Vegas Aces: The Wide Receiver Complete Series

CHAPTER 15 TRISTAN

I toss and turn as my mind wanders to Tessa. I’m wearing her out from all the planning, and she deserves a break. Hell, she fell asleep at nine-thirty. We make fun of our parents for doing the same.

And so today I’m surprising her.

I could use a little R and R myself, so I booked us time at a spa near Davenport—not my mom’s spa, but one close to one of my favorite restaurants in town. It’s also not terribly far from Chris, who I actually do need to meet with today. His brother-in-law has a close friend who’s renting us the bounce houses, and he agreed to cut me a deal if I agreed to toss a football around with his kid for a few minutes. Done and done.

We finished the extension a couple days ago, and yesterday I brought in a buddy to paint. Today I’m setting up the equipment, and tomorrow will be the first day I actually get to use it.

It turned out perfectly, and we even spent some time insulating the rest of the garage so my dad can get rid of the old space heater warming up the place as he creates more and more projects in preparation for the festival.

It’s a little after nine when I finish setting up the treadmill, and I take a quick shower. When I get out, I realize I forgot to grab clean clothes to change into. I head to my bedroom with a towel tied around my waist and water still dripping from my hair. I grab a pair of boxers, an Aces tee, and a pair of jeans. I’m about to head back to the bathroom when I glance out the window.

Old habits die hard, and I glance out at her bedroom window an average of a hundred thousand times every day.

Standing there with her jaw slackened, watching my every move, is Tessa Taylor.

Her eyes widen as I catch her gawking, and I’m half-tempted to drop the towel, show her the goods, and get on with it.

But I know where she stands on the whole marriage thing. After recently finding out about her father’s affairs, I can understand why she’d hold marriage even more sacred even after I told her the truth about mine. I can respect her feelings.

But it doesn’t mean that I don’t want her more and more with every passing second.

It’s borderline painful to be around her and not get to touch her, to kiss her, to hold her in my arms. Our fingers brush as we pass a piece of paper with a note on it regarding the festival, and I feel the spark that always ignited between us.

The air is dry, and it’s winter, and logically I know that’s why there’s a spark. Still, there’s some romantic notion in the corner of my mind that it’s the electric connection between us.

The more time I spend with her, the more I continue to fall for the woman she is now. She’s smart, and she’s organized, and she’s efficient. She’s a planner, and she’s detail-oriented, and she’s polite and kind no matter who she’s speaking with. She’s gorgeous. She’s seven years older than the last time I was able to sit with her at her kitchen table, and time has been kind to her despite her own insecurities that it hasn’t been. I’ve heard her muttered comments about how she’s gained weight or how she sports some laugh lines she didn’t have before.

Those are things I never noticed. All I can see when I look at her is how goddamn beautiful she is. I see the way her blue eyes sparkle to an ocean shade when she’s excited about something, or how they turn almost navy when they’re stormy with anger. I see the way the highlights in her hair have started to grow and fade, allowing her natural caramel color to shine through. I see the way she snags her bottom lip between her teeth when she’s concentrating on something or the way one eyebrow quirks up a little when she’s confused about something.

The wrinkles and the weight she seems to think she’s gained might make her insecure, but to anybody else, they simply make her real . And in my line of work, I deal with enough of the phony. Hell, I married someone who’s middle name could be fake . The amount of money Savannah spends on Botox and fillers and wax is criminal. I don’t even know what she looks like without make-up since she had it tattooed on her face long before I ever met her.

I finally raise a hand to wave, and she waves back even though I can tell she’s totally embarrassed that I caught her ogling eyes. I don’t mind, though. She can look all she wants. She can touch if she wants. She can have all of me, because the more time I spend with her, the more I want all of her.

I know she’s holding back about some things, and I plan to ask her about them today. I finish getting dressed in the bathroom and pull on a sweatshirt then head over to her house.

She covers her eyes as she answers the door. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.” I pull her hand away from her eyes. “Hey, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, right?”

She chokes on a laugh. “Uh, Tristan? The body I saw before belonged to an eighteen-year-old. This body belongs to a man .” She gestures at my abdomen as she says the words, her cheeks flushed with mortification at her admission.

I chuckle. “I’ve got other manly things you can inspect if you’d like.” My tone is suggestive, and that’s the exact moment I spot Mrs. Taylor pass by, her eyes wide and her hand slapped over her mouth as if she definitely heard what I just said and she’s trying to stifle her laughter.

It’s my turn to be slightly mortified. “It’s just harmless flirting, Mrs. Taylor!” I exclaim.

She raises her brows and moves her hand. “By all means, flirt away. Don’t let me stop you.”

I shake my head with embarrassment as I turn back to Tessa. “Do you, uh, want to come into town with me today? I need to meet with the guy for the bounce houses and we can pick up a few things while we’re there.”

“As long as we can both erase the last thirty minutes, I’m totally down with that.”

I laugh, and then she grabs her purse and we head out to my truck.

It’s only a twenty-five minute drive, and I have some things I’ve been wanting to say, so as soon as we’re on the highway, I shoot my shot.

“I feel like we’ve been spending so much time together, but we haven’t really talked , you know?” I begin.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, keeping her eyes focused out the windshield.

“We’ve been sticking to surface stuff and working together on the festival, but that doesn’t mean I’ve really gotten to know who Tessa Taylor is now . And I want to. I want to know all of you.”

She shrugs, and I sense the tension she’s suddenly placing between us. Is it because I’m married? Or is there something else at play...something that happened seven years ago she’s still not ready to tell me?

“Not much to tell. I left, went to college, became a nurse, and worked in a doctor’s office for a few years before I quit and moved back to Fallon Ridge. Everything sort of feels like an epic failure and waste of time, which is why planning the festival with you has given me a renewed purpose.”

“Can we back up a few paces and start at the beginning?” I ask quietly.

She sighs with a bit of frustration as she fidgets with the strap of her purse, clearly uncomfortable in having this conversation. “I’d rather not. I’ve already told you, I went to live with my aunt in Chicago.”

“But why?” I press, as if having her tell me the story again might help me find some holes in the lies she’s telling…because the more time I spend with her, the more I feel like something happened back then. It had to have. People don’t just disappear without a trace like that. “Was it me? Us?”

She presses her lips together. “My dad didn’t want me to be with you. He loved you like a son, but he didn’t want his little girl making what he deemed mistakes. He wanted to hide those mistakes, so he ripped me away from you, and it was the hardest time in my life, so I’d rather not keep going back to it.” She swipes at her cheeks, and when I glance over, I spot the tears.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “It was the hardest time in my life, too, and I know it’s hard to talk about. But maybe we can get to a place where we can…I don’t know. Move forward.” I reach over and grab her hand, squeezing it in mine. “Together.”

She squeezes back. “I wish we could, Tristan, but you’re married and there’s still so much you don’t know.” She exhales heavily.

“Then tell me. Let me in, Tessa.”

She clears her throat, and this is it. She’s finally going to let me in.

“Watch out!” she yells at the same time I yell, “Fuck!” as I spot the bird flying right toward my windshield at the last second. I swerve a little and narrowly avoid missing it while keeping us safe inside this truck barreling down the highway at nearly eighty miles per hour, my heart racing the way only nearly hitting something with your truck can make your heart race.

I suck in a deep breath as my heart begins to return to normal speeds, but my chest still pounds from the commotion.

We’re both quietly reeling, and it’s then I realize that goddamn bird just flew away with more than his life. He took with him the chance of her finally letting me in again.