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I swallowed back my hesitation, meeting his gaze squarely. “Because I want to be able to protect myself,” I admitted, somewhat reluctantly. “I don’t want to be the damsel in distress anymore. I know…I know you’re here to protect me. To protect our child. But Tristan, what if you’re not?”
His eyes widened at that.
He stared at me for a moment, the intensity of his gaze making my heart pound in my chest. “You’re not a damsel in distress,” he said, his voice low and serious. “You never have been.”
“But I don’t want to be helpless either,” I pushed back, my own voice matching his with its firmness. “I need to know how to defend myself. If not for me, then for our child.”
Tristan said nothing for a time, his blue eyes studying me in the ambient light of the street lamps. Finally, he nodded. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But Adriana, remember what you promised me.”
I nodded. “Yes,” I said. “If anything goes wrong, I run.”
Chapter Twenty: Tristan
We drove south until we reached a little town with a small bed and breakfast. I parked the car as Adriana fell into a deep slumber beside me. Sighing, I looked out of the window at the quaint two-story home, its wooden walls warmly aglow under the soft radiance of moonlight.
Despite the tranquility that enveloped it, my mind was far from serene. The events of tonight played on a loop in my head–Adriana’s determined gaze, her unyielding spirit, her demand to be more than what she perceived herself to be…helpless. How could I make her understand that she was never helpless in my eyes? She was strong, resilient…a force to be reckoned with.
She scared the hell out of me, if I was being honest with myself.
She had a kind of power over me no one else had ever had.
Gently, I nudged her awake. “We’re here,” I whispered, glancing at the peaceful establishment. Adriana groaned softly, rubbing her eyes as she sat up and took in our new surroundings.
“Looks nice,” she murmured sleepily, blinking at the quaint bed and breakfast.
I walked around the car to help her out. As we stepped inside, a warm glow from the softly lit lamps welcomed us, casting long, yellow shadows over the wooden floors and antique furniture. A woman with white curly hair and a kind smile greeted us from behind the counter.
“Welcome to Rosemary Inn,” she said warmly, extending a hand as though she knew us. “Do you two have a reservation?”
I shook my head. “No, just hoping there’s a vacancy.”
‘There sure is,“ she said with a kind smile. “I’ve got the Honeymoon Suite available upstairs–will that work?”
Adriana blushed, hiding her left hand–ashamed, I’m sure, that she didn’t have a ring–and I felt even more ashamed that I’d not given her one.
“That would be great,” I said.
“Fantastic,” she said. “I’ll take your deposit now, and if you need anything, just ask for Martha–that’s me.”
I handed over a burner credit card and Martha took it without a second thought, making me feel like an asshole yet again for scamming this nice lady into a room. She didn’t say anything, though, and Adriana looked exhausted, so I let myself believe that I was doing the right thing as I guided Ade up the stairs and toward our room.
“The Honeymoon Suite?” Ade muttered, looking at me out of the corner of her eye.
I huffed out a laugh. “I mean…we never got one, did we?”
She didn’t seem to think that was very funny.
Fuck…she was still pissed at me. Of course she was. She would hardly look in my eyes.
The room was simple but cozy, with a king-sized bed covered with crisp white linens and an old floral rug in the middle of the floor that had clearly seen better days. A bouquet of wilted flowers was on the bedside table–vestiges from someone’s real honeymoon, I presumed. Adriana parted ways with me as soon as we got to the room, still scowling.
I couldn’t help it.
I was starting to get mad too.
“Look, Ade,” I muttered. “You can be mad at me all you want, but that guy deserved it.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said. “I’m tired. You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor or something.”
