chapter fourteen
The mansion looked like it had puked up the color pink.
Tristan placed the platter of chips on the table, snatching a crunchy Cheez Doodle, and tried not to be intimidated. The estrogen pumping through the air was enough to keep him in check. Between the elaborate Happy Birthday signs and the pink glitter, streamers, and gaily wrapped favors, he didn’t know where to look. Little girls in elaborate gowns and high-heeled “glass” slippers seemed to be everywhere. They carried purses and wands and all wore tiaras.
So did the grown women.
He figured he’d keep to the background, but Syd and Morgan kept him busy hustling food, fixing broken costume jewelry clasps, and refilling the bright pink punch bowl. Fake gems cluttered every table surface, and they’d already had a scavenger hunt for some type of magic mirror. Poisoned red apples bobbed in a jewel-encrusted bucket. The strains of “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo” exploded from the speakers.
He was kind of in Disney hell.
“I’m scared.”
Tristan turned toward Dalton. “Be cool,” he said. “Stick to the walls, where they won’t notice you.”
His brother gave a shudder. “I tried, but they found me and made me be the prince. Raven tried to make me wear tights, but I told her no way. She’s still a little pissed.”
Tristan laughed. “Where is Raven anyway?”
“She wanted to finish up at My Place before picking up her costume. She still won’t tell me what she’s going to be, but . . .”
“What?” Dalton was looking at the front door, suddenly mute. Tristan glanced over to see what he was missing and stopped cold.
Oh, yeah. This party was getting outrageous, and there wasn’t even any alcohol.
Raven was dressed up as Maleficent. Clad in a long black gown, with an elaborate headpiece that gave her black horns, she held a scepter and surveyed the crowd like she’d flown in on her wings and decided to crash a princess party. Her dark hair was pulled back tight from her face, emphasizing scarlet lips, pale skin, and heavily accented eyes that burned like dark coals.
He wouldn’t have recognized her if it hadn’t been for her wicked wink as four girls gasped and stared at her in pure wonder.
Her throaty voice hit the room with command. “Whose birthday is it today?”
Becca moved forward. Her turquoise gown swished around her ankles, and her hair glittered in the light, due to some heavy-handed sparkles. Tristan bet they’d never wash out. His suit had been unsalvageable from the pink sparkle incident, and it had been one of his favorites. “It’s mine,” Becca squeaked.
Staying in character, Raven lifted the scepter, her face carved in the arrogant lines of a true queen. “I’ve come to bestow a special gift on the princess. Please kneel.”
Mouth open, Becca knelt on the floor and bowed her head. The audience tittered and giggled in excitement. Sydney was grinning and videotaping the whole thing.
Raven lowered her scepter and touched the top of Becca’s head lightly. “I offer you the gift of wisdom, to decipher between good and evil. I also offer the power of bravery, to face the darkness and rise above, to be the guiding light to others and yourself. Do you accept these gifts, princess?”
“Damn, she’s good,” Cal whispered.
Dalton looked dazed, as if he’d been hit over the head with a blunt object. Tristan pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.
“I accept them,” Becca said reverently.
Raven urged her to rise and kissed both of her cheeks. “Happy birthday, Rebecca Seymour.”
The girl’s smile was pure sunshine. Tristan’s heart did a weird little flip-flop. “Thank you, Raven—er, Maleficent!”
The girls flocked around, touching her gown, chattering nonstop, while his brothers took in the scene. Cal cleared his throat. “I don’t know about you, but I had no idea grown women who dress up as princesses were hot as hell.”
Dalton shook his head as if trying to clear it. “My woman is a complete sexpot,” he declared. “And if we disappear later, don’t look for us. If you do, I’ll beat your asses.”
“Same here,” Cal shot back. Morgan was dressed in a blinding-white dress, supposedly someone from the movie Frozen. With her blond hair, pink lips, and a silver tiara, she looked like some type of icy queen. “Do you know how bad I want to get her dirty?”
Tristan groaned. “We’re at a kid’s birthday party, dudes. Get your minds out of the damn gutter.”
“Sorry,” Cal said. “Course I saw the way you looked at Sydney. Seems like you want to be her beast, man. Bad.”
“You’re sick.”
Cal and Dalton hooted with laughter. Tristan shook his head but had to take the jabs. Because they were right.
He sucked at his princess knowledge; all he knew was her gorgeous yellow dress was cut low in the front, nipped in at the waist, and spilled to the ground in satin glory. The thin material hugged and emphasized every curve. Her gorgeous hair seemed lit with flame, and she’d put some gold sparkles over her skin, which made him desperate to find every single one.
With his tongue.
God, she turned him on. And since their talk last night, his arousal was mixed with a craving to go deeper, exploring every facet of her that had been hidden these past years. It was sex and need and hunger and tenderness all rolled into one. It was glorious and sucky and scary as hell.
But he was gonna own his shit this time around.
This time, he wasn’t going anywhere.
Sydney drifted over, turning off the videotape. “And that is why I still have a girl crush on Raven,” she said with a grin. “I could never pull that off. She’s such a badass.”
“You’re not supposed to. That’s what cool aunts are for.” He ran a finger down her soft cheek, catching a few sparkles with his thumb. “You’re the one who pulled this entire party together. The one in the background who makes sure your daughter gets everything she needs without any thank-yous. You, Sydney Greene-Seymour, have a whole lot of badass in you.”
She blinked, obviously startled. Cal and Dalton tittered like teenagers, clearly enjoying the show, but Tristan didn’t care. He was making a big move, and being subtle wasn’t the way to do it. He intended to claim her on all levels, and it began with his own family. No more hiding or sneaking around. He wanted their relationship in the full light of day.
“Thank you.” He ached to kiss the blush from her face. “That was one of the nicest things anyone ever said to me.”
Their gazes locked. Her jade eyes filled with emotion, but something dark still flickered there, as if an innate fear that hadn’t been spoken was still lodged between them. He figured that with patience he’d be able to get her to trust him again.
Morgan joined Cal, slipping her arms around his waist and leaning in. “Tristan, I just swooned. That was so . . . romantic.”
Cal scowled, possessively curling his arm around her waist. “He’s just trying to get her into bed.”
Morgan gasped. “Cal! There are children here!”
Dalton burst out laughing. “This is awesome. Usually I’m the one getting the crap.”
Cal growled. “They’re all huddled around the witch and can’t hear me. I give you romance.” He paused. “Right?”
She softened, reaching up to push back his mussed hair. “Every day,” she said.
The caveman seemed satisfied and shot Tristan a look as if saying beat that. His brother was certifiably nuts about his fiancée. If it weren’t so damn cute, Tristan would torture him endlessly.
The bell interrupted them, announcing the arrival of pizza. The next hours passed in a blur of princess games, endless eating, and a dance party that rivaled nothing he’d ever seen.
Though watching Sydney shimmy and shake to the beat of “Let It Go” was pretty hot.
When the three-tiered pink-frosted cake came out, and they all sang “Happy Birthday,” he had to admit he got a little emotional. He had no idea why, unless it was the joy on Becca’s face, and the way she looked at her mother, surrounded by friends and family.
It was probably all the estrogen in the room beginning to affect him.
Becca opened her presents the way she seemed to attack life: no-holds-barred. Pieces of wrapping paper scattered the floor as each new prize was revealed, and she gushed over each one, making each giver feel special. When she came to his, he shifted in his seat, wondering if he should take a break to get some air.
“This one’s from Tristan,” Becca read from the envelope. She looked up and smiled, and he sat back down, deciding to wait it out. It wasn’t big or gaily wrapped, just a simple card with a pink bow stuck on it. She probably wouldn’t even like it, but he knew she’d be polite anyway. He should’ve stuck with a doll or stuffed animal. Those always went over big with kids.
She pulled out the card and studied it. Slowly her expression changed from confusion to amazement to delight. With a whoop, she jumped up, waving her hands in the air like she’d won the lottery.
“It’s horseback-riding lessons!” she screamed. “I’m going to ride a real horse!”
Her friends shared respectful glances, and he puffed up a bit. Guess he’d scored after all.
“Thank you, Tristan!” She flew across the room and jumped into his arms for a big hug. He caught her just in time, hugging back, the scent of coconut drifting from her glittery hair. A surge of fierce protectiveness took him in its grip. He didn’t know where it came from or what it meant.
When she bounced back to her friends, his gaze met and held Sydney’s. He hoped it was okay with her, since he hadn’t vetted the present. Uh-oh, maybe he’d screwed up. Maybe riding a horse at her age was a bad idea?
“Excuse me,” Sydney whispered, getting to her feet and leaving the room. Tristan quickly followed her out to the front porch.
She gripped the handrails, staring out at the woods. He moved up behind her and rested his hands gently on her shoulders.
“Are you okay, sweetheart? It’s not like I got her an actual horse.”
His halfhearted attempt to make her laugh failed. Frowning, he noticed her whole body trembled, so he pulled her back and wrapped his arms around her for warmth.
“Can you talk to me?” She stiffened. “Are you overwhelmed? Scared about us? Worried about Becca?”
“There’s something we need to talk about, Tristan,” she said. Her voice came out as if dipped in ice. “It’s important.”
His heartbeat sped up. He tried desperately to sound confident, but his only thought was she was going to say it couldn’t work between them. “I didn’t know I had to ask permission before getting a big gift. Wanna yell at me now?”
“After the party. Okay? I brought Becca’s pajamas so we could stay tonight.”
“Okay.” Unease pitched his belly, but he swore no matter what excuses she came up with, he’d make her see the truth. They were meant to be together. He’d fight dirty and push hard if he had to, but nothing she had to say would stop him from convincing her he wasn’t going anywhere. “Syd?”
“Yeah?”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re not going to be able to scare me away,” he murmured. “Tell me whatever you need, and we’ll work on it together.”
She didn’t respond. But she let him hold her for a bit longer before stepping out of his embrace and making her way back inside.
He noticed she didn’t meet his gaze.
Tristan pushed away the worry and tried to concentrate on the rest of the party. The second round of desserts came out, including pink cake pops and princess cookies. The girls dove in, and he managed to snatch one for himself without his brothers seeing. He had a weakness for sugar cookies, pink or not.
“Okay, girls, how about some actual fruit?” Morgan asked with a smile. She passed around a tray of strawberries, and Sydney’s friends scooped a few up like they were candy.
Becca raised her hands in the air. “Not me,” she said.
“Not me,” he said at the same exact time.
They shared a glance. “Jinx!” she yelled out.
“Darn, you were too fast for me.” He grinned at her. “Don’t like them?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m allergic.”
“Me too. I blow up like a balloon.”
“Me too! I look like the clown fish from Finding Nemo!” Her face was delighted, as if sharing a terrible allergy bonded them. He remembered being rushed to the hospital with his mom freaking out the first time he’d gotten a hold of a strawberry.
“Do you have an EpiPen?” he asked, finishing his sugar cookie.
“Yep, do you?”
“Nah, when I got bigger, I just knew how to avoid them. Want some coffee? You’re seven now.”
“I’m still too young!” Her friends burst into silly laughter with her. He’d had no idea how easy it was to get on with a young girl. Maybe he wasn’t as terrible with children as he thought.
With a wink, he headed for the coffeepot. He’d been less exhausted after a twelve-hour workday than this kids’ party. How did Sydney manage?
When the first of the parents began picking up the girls, he breathed a sigh of relief. Becca’s friends left, and the grown-ups all began to clean up while she kept up a stream of nonstop chatter, showing them all of her gifts and twirling in her bright blue gown. They were halfway through the dishes when he noticed the quiet. He looked around, trying to find out why the talking had stopped.
And found Becca sprawled out on the living room couch, asleep.
Sydney smiled at her daughter, tucking a knitted afghan over her gown and slipping off her plastic high-heeled princess shoes. She tiptoed out, and they stepped back into the kitchen.
“She plays hard and sleeps harder,” Sydney said with a laugh. “It’ll be impossible to wake her up.”
“You were smart to stay here tonight,” Morgan said. “You’ll have the place to yourselves. Cal and I are sleeping at the new house tonight.”
“You close Tuesday, right?” Tristan asked.
“Yep, it’s finally official. We should get back soon, though. We left the dynamic goofball duo there alone. It’ll take them a while to get used to the new place, and I’m afraid they’ve been left alone too long.”
“Should’ve brought them over,” Tristan said with a laugh.
Morgan shook her head. “One of Becca’s friends is afraid of dogs, and I didn’t want her first introduction to be with Cujos, even though they’re the sweetest dogs alive.”
“Dalton and I are heading back, too,” Raven said, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She’d ditched the horns and the headdress but still wore those wicked black boots. “Sydney, I’m madly in love with your daughter. Thank you for letting me be a part of this.”
Sydney hugged her hard, and Morgan stepped into the circle until it was like three powerful princess/witches who were about to rule the world. He cut a glance over to his brothers, registering the tenderness on their faces while they looked upon the women they loved. For so many years, after their mother died, there was an emptiness and pain that filled up all the empty spaces. They’d lost one another for a long time. Somehow, beginning when Morgan came into their life, there was joy again in this house, and among them. He’d not only rediscovered his brothers but a whole new life of possibilities.
Finally they all left and Tristan shut the door behind them, then turned to Sydney. “How about I carry her up for you? Get her settled and then we can have that talk?”
Her skin turned vampire pale. “Thanks.”
He lifted Becca into his arms. Her warm body cuddled automatically against him, and she mumbled in her sleep, frowning fiercely. He climbed the spiral staircase to the first room on the right—decorated in feminine lemon yellow with a floral bedspread. He smiled when she muttered and smooshed her face into the pillow, just like her mother did. He walked back downstairs, poured them both a glass of wine, and went into the living room.
Sydney came down ten minutes later and took the glass he offered with trembling fingers.
“Not gonna lie here,” he finally said in the stretching silence. “I’m trying not to freak out, but when a woman says we need to talk, there’s usually some type of trouble besides my gift. Is it us?”
She flinched. Then nodded. “Yes.”
He let out a breath. “I know you’re scared. I know we share a controversial past. But, Syd, I think you’ll regret it if we don’t try. We have something special here. A connection. It gets stronger all the time, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let what happened between us when we were young and made mistakes affect us now. We’re two different people. Do you really want to throw this away?”
She lifted her gaze. Raw emotion shimmered in her emerald eyes, along with a fear that made dread trickle down his spine. “I want you, Tristan. I thought I could control my feelings and keep you in a safe place. I even decided I’d use you for sex, to wring you out of my system. But you’ve always been more, and I can’t lie to myself anymore. I’m tired of the lies. I’m falling in love with you all over again.”
He put down the glass and reached out to her, but she stiffened, shaking her head and moving away. She set her own glass down, curling into herself for protection. The obvious distress cracked his heart. “What is it, baby?” he asked softly. “Just tell me. We can work through anything. I’m not running away anymore, no matter what’s scaring you right now.”
“I have to tell you something important. All I can do is hope you understand why and give me a chance to explain.”
The dread grew to a roaring river when he looked into her face. Suddenly he knew. And in a matter of seconds, everything broke and splintered apart between them. The words dropped from her lips like bursts of gunfire, piercing tender flesh and drawing blood.
“It’s about Becca.”
A roaring began in his ears, but it was dull, so he shook his head to try to focus. His legs loosened, unable to hold his weight. “What about Becca?”
“You’re her father, Tristan. Becca is yours.”
The nausea in his gut burned like an ulcer, and his vision dimmed. Slowly he fell to the couch, blinking away the haze, his mind grasping at the only piece of knowledge that meant anything. That meant everything.
Becca was his daughter.
She watched the man she loved sit back in shock, his face ravaged by pain, and fought back the choked sob in her throat. No, she had to be strong. She had to try to make him understand.
“My daughter,” he whispered. “Becca is my daughter.”
“Yes.”
“When? When did you find out you were pregnant? When did you know she was mine and not your husband’s?”
She set her shoulders, determined to tell him everything. “The day you left me to go to New York.”
He let out an animallike cry and rose to his feet, pacing madly in front of her. Waves of fury and confusion whipped from his figure. Fear knotted her belly, but she kept her breathing even, knowing this was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done, getting him to understand. “You said nothing,” he gritted out. “Never mentioned anything about a pregnancy.”
“I was going to tell you that night, but then you said you were leaving, and I knew, Tristan, I just knew if I told you about the baby, you’d feel trapped. You didn’t want to stay with me.”
“I asked you to go to New York with me!” he shouted. “Is that the lie you’ve been telling yourself for seven fucking years? You never gave me a chance!”
“Lower your voice,” she hissed. Fear choked her at the idea of Becca coming into this confrontation. She wrapped her shaking hands tight around her body. Somehow, she had to make him see what she had that night. “I saw your face. You were like an animal stuck in a cage, and I was your jailer. You would’ve hated me for trapping you into a life you resented. You would’ve hated both of us, and I swear to God, I was not going to do that to my child. My parents didn’t want me, and I had to live with that. I refused to give Becca a life of regrets!”
“And what about the second time?” he practically spit out. “When I came to the dressing room and you were in your wedding dress? I asked you again to come with me! What are your excuses for not telling me you were pregnant and marrying some other guy to hide the truth?”
“He was ready to be a father to Becca. He wanted to marry me and build a life in Harrington. He gave me everything I thought I wanted, the type of security I dreamed about for our baby! He wanted what you didn’t!”
“Then why did he leave?”
“Because I couldn’t love him the way he deserved,” she choked out. “He knew it, and so did I. We tried, but we realized after Becca was born, he could never take the place of you.”
He whirled around, muttering a string of foul language that zinged her ears. “She doesn’t know anything, does she?” he asked. “About me?”
Sydney prayed for calm to get through this. Already her idea of making him understand why she’d made such a decision burned in a cloud of smoke. Right now, he was wild, in pain, and ready to attack. She needed to keep her control so they didn’t begin screaming at each other, dragging them back into their past. “No. Jason got a job in Australia when she was six months old. We talked about trying to make it work long-distance, but we both knew the marriage was over. We decided it would be best if he stayed out of her life so she didn’t get confused. He’s remarried now with a child of his own. When Becca was old enough to ask questions, I explained her father lived far away for his job and couldn’t come home. I explained he may not be a part of her life, but she was celebrated the day she was born and she was a precious gift.”
“And she just accepted your weak explanation? Never asked why? Never demanded to see him or talk to him?”
She dragged in a breath. “No. But I’m preparing for when she begins asking more questions and know I’ll have to face a discussion when she gets old enough to truly understand.”
“What did you plan on telling her? More lies? Were you gonna pretend I never existed?”
She held her ground. “No. I knew one day the truth needed to come out, for everyone. I just wasn’t ready to face it all back then, and Becca was too young to understand. I thought you’d left for good, Tristan. When you came back because of your father’s will, you were so cold to me. To Becca. You ignored me and acted like you wanted nothing to do with either of us. I couldn’t take it. It was only recently when you began to mend our relationship that I knew the truth had to be told.”
He gave a bitter laugh, staring at her with disdain and resentment. “Must be nice to control it all, huh? You got to decide everything. I don’t think I believe you were going to tell me about Becca. If I hadn’t pushed this relationship forward, you would’ve kept the truth from me forever. Dear God, I’ve been back for two years! I sat next to Becca, talked to her, took her to that damn recital, and all the time she was mine. The only reason you finally decided this was a good idea is because we ended up in bed with each other.”
She winced but held firm. “I always intended to tell you eventually.”
“I don’t believe you. Do you know how much time I’ve lost? Time I can’t get back. Do you know what that feels like, Sydney?”
Eyes glittering with fury, he stepped toward her, his muscled body tight with drawn tension. “How would you feel if you found out you had a daughter and missed the first seven years of her life? Missed her first step, first word, first smile? And you had no choice, because the person you once trusted decided to keep her from you?”
Tears stung her eyes. “I would be heartbroken,” she whispered. “Angry. Full of pain. But I’m asking you to think back to that time, Tristan. I was so young, and scared, and our relationship had blown up after your mother’s death. I didn’t know what to do! The idea of you being trapped in Harrington, with me and a baby . . . That wasn’t your future. I knew it, and you knew it. You can tell yourself whatever excuses you need and blame me, but I made the best decision I could. I needed to make sure this baby felt loved and not like an accident. Becca will always be my first priority.”
He let out an agonized roar, and the tears flowed faster. God, she’d done this to him.
“You never gave me a chance. Even when I came back, and you had opportunities to tell me, you continued to lie.” He backed away again, his face haunted. “Even in bed, with me buried inside of you, thinking we had this connection nothing could break, you lied.”
A sob choked her. “I knew after that night together we had another chance. A chance to be a family. I wanted to tell you both the truth so we can move forward. Together.”
In that moment, it was as if all the emotion drained out of him, leaving him lifeless. It was more terrifying than the rage. He stared at the wall, his voice completely dead. “You took her away from me. You allowed me to treat her like a stranger, when she’s my flesh and blood—part of the Pierce dynasty—and I swear to God, I’ll never forgive you for that. Never.”
“Tristan.”
“No, you’re going to listen to me now. Because from now on, we’re done playing things your way. We’re done with you manipulating both of us. I’m going out for a while to wrap my head around this.”
“I understand. We can talk more later.”
“I can’t stand looking at you right now,” he said. The chill in his voice sliced her open and left her bleeding. “I need to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret.”
He never looked back. Just shut the door behind him.
Sydney slid down the wall and sank to the floor. Somehow, she had to stay strong. Convince him she’d made the best decisions for both of them at the time. Show him they could heal together and be a family.
Lowering her head on her bent knees, she prayed their second chance wasn’t gone forever.