time
for that later, come on up!” I groan and fall back down onto the pillows. “Definitely
not a morning person,” I hear him chortle as he walks away.

I stare up at the ceiling and try not to
think too hard about the fact that Tristan will be gone all week, that this is
our last day together. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, I have no idea
how I’m going to handle it – Stop it Coral!

I nod in agreement and push the thought to
the back of my mind.

GETTING UP OUT OF BED WAS FINE
. Walking however was not. Muscles I didn’t even know I had are
aching so badly it’s hard work trying to walk in a straight line. Damn, I
thought I was fitter than this? Tristan looked fine when he walked away, which
is quite frankly, rather annoying! But maybe my body will get used to it, and
the muscles will repair quickly? I hope so I don’t want him thinking I’m a
total flake!

Walking into the bathroom, I feel as though
Tristan is in the room with me, his smell is everywhere, that delicious mind
boggling scent of his, his shower gel and his aftershave, mixing into one and
wafting around everywhere is making it hard to concentrate.
Ok Coral get a
grip!

Walking over to the sink, I pick up my toothbrush, squirt some
toothpaste and start cleaning, but I can
’
t help thinking
back to the dream and what Tristan asked. Do I really want to try out a
different career? Is that something I really want to do, cooking – be a chef?

I always thought of it as a kind of hobby, not a career, but
maybe Tristan
’
s right?
Admittedly, there have been times when I
’
ve been bored
out of my head at work, but that
’
s normally when it
’
s quiet, and
Joyce has gone home early, and I
’
ve got no work to do!

Hmm, definitely something to keep thinking about!

AS I’M SHOWERING
and
getting nervous about driving Tristan’s Eighty Grand worth of sports car, I
have a sudden thought – we haven’t discussed children? If Tristan and I really
are the ones for each other (I think setting up home together, albeit Tristan’s
home is a pretty big step) then surely things like marriage and kids should be
discussed? I mean, I know we’ve kind of brushed over marriage – Just as I’m
thinking that I get an image flash up in my mind’s eye.

I’m in a long ivory wedding dress and I’m
walking towards Tristan, he looks so smart and handsome and he’s smiling his
deep dimpled smile at me –
Stop!
I freeze mid-wash. Hold the phone, did
that just happen?
Whoa!
That was weird!

I’m suddenly catapulted back in time to the
dream that I had, and Tristan calling me Mrs Freeman! I shake my head,
involuntarily getting shampoo in my eyes –
Damn it!

I decide to leave the big thinking until
I’m out the shower!

TWENTY MINUTES LATER,
I am
dressed, hair dried into mellow waves, spritzed with perfume and putting my
make-up on at the bathroom mirror. I spot Tristan’s aftershave and pick it up
to see which one it is – Millionaire by Paco Robane –
Figures!

I put the bottle back down, and concentrate
on the task at hand.
Ok so where was I?

The dream, the dress, marriage!
Am I
denying it to myself?
George said that I should believe it’s possible for
me. I stare back at my reflection. “Is that what you want Coral, to marry
Tristan?” I question aloud. A resounding yes echoes around my head.

Holy Crap!
–
I shake my head at that thought, it really is quite absurd, we have only known
each other a couple of weeks and I’m thinking marriage?
You need to slow
yourself down girl and get a grip!

I suddenly feel deflated about it all, like
I’ve taken the excitement out of the prospect that it could actually happen for
me. I glare back at myself. “You know what, you wanna marry Tristan you go
right ahead.”
There that told me!

I shake my head at myself.
What am I
talking about?
Putting down my eyeliner and reaching for my mascara, I
decide to tackle the next big question – Kids. My heart slowly sinks. How do I
tell him I can’t have them? That I'm unable to conceive? I feel sick just
thinking about it.

Closing my eyes, and pulling my hand up to cover
my mouth I take a deep breath and try to stop the nauseous feeling. Opening my
eyes, I gaze back at myself. If it’s something Tristan really wants, then he
should be with someone who can give him that, surely?

My stomach rolls...I hate the thought of
him being with anyone else, but if I can’t give him what he wants…? I blow a
deep breath out…this could be the end of us – Stop Coral, you’re worrying about
the future again, just go downstairs and ask Tristan the question – Do you want
kids?

I stare back at my bright wide, sparkling
because of Tristan, coral blue eyes, and take a deep breath. “You can do this!”
I nod at myself and make my way out of the bathroom. Picking up my shoulder bag
from the bedroom, I wonder down the first flight of stairs. I decided to dress
in my jeans, t-shirt and my Nike Air-Max trainers (just to see if he says
anything) and because I want flats on to drive the car – I’m so excited and
nervous!

Walking hesitantly into the kitchen the
first thing I notice is the overpowering smell of Croissants and Chocolate – I
feel myself light up inside, I really like those. The second thing is that
Bruno Mars is singing in the background, Locked out of Heaven is playing, my
head starts to bob as I sing along to the words.

Then I see Tristan sitting on one of the
breakfast stools reading a newspaper. He’s dressed in his dark jeans, a light
blue t-shirt which clings to him in all the right places and –
Oh my God!
As I look down I see he’s wearing the same trainers as me, except his are dark
blue, mine are gun metal grey.

“Hey,” I skip over to him and kiss him on
the lips, surprising him.

“Good morning. Mmm…you smell heavenly,” he
says pulling me closer and kissing my neck. My pelvic muscles clench in the
most delicious way, I instantly feel hot and moist down below.

“What perfume are you wearing?” he asks
nibbling my earlobe.

I almost climax there and then. “Absolutely
Irresistible,” I groan, my head falling back, my eyes closing involuntarily, my
heart spiking, my breathing erratic.

“That you are,” Tristan murmurs against my
neck, softly kissing and grazing his teeth down towards my shoulder.

“Um, Tristan…you shouldn’t really be doing
that if you want to get out of here,” I murmur trying to sound as though I’m
capable of a conversation.

“Really?” he questions still kissing my
neck, my jaw. I grip his hair at the nape and pull his head back, then kiss him
with all the pent up sexual energy I have felt since he denied me this morning.

“That,” I growl against his lips. “Is not
fair, you deny me then tease me?”

“I was just kissing you,” he says all
innocently with puppy dog eyes.

“Do you have any idea how that makes me
feel?” I say sitting on the bar stool next to him.

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” he
smirks.

“Oh really?” I challenge.

“Yes.” He replies smugly.

“Then how does it make me feel?” I
question.

Tristan looks bashful for a moment then he
turns his intense gaze on me. “Exactly the way I feel when you kiss me.”

“And how do I make you feel when I kiss
you?” I ask arms crossed.

“Like I want you, instantly,” he says his
face intense, his eyes dark.
Oh wow!

“Ditto,” I breathe, uncrossing my arms. “So
what’ll it be Mr Mogul, sex or car?”

“Both,” he says grinning cheekily at me. I
shake my head at him and laugh. “Mr Mogul?” He questions –
Crap! I can't
believe I just said that out loud.

“Have you?” I ask trying to change the
subject.

“Have I what?” he smiles.

“Had car sex?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“I was a teenager.”

“Oh,” I feel myself deflate a little.

“You?”

“No,” I whisper feeling shy again. He leans
towards me, so he’s almost touching my lips, taking my breath away again, then
he moves and brushes his lips across my ear.

“Maybe,” he whispers in a low husky voice,
my body shudders all over. “We can do that today,” he adds. My heart is
pounding.
Car sex?

I swallow hard. “Yes,” I whisper. He moves
again so he’s right in front of me, and runs a cool soft finger down my cheek.

“Whatever you want baby,” he says, seeing
straight through me again. I stare down at my fingers.
Why do I suddenly
feel hot and flushed?
“Hey?” Tristan slowly lifts my chin up so I have to
look at him, I don’t know why I say it but I do.

“I love you,” I whisper. “So much…” I frown
at myself. “Too much…” I add. Taking hold of his face, I kiss him, hard.

“Coral,” he mumbles, pulling away from me,
and placing my hands on my lap. “You need to eat, and so do I, can we do that
first?” he asks, smiling down at me.

I stare at the floor feeling utterly
rejected. Then I think back to our conversations that have involved sex, and it
hits me, he doesn’t want me like that. I think back to last night, we had sex
on the sofa, halfway through the film just as I thought we would – but we
didn’t when we went to bed, or this morning…?

“You…you don’t want me like that?” I whisper,
frowning at the floor.

“Hey,” he tips my head up. “Yes, I do,
always.”

“Prove it,” I breathe. In the next breath Tristan
is up on his feet, has swung my bar stool round and pulled me into his arms, his
mouth claiming mine, his one hand tugging in my hair, the other hand sliding up
my leg, gripping my thigh, my backside. I kiss him back with all the passion I
feel burning inside me, I grip his hair with my hands then wrap my legs around
him.

His erection is firm and hard between my
legs, making me want him all over again. Then taking me by surprise, he lifts
me into his arms and carries me over to the sofa –
Ok, got that wrong, he
does want me!

Placing me down, so my back is lying on the
sofa he sinks to his knees. He unties my trainers, throws them off, undoes the
belt on my jeans, the button, and the zipper and pulls them off me. Then he
takes hold of my knickers and yanks them to the side.