Turning to face him, I folded my legs underneath me and hung my head. “I doubt it. He seemed perfectly fine with me kissing you, so I doubt you sitting here with me would bother him even a little.”
Gage shook his head. “I think you’re wrong there. Men don’t appreciate other men sitting on the same bed with their girlfriends. Sorry, fiancée. I know I wouldn’t.”
“I would think those men might not order their girlfriends or fiancées to kiss other men then.”
Smiling, he shook his head again. “He thinks you’re in danger and is trying to keep you safe, Nina.”
“Then he should be here taking care of that himself instead of making you and me play house.”
“Powerful men have enemies. Dangerous enemies. I don’t know Tristan at all, to be honest, but from what I’ve seen, he cares about you.”
I knew Gage was right, but that didn’t mean I was feeling any better about Tristan and Daryl’s plan. “Sometimes I wonder.”
Without any warning, I broke down in tears again. God, I was a mess! Burying my face in my hands, I sobbed at the reality that I wasn’t sure if Tristan even cared anymore. Months of wondering where he was and if he was okay had turned into wondering if he still loved me at all.
The bed shifted, and I felt Gage move closer to hug me again. I guess I shouldn’t have let him, but being held felt so good. After so long, I didn’t feel alone. “It’s okay, Nina. Let it out.”
Lifting my head to say thank you for him being so understanding, I looked up and time seemed to change into slow motion. Those dark blue eyes gazed down at me so full of concern that for a moment I felt like I should comfort him and let him know I’d be okay. Instead, I just stared up into his face and then it happened.
I didn’t know if he kissed me or I kissed him, but we kissed. I hadn’t been kissed in months, and for a split second I let myself enjoy the sensation of his soft lips on mine. It was the nicest, most innocent kiss I’d ever had, and instantly, I felt guiltier than ever before in my life.
When time resumed its normal motion, I abruptly pulled away and shook my head over and over. From behind my hand covering my guilty mouth, I mumbled, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that. That should have never happened.”
The expression on his face was a mixture of the guilt he shared with me and surprise, which made me believe I’d kissed him. Maybe I had. I didn’t know. It all just happened so unexpectedly.
“I better go. I’m just glad you feel better.”
He left without another word, and as I sat there with my hand still covering my mouth, all I knew was that I’d never felt so awful in my life.
Chapter Eight
Tristan
While I waited for Daryl to return, I took a look around the apartment he’d rented for me on the edge of the town closest to the house. He’d done a good job getting me as close as possible to Nina. On foot, I was probably only a few minutes away across a field that butted up against the property. All of three rooms and a bathroom, the apartment wasn’t even big enough to measure up to the rooms Nina stayed in when she’d first come to live with me, but I didn’t plan to stay here long.
I sat on the full sized bed that took up most of the space in the tiny, white bedroom and stared into the mirror across from me. I barely recognized myself. Months of exile had whittled away at my body so I was much leaner. Hair longer than I’d worn in years fell into my eyes, and my beard was practically as long and bushy as Daryl’s. Only my eyes still told others I was Tristan Stone, assuming anyone could see them through the hair.
It felt good to be back home, or at least close to home. Soon I’d find out what Karl was up to and finally get to return to Nina and our life together. Until then, I had to hope she’d understand what I had to do to safeguard that life.
A knock on the door told me Daryl was back, and I answered it to find him looking shell-shocked. He pushed past me and walked into the apartment’s narrow galley kitchen to rummage through the cabinets.
“I know I stored a bottle up here somewhere. You couldn’t have drank it all already, did you?”
I leaned against the doorframe and pointed toward the cabinet on the far end of the wall. “I didn’t have any yet, but I’m not sure how I feel about you drinking my Lagavulin. Get your own bottle.”
Daryl poured himself a glass neat, never asking me if I wanted one, and sagged against the Formica countertop as he gulped down my expensive scotch. “You owe me, buddy. After what I just went through, I deserve the entire bottle.”
Fear that something had happened to Nina raced through my body, settling into my heart. “What happened? Is Nina hurt?”