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CHAPTER15
Tristan
“Okay, guys…” I say. “This is the last street that we planned to go trick-or-treating on. And you have enough candy to last until the Easter Bunny comes in April.” At this point, Remi is carrying Wendy, and as predicted, I’m carrying Bah-Bah Lamb Baby and Wendy’s pillowcase stuffed with candy.
“Coach Remi, will you, like, come back to our place and watch us do our King Kong candy trade-off?” Jared asks. He’s as attached to Remi… as I am.
“What’s a King Kong candy trade-off?” he asks.
“It’s when we stick all of our candy in front of us on the living room rug—there’s enough to fill King Kong’s belly with candy—and we trade so we end up with our favorite kinds.”
“Three little geniuses,” Remi murmurs.
“Little Wenny usually zonks out halfway through the trade-off, so Mommy finishes up for her,” Tommy adds.
“Doesn’t your mother have to work tonight?” Remi asks.
“Uh-huh. You can play for Wendy when she crashes, ’kay, Coach?”
Remi glances at me, and I nod my approval. “Sure. And I know Wendy loves Skittles.”
“M&Ms too, Emmie.” She yawns and snuggles against Remi’s chest.
“Well, let’s finish up, then.”
“You gonna make hot cocoa when we get home, Uncle Tris?” Tommy asks, tugging on the sleeve of my hoodie.
“With those tiny marshmallows?” Jared adds.
“It wouldn’t be Halloween if I didn’t.” The kids enjoy our family traditions. Remi’s intrigued smile proves he’s invested in our family traditions too.
* * *
Remi
The pleain his emerald eyes melts me. “Don’t go home tonight, Remi.”
The King Kong candy trade-off is a done deal. Hot cocoa with tiny marshmallows has been consumed. Teeth have been brushed, under our close supervision. Two exhausted ninjas and a cranky Little Bo Peep are fast asleep in their beds. And Tara is hard at work for my family’s hotel corporation at the desk in her room.
“If I stay, the kids… they’ll put it together that I’m more than just your pal.”
“Kids aren’t stupid. They already know,” he replies.
“What about Tara?” I ask.
Tristan’s cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink I want to capture in pastel. “Um, she knows too. Believe me…”
“That’s not what I mean. Would she mind that we sleep here… you know, together… under the same roof as the kids?”
“She’s not a prude, Remi.” Tristan shakes his head. “And it’s not as if I bring home a different Tom, Dick, and Harry every weekend.”
I’m the one who was doing that… until I met Tristan.
“And tonight, we’ll keep things… uh, chaste.” His blush deepens.
“You mean, no moaning or heavy breathing that could easily travel through thin walls?” I finally relax enough to tease him. I had no interest in going anywhere tonight.
“Something like that,” he agrees.
“Is serious snuggling against the rules?”
“Absolutely not.” Tristan rises from the couch. “So now, let me show you my etchings.”
“Oh, God… I actually used that line on you once upon a time, didn’t I?”
“You did. I thought it was sweet.”
No lover has ever referred to me as sweet.
As my face heats, he says, “Truth be told, I have zero artistic talent. I have no etchings.”
“Well, I have enough etchings for both of us. But I’d sure love to see your bedroom.”
“Then follow me.” He takes my hand and leads me down the hall to a tiny room at the back of the apartment.
