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Trust Me: A Bad Boy MC Romance by Cristal Pierre (37)

 

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“I thought that you were coming here together,” I said, grabbing two wine glasses from the hardwood cupboard.

 

“That was the plan, but David had a last minute appointment with his doctor.”

 

“Like his boss?”

 

“No. David was in a car accident and his doctor announced that he’ll be away for two weeks, so…”

 

“On his way here?” I asked, slightly more alarmed than my mother seemed to be. “Is he alright?”

 

“Oh, no, the accident was a couple of months ago. David is fine, they got his cast off last week. And the jerk who hit him is in jail, finally.”

 

“Jail?” I asked, watching my mum check out the assortments of wine. Between Alex’s murderous rage and the crazy news about my step brother, it seemed like today was the weirdest day of my life.

 

“Yes. It was some sort of conflict with the father of one of his patients. The kid was abused and David reported it. Next day, the jerk hit him in the hospital parking lot.”

 

“What? That's crazy!”

 

Mum mumbled something I couldn’t make out as she was halfway into the cupboard. “What do you think of Pinot Gris?”

 

“I… Don’t really mind,” I said and walked out onto the patio. I needed to calm my nerves, they were stretched out thin and I was reacting strangely to seemingly unimportant situations. The last thing I needed was Mum asking questions.

 

The sun was setting over the forest covered hills on the horizon, its breathtaking beauty stopping me in my tracks. I forgot I was still holding the wine glasses or that I was tired and had wanted to drop into the rocking chair only seconds ago, the only thing taking over my mind being a strange feeling of serenity. My eyes relaxed, hypnotized by the bloodied waves of the lake before me, mysteriously splashing just below the patio.

 

“Spring is beautiful in Vermont, isn’t it?” I heard Mum at my side. I sighed.

 

“It’s like a fairytale.”

 

“Indeed. Come, let’s have a glass of wine before the boys arrive. George called, they’ll be here in less than an hour.”

 

I followed her to the heavy table perfectly positioned to have the best view over the landscape and set the glasses on the rugged surface.

 

“Nice cabin,” I said, looking around myself with a strange feeling of contentment.

 

“Yeah. George and his business partner have each a timeshare. I think it’s a great investment.”

 

“I never understood timeshares,” I said, shaking my head.

 

Mum giggled, holding the glass to her lips. She looked happy and it was starting to rub off on me.

 

I smiled and, as I sat down, I couldn’t help but notice how excited I was to finally meet this mysterious step brother of mine. “Possible step brother,” I corrected myself. Mum didn’t seem too sure about her new relationship. “Speaking of which,” I thought.

 

“So, how are things with George?” I asked her.

 

“I don’t know,” she said, looking over the lake.

 

“What is it?”

 

I waited for her reply and sipped from my wine. As it turned out, I didn’t like Pinot Gris. “Duly noted,” I said to myself and set the glass aside.

 

“Mum? What’s happening?”

 

“I really can’t tell you, honey. I don’t know it for myself yet.”

 

“Do you think it has something to do with Dad?” I asked quietly, after a while.

 

She pursed her lips. “No. I don’t know. I mean, George is an attractive man, succesful, nice. He has everything a woman wants. But… It’s like something’s missing.”

 

“Like sparks?” I suggested, smiling meaningfully.

 

“Oh, honey. Sparks at my age?”

 

“Come on, Mum! What age? You’re young.”

 

She giggled; it was obvious she was flattered.

 

“Just give it time, Mum. You’ve been dating George for only a month.”

 

“That’s what I was thinking. That’s why I agreed to this weekend getaway.”

 

I raised my glass. “To a happy weekend and new beginnings.”

 

“Cheers!”

 

We watched the sunset until it was completely dark outside. Neither of us wanted to move, the tranquility of the evening seeping through our bones in the most pleasant way. Then, we heard a car on the driveway.

 

“Oh, God! The boys are here and we have no dinner!” Mum exclaimed and jumped to her feet.

 

I giggled. “I don't think that will be a problem, Mum.”

 

“Honey, I gave my word dinner would be ready. They are even late, for goodness’ sake, and I still haven’t done anything!”

 

“Calm down, Mum. I brought my secret ten-minute dinner.”

 

“Pasta?”

 

I nodded and stood up. “Let’s make this thing happen.”

 

She looked unconvinced, so I went into the kitchen and showcased the ingredients.

 

“Whole grain pasta, tomato sauce, garlic, olive oil, and parmesan cheese. See?”

 

“Honey, isn't this too… thin?”

 

I gasped, feigning offence. “I’ll demonstrate, ye of little faith,” I said and proceeded.

 

By the time the men came through the door, the water was boiling and the sauce was simmering viciously.

 

“This smells amazing,” I heard George say.

 

“Yes. Eva is making pasta for dinner,” said Mum, apologetically.

 

“Delicious!” I was unfamiliar with that voice. It was low and husky, and gave me forbidden chills. I shook my head, dispelling the uncomfortable feeling.

 

“Oh, David! Nice seeing you again. What did the doctor say?”

 

He mumbled something I couldn't understand. When a drop of hot tomato sauce splashed on my hand, I realized I was straining to hear him talk. “How un-ladylike,” I scolded myself and put the brown pasta in the pot.

 

“You must be Eva.”

 

I yelped, startled to hear him so close behind me.

 

“What are you? A cat? Gee, make a noise!” I mumbled, looking down. I didn't know why I felt so embarrassed, it was his fault after all.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Clearing my voice, I dared to look up. What could go wrong?

 

Little did I know that I was making my biggest mistake for the day. First, it felt like my eyes needed a lot of time to get to his, as he was surprisingly tall. Then, those eyes started a strange and unfamiliar knot into a spin in my stomach.

 

“Not good,” I whispered and looked away from his perfectly tanned complexion.

 

“Hi, I’m David,” he insisted, and extended a hand to me.

 

“Um, yeah, hi. Eva,” I replied faintly and only brushed my hand over his. I swallowed hard, unsure of how to proceed from there.

 

“Nice to meet you, Eva. Can I give you a hand?”

 

“No, thanks. I only need to chop the garlic, then we set the table.”

 

“I’ll set the table, then.”

 

I breathed easily when he was finally away from me. “What was that?” I asked myself, frowning. Alex popped into my head, grimacing like a mad animal. If he knew about what had just happened, whatever that was, he would definitely kill me.

 

I swallowed hard again, trying to steady my shaking hands. I had a hard time controlling my wrists, as if they were suddenly turning into wool. I was annoyed, and tried to imagine scolding David for doing this to me, but ended up picturing his five o’clock shadow brushing over my lips as he was kissing me.

 

“What the fuck?” I said aloud, in an attempt to stop my thoughts from going down the wrong path. I took my eyes off the chopping board for one split second and felt a sharp pain in two of my fingers. “Oh, great,” I said, hurrying over to the sink. The cold water numbed the pain, but the blood spillage seemed to take a turn for the worse.

 

“What happened?” Mum cried from over the counter.

 

“Nothing, Mum,” I said, clenching my teeth. I had never liked the sight of blood, much less when it originated from me and I didn’t want to faint in front of Mum’s guests.

 

But things rarely went my way. “I can’t…” I managed to mumble, before the roaring in my ears began. Soon after that I couldn’t see anything.

 

“Hey, Eva! Look at me!” David demanded, gently slapping my cheek.

 

“No, no…” I was petrified by the prospect of having him take care of me in this state. Apparently, I didn’t have much of a choice.

 

Hushing Mother’s panicked ramblings, he took me away from the kitchen and sat me down on the living room couch. I couldn't take my eyes off the wound.

 

“Look at me,” he demanded again, this time in a low voice. I obeyed.

 

I lost track of time, the only thing I could see being his beautiful blue eyes. It was a good distraction; before I knew it, he had patched me up nicely. It didn’t even hurt, surprisingly enough.

 

I checked my hand, expecting to see a mess on my skin, but everything looked in order. It didn't even make me sick.

 

“Here,” he said and shoved a glass of ice water under my nose. I took it with shaky hands and gulped it down in one go. “Good girl. How are you feeling?”

 

“A bit shaky, but fine.”

 

“That’s good news. Do you think you need more time or can you join us for dinner?”

 

“I’ll be there in a minute. Don't wait for me.”

 

He nodded and walked away. His silence made me feel even more embarrassed. I had made a fool of myself and he was now seeing me as the weak girl I was. I needed to do something, to at least try to repair the way things have went for a first impression.

 

“David?” I called weakly, my voice hoarse with emotions. It felt like I was about to do the most difficult thing ever.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Thank you.” I forced myself to look up, to make sure he didn’t find this amusing.

 

He just smiled, the warmest smile I ever saw, and nodded. “No problem. I’m a doctor, that’s what I do.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re a kid doctor.” Why were there words coming out of my mouth?

 

“Technically, a pediatrician sees patients aged between a few months and up to the age of 21. So you qualify.”

 

I felt a bit offended. “I am 18 and I don’t see a pediatrician anymore.”

 

“Most people don’t,  at your age, you’re right.”

 

He leaned against the kitchen doorframe and looked down at me. He wasn’t looking down on me, but merely his standing position left him no choice but to bend his neck as he had his eyes trained on me. It was intimidating, but in a different way than I was used to.

 

I met his eyes again; mistake number three. The knot in my stomach was back. I forced myself to stand up, cleared my voice and said:

 

“OK, I’m fine. I’m sorry for that, I know it was just a little scratch but I don't like blood.” As I spoke I was looking anywhere but at him.

 

“I know. Hemophobia. There’s no blood anymore so you’ll be fine.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Provided that you’ll come to me to change the bandages.”

 

My head snapped up in surprised and I looked into his eyes puzzled.

 

“What? Why?”

 

“I don’t think it’s a pleasant feeling. So we avoid it by having me do the patching. This way, you don't have to look at the blood again. It’s in everyone’s best interest,” he said, pointing to my mum. “Deal?”

 

“I don’t know how you shut her up, but you need to teach me that someday.”

 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Come on, dinner is getting cold.”

 

He grabbed my wrist. I flinched instinctively; whenever Alex grabbed my wrist like that, it was never good.

 

“Sorry, you scared me,” I said. He raised his eyebrows.

 

“I didn’t mean to…”

 

“Who said dinner is getting cold? Eaten, maybe, but nothing will be left to get cold. This thing is delicious!” George finally said, after swallowing a big bite of his food. “You’re a good cook, Eva.”

 

“And clumsy. But, thanks. I am glad you like it.”

 

A sudden feeling of happiness washed over me as I laid my eyes on the kitchen table. Small, round and rugged, it was now prettily arranged with fine china and wine glasses. Mum and George were sitting next to each other, devouring my humble pasta.

 

It made me smile. It felt like home.