Made Marian, Volume One by Lucy Lennox
Tristan
Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait to pay the bill. I owned the damned place so Frank knew to comp it all under my name in the system. While following Blue down the hall toward the guest rooms I couldn’t help but notice how his ass looked in his suit pants. His button-down shirt was wrinkled from his workday and the sport coat he’d worn into the bar earlier was slung over one arm while he fumbled with his room key.
I hadn’t realized how tall he was until I was standing behind him in the hallway. He was probably only an inch or two shorter than my six two, but he was trimmer than I was. While I had the dense build of a rugby player, Blue had the frame of a downhill skier, long, slender muscles hidden by graceful movement. I had no idea what made me look at him that way. I hadn’t looked at another man like that since college, and it took me by surprise.
He fumbled with his room key and dropped it, leaning against the door as though he’d had enough.
“Blue,” I called out. “I’m sorry. Please let me apologize.”
Without lifting it from the door, he swiveled his head to look at me. “It’s fine, Tristan. I’m just tired. Listen, I appreciate what you were trying to do back there. I really do.”
I crouched down to retrieve his key card, stepping close to him to get the door open.
When the door opened, Blue walked in and sat down on the end of the queen-sized four-poster bed before taking off his shoes. I wanted to say something but I felt I’d already bothered him enough for one day. As I began to back out of the doorway I heard him call out.
“Do you want to come in for a minute?” Blue asked in a tired voice.
I really did.
After making sure the door closed behind me, I walked in and sat down on the only chair in the room. I hadn’t done much to the lodge rooms since I bought the vineyard three years before. They had been recently remodeled and I was satisfied with the clean, airy look the decorator had chosen for them. This room was painted in a neutral beige but the bedding was a luxurious white puffy duvet topped with navy, beige, and white accent pillows. The glass lamps on the maple bedside tables sported fat rounded shades that softened the light to provide an intimate feel to the room at night.
The only other furniture in the room were a maple dresser opposite the bed and the antique French corner chair I remembered being unique to this room. Blue looked over at me, obviously waiting to hear what I had to say.
“I don’t know what came over me,” I began. “I saw Jeremy staring at you and then I saw the look on your face and I … I guess I just wanted to help you show him that you were going to be okay.”
Blue’s lips tightened. “But instead you showed him I’m so pathetic a straight guy pity-kissed me to make me feel a little less like an absolute loser?”
What? My eyes flashed at him as I realized why he was so angry. “Is that what you thought? That you were some kind of pathetic loser? That’s not it, Blue. You’re… wonderful,” I finished lamely. Wonderful? God, why did I sound like a generic greeting card?
He looked at me, confusion etched on his face. “I just don’t understand, Tristan. Did you kiss me because of Jeremy, or did you kiss me for some other reason?”
“I… because…” I stammered. How the hell was I supposed to know? It wasn’t as if I’d stood there planning some big gesture before I launched myself at him. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I just wanted to kiss you.”
More confusion from Blue. “But you’re straight.” Statement, not question.
“Well, maybe,” I said hesitantly.
“Maybe? What the hell does that mean? You’re either straight or not straight. Which is it?” he demanded.
“If you’d asked me earlier today I would have said I was straight. But then you walked into the bar and I… was really attracted to you. Maybe if Jeremy hadn’t been there I wouldn’t have kissed you, but I’m pretty sure I still would have wanted to.”
“Just like that? You go from being married to a woman to kissing a dude? You don’t seem to be freaking out right now, Tristan. Why aren’t you freaking out?”
“It’s not the first time I’ve kissed a man. I was attracted to guys in school, but just haven’t acted on it since then. Haven’t wanted to. Until now,” I admitted.
Blue studied me for a minute with his head tilted. Like I was a zoo exhibit he was trying to figure out. “Why not?” he asked.
“Why not what?”
“Why haven’t you been attracted to men since then? You’re suggesting you’re bisexual, but you haven’t considered men since college? Seems unlikely. I’m guessing there’s a story there.” Blue hit the nail on the head, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to peel my heart open like a banana and present it to him on a tray.
“The short version is that my last experience put me off men pretty badly. I thought it would be safer to stick with women, so I did,” I said.
Blue slid back to rest his back against the headboard, long legs extended straight out in front of him crossing at the ankles. His feet were bare and they kept drawing my eyes. What was it about someone’s bare feet that made them look both homey and vulnerable?
He was still studying me, but this time there was something else behind his eyes. “Tristan, did someone hurt you?” he asked quietly.
My throat felt tight at the sound of his concern. “No, not like that. Not really.”
He must have sensed I didn’t want to talk about it because he changed the subject slightly.
“Is it just me or does that guy Brad look like he’s twelve?” he asked with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “My mom is going to lose her shit when she sees him with that kid.”
“Definitely a preteen.” I laughed agreeably. “Wonder if he had to get parental permission to leave town.”
“And how the hell does someone find a life partner and get married in a matter of months? I mean, Jesus Christ. Rush much? Fuck. Why not just sleep with him? Why marriage? What’s the hurry?” Blue seemed to be picking up speed.
“Don’t know. I have good friends who met and got married that fast and have been together for years. I asked them once. They told me that when you know, you just know. I disagree.”
Blue asked, “It wasn’t like that with Sheila?”
“No. But then again, nothing was spontaneous with Sheila. Marrying her was a little bit like negotiating a business deal. She wanted to wait until it made sense financially, logistically, etc. When the time was right, we got married at the courthouse. No fanfare, no family. No romance at all. I hated it,” I remembered.
“Then why did you do it?” Blue asked.
I shrugged and he laughed. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“That sounds awful. No wonder the marriage didn’t last.”
“No shit. It was never good. I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe it was one of those situations where our body clocks told us it was time to settle down so we went with who was right now instead of who was right,” I explained.
