Lovely Trigger (43 page)

Ha.
 
That really wouldn’t be a problem.
 
“Oh, I can do that.”
 

He started moving to me, and I had to stifle the urge to start backing away.
 
I didn’t want him to touch me until I knew what he’d been up to between the funeral service and here.
 

“So you rode over here with the entire family?” I asked him, watching his face very carefully.

He grimaced, and I tensed up.
 
“No.
 
Mona set it up so it was just she and I in a limo.”

Well, at least he hadn’t tried to cover that up.
   

“Did you fuck her?”
 

He didn’t take that well, which was understandable, because I hadn’t meant it well.
 

I didn’t really think it was a possibility, but I couldn’t seem to keep it in.
 
I had to vent somehow, or I’d go nuclear.
 
Even so, I regretted saying it instantly.
 
This was not the time or the place.
     

His nostrils flared, his eyes gone wild.
 
“Is that a serious question?”
 

I chewed on my lip, reluctantly admitting, “No.”

“Good.
 
And no, I stayed far away from her.”

He finally had me backed into a corner when he cupped my face in his hands.
 

“This is why you don’t sleep with the daughter of a close friend,” I told him.
 
I was angry about that, how his naiveté could potentially harm what we had, what we were still trying to build into
something
.
 
“Especially one that you work with.
 
What were you thinking?”
 

“I was a fool, clearly, but she didn’t present herself as she is now.
 
She was, I don’t know, the opposite of you.
 
She’s not a relationship girl, or so I thought.
 
She always tried so hard to prove that she was just the cool chick and just as disinterested in having anything serious as I was.
 
She was all too happy to volunteer for fuck buddy status.
 
It made sense at the time.
 
None of it is an excuse.
 
I was an idiot.”
 

Yep, I was done with that line of conversation.
 
I tried to pull my face out of his hands, but he wasn’t having it.
 

He bent down to me.
 
“Stay by my side.
 
Stake your claim.”

“That’s just what Bianca told me to do.”
 

“Well, aside from her taste in too pretty men, she’s a smart girl.”
 

That got a small smile out of me, as though he took that as permission, he brushed his lips against mine.
 

I gripped his wrists, whether to keep them where they were, or push them away, I wasn’t sure.
 

He took my mouth softly, in slow, drugging pulls, running his velvety tongue very slowly along my lips, begging for entrance.
 

With a small moan, I opened for him.
 

“Do it, Danika.
 
Claim your man,” he pulled back to murmur against my mouth.
 

I wasn’t proud of it, but I let him have me, quick and fierce against the wall.
 

We were straightening our clothes when Mona opened the door.
 
She didn’t say a word.
 
She didn’t need to.
 
She just wanted us to know that she knew what we’d been up to.
 

I felt bad.
 
I’d just participated in making her bad day worse.

A few days later, I couldn’t believe I’d ever had a kind thought about the woman.

Always trust your gut, even when it makes you feel like a total bitch.

That’s what I learned from Mona.
 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

I was at work, minding my own business a few days later when a smiling Mona came waltzing into my gallery.

Every time I saw that smile, I became more certain that there was just something wrong with it.
 

“Is it about time for your shift to end?” she asked, her tone pleasant enough but lacking any inflection.
 
Her eyes were sort of glazed over and vacant.
 

Curiouser and curiouser.
 

Even so, I didn’t really want to know where this was headed.
     

I sighed.
 
I still felt bad about what she’d been through with her dad, so I’d be humoring her.
 
“I run the place.
 
I can leave any time I want.
 
I take it you wanted to talk again?”

She nodded.
 
She was just off.
 
I wondered if she’d taken something, but I didn’t know her enough to be able to tell for sure.
 

“I’ll meet you at that bar, Twist, when I’m done.”
 

She left.
 

I finished up with a few things, and then tasked Sandra with closing up in thirty minutes.
 
I headed to Stephan and Javier’s bar with the hope that I could get rid of Mona quickly and then just hang out with the guys.
 

Stephan saw me coming and came to greet me with a big hug, kissing both of my cheeks.
 
“Finally, you come to see us.”

Javier followed closely behind him, and we had a quick love sesh.
 

“Come sit at the bar, chat with us.
 
Tell us what’s going on with you.”
 
Javier wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
 
“Because we’ve been hearing some things.”
 

“Hell, we’ve been seeing some things,” Stephan added, referring, I knew, to the baby shower.
 

I scanned the plush lounge area for Mona and sighted her easily enough.
 
“I’ve got to talk to someone real quick, and then I’ll be right there.”
 

I excused myself, knowing they’d have a million questions for me to answer about this in about five minutes.
 

I sat down next to Mona on a plush white leather couch.
 
Next to, as in three feet away.
 

“We need to talk,” she began.
 

I had to make a concerted effort not to roll my eyes.
 
“Shoot.”
 

“I just want you to answer one question for me.”
 

I studied her, finding nothing in her face or her demeanor that I understood.
 
I never had.
 
“Just ask it.
 
Enough with the drama.”
 

“Are you in love with him?
 
Just tell me that.”

I shook my head.
 
“I’m not doing this.
 
Nope, not doing it.
 
I don’t know where on this earth you got the idea that I owe you answers about Tristan and I, but that is
not
the case.”
 

“I am.
 
In love with him.
 
No hesitation here.
 
Your turn.”
 

I wanted to slap her.
 
I felt my upper lip trying to shape into a snarl, and I had to take a few careful moments to smooth it out.
 
“There was a six year window.
 
I’m not sure when you came into the picture for him, but that was the window.
 
That’s how much time you had to make your I love you matter for him, for it to be enough.
 
That window is closed, and I am sorry for you, but if he didn’t love you before, I can promise you that he will
never
love you now.
 
Is that a good enough
answer
for you?”
 

There it was.
 
The thing I’d been looking for, and if I was honest, hoping for, since I’d first met her.
 

Perhaps I’d driven her to it; perhaps she’d been hiding it all along.
 
Needless to say, I preferred the latter.
 

But did it matter?
 
No.
 

The point was, the ugly from inside of her spilled out, contorting her face, her kind smile shaping into a hateful sneer, eyes gone bright with edgy fury.
 

She pointed a shaking finger at me.
 
“You think you own him?
 
You think you’ve had some invisible hand on him, through it all, but he was doing just fine until you came back into his life.
 
Just fine
, until you sabotaged his life again, with that pathetic limp, and those fucking manipulative guilt trips of yours.”

“I’m going to stop you right there.
 
You’re going to keep going on with this rant and it is not going to matter.
 
Whatever you had with him, it doesn’t have the power to affect what he and I have.
 
So go on.
 
Go.
 
Get on with your life, because you don’t have the power to influence mine.”
     

She gave me the most bitter smile.
 
No, not bitter.
 

Triumphant.
 

That worried me, and I felt my heart rate accelerating with more than my temper.
 
Dread swirled deep in my belly.
 
I watched her mouth, fearing what she would say before she even fucking said it.
 

And then she proved me so very wrong, because she could affect Tristan and me.
 
In fact, she could destroy us with two short sentences.
 
Just five little words.

“I’m pregnant.
 
It’s his baby.”
 

My mind reeled.
 
I don’t know how long I just stood there in stunned, unadulterated horror, but she was still sitting there when I came out of it.
 

“So now you’ll try to trap him with a baby.”
 
Disgust dripped from my voice.
 
For her, for him, for all of us.
 

“Who are you to judge me?
 
I’m better for him.
 
I don’t have to wonder if I’m in love with him, I know.
 
I never would have left him, pining and alone, to suffer for years, to look for comfort in other women, for years.
 
You did all of that.
 
Who are
you
to judge me?”

“How far along are you?” I asked her.
 
I couldn’t believe how calm my tone sounded.
 

Inside, I was a mess.
 

A bloodbath.
 

“Does it matter?
 
I know he’s the father.
 
I haven’t told him yet, but you know Tristan.
 
He could never turn his back on something like this.”
 

I stood up.
 
I wasn’t sure how.
 
I made my way slowly, unsteadily, to the bar.
 
I didn’t look back at Mona again.
 
I would have done a great deal to never have to set eyes on her again for the rest of my life.
 

Stephan met me halfway, and just swooped in and picked me up.
 
I studied the chiseled line of his jaw.
 

“You look like a blond superman,” I told him.
 

He smiled.
 
“You don’t look well, Danika.
 
I’m driving you home, unless you have an objection.”
 

I shut my eyes.
 
“Will you take me to your place?
 
I need to keep away from my life for a bit.”

“Of course.
 
We have lots of room.
 
You can stay for as long as you need to.
 
I’ll take you, and Javier will bring your car, later, so you aren’t stranded.”
 

“Thank you.
 
Absolutely everyone on the planet should have their own Stephan.”

“I think you might be a little bit in shock, Danika.”
 

I only wished.
 
Shock smacked of numbness, and I wasn’t that.
 

To say I didn’t handle the news well was a gross understatement.
 

I lost it.
 
Just
lost my mind
.

The first stage was avoidance.
 
It was pure cowardice.

And utterly necessary.

I avoided him with skill.
 
With talent.
 
I not only anticipated where he would be, I anticipated where he’d think
I
would be, and steered clear of it all.
 

At one point, he camped out in his car on the curb in front of my house.
 

That night, I got a hotel room.
 

The next stage was worse.
 
It was anger.
 

Rage, fury, outrage, utter devastation.
 
I stopped avoiding him because I
wanted
him to feel my wrath, needed it.

I went to his house and strode up to his door.
 
He opened it before I could knock.
 
I had no clue how he’d known I was coming.
 
What, had he just been watching for me out the window?
 

No matter.

I walked in, not even looking directly at him.
 

I took a deep breath and turned to face him, raising my trembling chin to meet him in the eye.

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice so, so soft, his golden eyes softer.