Page 147 of The Temporary Bride

As Tristan flips open the binder, my eyes are drawn to a series of sketches neatly arranged on the pages. I’m expecting something related to Eclipse Studios, but instead I’m met with a striking image that takes me by surprise. It’s the silhouette of a songbird in flight, rendered with clean lines and an elegant curve.

Above it, in bold letters, are the words Warbler Studios.

I blink, trying to make sense of it. “This isn’t for Eclipse Studios. What’s Warbler Studios?”

“Well, since the collaboration with MediaSphere isn’t happening, we decided to go a slightly different direction with it. A different name seemed fitting. There’s no eclipse happening here, not anymore.”

“Oh. It’s beautiful,” I say. “But⁠—”

“I want you to direct the first project for Warbler Studios, dimples.” He pauses, letting his words settle before continuing. “And beyond. As many films as you want to make. Whatever films you want to make.”

I’m speechless, my pulse racing at the sheer scope of what he’s offering. The idea of directing my own projects, having a studio named with such a meaningful and personal touch—it feels almost surreal.

“You… you want me to be in charge? To direct the first project?”

He nods seriously. “Absolutely. I want this to be your creative haven. I believe in your talent and your dreams, and I really, really want to see what you make.”

My eyes well up, my chest overflowing with emotions. “This is unbelievable. I don’t know what to say.”

Tristan reaches out, brushing a stray tear from my cheek as he grins with fond amusement. “Say you’ll do it.”

“I… of course. Of course. Thank you!”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Pride gleams in his eyes. “Just take this opportunity and make it your own. I know you’ll do amazing things.”

As I look at the sketches for Warbler Studios, I feel a sense of possibility and hope so powerful that I can barely catch my breath. My thoughts race ahead, scrambling for the idea that will become my first film. Then something occurs to me, and I frown.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but… what if I hadn’t taken you back? What would you have done with all of this?”

“Oh.” He lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I still would’ve given the studio to you.”

“Are you serious?”

“More than serious.” He doesn’t look away. “All I want is for you to be happy, Chloe. Nothing else matters to me.”

Without a word, I lean in and press my lips against his.

The kiss starts soft, an exploration of everything moving between us. Then his arms come around me, pulling me closer, and I feel the heat of his body against mine. His lips move with a hunger that matches mine, and I let my hands trail down his body. The heat of the moment builds as I’m swept up in his scent and the feel of his touch.

In the dim light, with the soft murmur of the ocean as our backdrop, it feels like we’re the only two people in the world. Everything else falls away. Our bodies move together in perfect rhythm, our breaths matching, our skin hot against each other.

Just us.

Chapter 55

Tristan

A few weeks later, I wake up before Chloe does. I lie there for a few minutes, listening to the soft sound of her breathing beside me and letting my mind wander a bit. Then I give up on trying to go back to sleep and slide down the bed instead.

She’s on her back, one arm thrown over her face, somehow elegant even while sprawled out in sleep. The sheet is draped over her waist, and I lift it slowly as I duck beneath the soft fabric. Settling between her legs, I press little kisses to her skin, working my way up.

She doesn’t stir until I have my mouth on her properly, and then she lets out a soft sound, something between a sigh and a moan. I tease her clit through the fabric of her panties, warming it with my breath and circling it lightly with my fingertips, and her hips start to shift toward me as her breathing changes.

“Mm… Tristan,” she mumbles.

Grinning, I work her panties over her hips and down her legs. She’s awake enough by now that she moves her legs to help me get rid of them, and when I wrap my lips around her clit and start working it in earnest, she makes a husky noise that goes straight to my cock.

“Fuck,” she moans, her voice still thick with sleep. “God, you’re the best alarm clock ever.”