Page 64 of Tristan’s Temptation

Tristan blanched. “What?”

“Elaine! That was supposed to be a secret.”

Mom patted Kat’s hand. “I know, dear. But it is just so exciting. One of our girls.” She frowned at her son. “Kat’s afraid you won’t approve. Now what did you do to make her think that?”

Tristan glanced at Kat. Her lips were tight. She refused to meet his eyes. Really? Did she really think so poorly of him? That he was a…curmudgeon? He wasn’t. He really wasn’t. If Jenny or Sara—probably Jenny—was in a family way, it was her decision. Her life. As her boss, he would make damn sure she had everything she needed.

“I don’t care. We’ll take care of her.” He smiled at Kat in a manner he hoped was reassuring. She just paled a little more. “We’re all family at Trillo–Maris, right, Kat?”

“See.” Mom nudged Kat’s arm. “I told you so.”

Kat bit her lip.

Adam entered the kitchen—probably hunting down his beer. He hovered there behind Tristan, a looming shadow. “So it’s out? He knows?”

Mom nodded, beaming. “See. I don’t know what you two were all worried about. He took the news just fine.” She sighed. “What a darling little baby she will have.”

Tristan had a sudden vision of Jenny’s child, a little boy with green hair and an armament of piercings in his nose. He chuckled, glancing at his brother.

Adam was focused on Kat with a funny look on his face, so Tristan’s gaze, naturally, swung in her direction. She glared meaningfully at Adam and shook her head. Their expressions, the glances passing between them, made him still. Made him ask, through nerveless lips, “Who is it we’re talking about, exactly?”

Before Kat could shush her, Mom blurted it out. “Why Shannon Weiss, of course.”

And a glass of milk shattered on the kitchen floor.

Chapter Fourteen

How he drove home, Tristan would never know. But somehow he did. He was on the hill heading up to his house when he made a sudden turn to the right. Into Shannon’s development. He knew he shouldn’t bother. She hadn’t been home all week, after all. But something inside him, some compulsion, wouldn’t allow him to just drive on by.

His heart caught in his throat when he saw her car in the driveway.

She was home.

He was parked and storming to her door before thought fully formed. Oh. And he was pounding. On the door.

Bosco barked and howled like a banshee so he knew she couldn’t ignore him for long and, indeed, she did not.

The door opened and there she was. Ah. There she was. For a moment he was stunned speechless by her beauty.

And then she opened her mouth. “Go away, Tristan.”

“No.” He put his foot in the door to stop her from shutting it in his face, which was a mistake because, damn, it hurt. But at least she couldn’t shut him out. Though she tried. When she slammed it on his foot again, he grabbed the door with his hand. “Shannon. We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing left to say.”

“Yes. There is.”

“Like what?”

“Like, I’m an idiot?”

That got her. She almost smiled. “You are an idiot.”

“Shannon. Please. Please let me in.”

He could see she was waffling, wavering, so he pressed forward, gently shouldering his way through the door. Bosco greeted him with a flurry of sniffs and snorts and then, bored, trotted away.

“Well, all right.” She strode into the living room, her arms wrapped around her waist. He stared at her, at her belly, trying to see if he could notice any difference. There was none. She was as slender as ever.