Wanting a Family Man (Raven’s Cove #3)

Chapter Fifteen

C loe had become a restless sleeper while she’d been in custody. Trystan had told her he was a light sleeper so she had planned to go to her own bed, but after they nearly screwed each other to death, they both fell into a hard sleep.

When she woke, his morning erection was nudging her tailbone. She drew a big breath and stretched against him, liking the rumble of gratification that resounded in his chest. His hand roamed across her front, petting and waking up her senses to his touch.

“Do we have time to do something about that?” She snuggled her butt harder into his cock. “What time is it?”

“Shh. The windows are open,” he reminded her in a whisper, mouth against her naked shoulder. “But yeah, the alarm won’t go off for another half hour.”

When he got to exploring between her thighs, she was already wet.

“You won’t take that long to go off, will you?” His breath teased her ear as his finger slid up and down, slow and sure, making her catch her breath and writhe with pleasure.

Much as she wished he could have thrust into her like this, raw and hot, she was equally glad that he rolled away to get a condom. She turned so she was facing him and they shared a few lazy kisses before he pressed her onto her back.

She could nuzzle his spicy skin for days. His tongue on the tautness of her nipple was pure aphrodisiac. When she spread her legs wider, and guided him, he sank in to the root on one long thrust.

The way he filled her was so good . Her knee came up to his rib cage without her consciously moving it, but he guided her leg straight again, then the other. Levering onto his elbows, he slid his legs so they were outside hers, sandwiching her own legs closed.

The delicate pinch of her pussy around his steely cock had her eyes flaring wider. Her mouth opened to release an unintelligible moan.

“Okay?” He thrust a few times. It was more shallow, but the swollen head of his cock rubbed some really good places inside her.

“Yes” was her throaty response.

Her legs twitched between his, instinctively wanting to spread wide to take him deeper. He held her in the vise of his hard thighs, keeping her locked in this steady, merciless ride, which was kind of kinky and super hot.

“Fuck, Trystan.”

“Shhh.”

Other boaters would have their own windows open. She knew that, but this was the most ecstatic torture.

His foot must have found the bulkhead at their feet. He pushed deeper into her.

“Oh, fuck.” Her vision was just a haze of arousal.

“Shhh.” He sounded half laughing, half helpless and covered her mouth with his own, swallowing her moans as he kept up these slow thrusts that stimulated the hell out of her.

She clenched her pussy and arched beneath him, exposing her throat to his open-mouthed kisses, rubbing her breasts against his chest.

“It feels so good. Don’t stop,” she pleaded. “Don’t stop.”

He caught her nipple in the V of his fingers and kept to that easy pace, but pressed harder, pulling forth an excruciatingly slow orgasm where the first taut shivers hovered and teased, threatening to be all there was.

She slapped her hands on the bulkhead overhead and lifted her hips, and finally the barreling train of true climax arrived, sending rushes of heat and pulsing clenches through her pelvis and down her legs.

Her orgasm triggered his, and for the longest time, they were pinned together, mouths sealed, bodies joined and trembling while they tried to stifle their long groans of mindless pleasure.

Then all his weight was on her, squashing her breath right out of her before he managed to pull free and roll them onto their sides. The condom went into the bin and they lay damp against each other, limp and dozing, until the alarm went off.

If that could have been Cloe’s life, if the way the next week unfolded could have been her future, she would have grabbed it with both hands.

They took Storm hiking, then she cooked aboard the Storm Ridge . Logan insisted on making it a dinner cruise, even though the weather was iffy. He played captain, so he didn’t drink.

Trystan spent almost the whole time on deck with Biyen, helping him spot animals. The rest of the adults stayed where it was warm in the saloon, watching Storm scoot around the furniture. She was so close to taking her first steps!

Cloe and Trystan took Storm again the next day. They were cooped up on the Storm Ridge since it was pouring with rain. Out of boredom, Trystan walked them over to see Reid’s office and the marina where Sophie and Logan had adjoining offices.

They took Storm home in the afternoon for her nap, leaving her with Emma while they went back to the Storm Ridge for their own “nap.”

Wednesday morning, they were off again with a new set of guests, all pleasant, thankfully. The weather was hit and miss, but they saw tons of wildlife that trip, including some seals pulled up on a rocky ledge and an eagle that was diving for fish.

When they got to Bella Coola, Cloe visited the library where she looked at job boards for towns in BC, Alaska, Washington, and Florida. She even did a cursory search for her father’s name. That needle was hiding in a particularly big haystack, and she would need a profile to reach out to any of them, something she was reluctant to do, so she closed out, glum.

Trystan’s mom had taken the kids to visit friends in Nanaimo so Trystan only dropped by to check on their house. Then he collected Cloe from the library and took her back to the Storm Ridge , where they made love with leisurely thoroughness, then showered. By the time Johnny and the guests returned, she and Trystan weren’t even on the same deck.

She felt a little melancholy that they were keeping their affair so secret, but she really couldn’t take teasing or questions or any attention on her sex life at all. She liked having this one thing that was just for her. Her relationship with Trystan was private. Special. She wanted it kept that way.

Then they were heading back into Raven’s Cove, ready to do it all over again.

It was as close to perfect as she could imagine life to be, but she feared it wouldn’t last. Nothing good ever did.

*

Trystan kept cycling from guilt to justification and back again.

Fooling around with Cloe was not the best idea he’d ever had, but it felt so damned good. It was more than physical gratification. He liked her. She was funny and smart, thoughtful and earnest, and she was constantly looking for the bright side. If it was raining and cold, it was a good reason for hot chocolate. If they were out of hot chocolate, it was an opportunity to try something new.

He knew that attitude was her way of resetting her life. She was starting from scratch, moving forward in the way she intended to go on, but it was almost like watching Storm figure out she could pull herself up only to crash onto her butt and bump her chin along the way. He didn’t want to see either of them bump their chin. He wanted to be right there to catch Cloe when she stumbled.

That wasn’t his place, though. Aside from the two nights when they were alone aboard the Storm Ridge , or the occasional stolen hour when the guests and Johnny were out of the way, they maintained a small but well-defined distance.

She was really good at keeping their extracurricular activities private and that bothered him a little. She wasn’t ashamed of him, but that layer of secrecy created a sense that they were doing something they shouldn’t.

They were unattached, consenting adults, he reminded himself. They had every right to screw each other sightless and keep it to themselves.

But she worked for him. She was vulnerable right now. He definitely shouldn’t be having sex with her.

As they finished their cleaning of the Storm Ridge , and it was once again theirs for two days, he really wanted to drag her into his cabin and have his way with her.

He made himself ask, “You want to make the beds later and head up to the house right now?”

“Sure! Let me get my laundry.”

“Get your toothbrush, too. Reid and Emma are in Victoria. I’m staying with Storm tonight so you can stay, too.”

“Really?” She lit up like a Christmas tree. When they started toward the house a few minutes later, she was practically skipping.

“Am I going to have to tie a string on you to keep you on the ground?”

“I missed her,” she chuckled.

It was Sunday, so Trystan half expected a full house when he walked in without knocking, but it was only Logan and Storm.

“Hey, Mom, have you seen—” Logan was in the kitchen and cut himself off as he came to the archway and saw them. “Oh, hi. You’re early.”

“Chores go fast when there’s two of us.” Trystan thumbed at Cloe.

“Hi.” She set down her bag and toed off her shoes.

“I thought Soph and Biyen were staying here with you?” Trystan said.

“They did, but Sophie went home to get some stuff done before work tomorrow. Mom’s here, too. She’s having coffee with Fabiana. I thought you were her, coming back. I can’t find the binkie Storm likes.” He offered a pink pacifier to her.

Storm turned her face away and made a fussy noise.

“She’s figured out that you-know-who isn’t here,” Logan continued. “She is not happy.”

“You can’t even say her name?”

“Not even the letter.”

Em was the first sound they had figured out that Storm understood.

Trystan took his baby sister and held her above his head. “What’s going on, limpet? Why so sad?”

Storm smiled briefly, happy to see him, then stuck her fingers in her mouth and dissolved into a staccato cry of dismay.

“This’ll be a fun evening.” He cuddled her into his chest and gave her narrow back a rub, trying to reassure her.

She immediately rubbed her face into his shoulder, leaving a patch of questionable material.

“When did Glenda get here?” Trystan asked.

“This morning. She’s staying with us, but she left a casserole for you. She knows you’re usually back around this time. She said she’ll come by to say hello.”

Logan was watching Cloe as she closed in on Trystan and played peekaboo with Storm, covering her face and revealing her bright smile.

“Cloe’s going to stay in the rumpus room,” Trystan informed him. It definitely wasn’t a question.

“I’d stay on the Storm Ridge if I were you,” Logan said with a grimace. “That pull-out sounds like you’re crushing a nest of quails every time you roll over. Feels like it, too.”

“I don’t mind. It’ll be nice to spend a little more time with Storm, and I’ll finish sorting through Tiffany’s things so they’re out of the way by the time Emma gets back.”

Logan gave a suit yourself shrug. They were all getting used to the idea that Cloe was exactly what she appeared to be—broke, harmless, and just wanting to be part of her niece’s life.

Cloe dipped her head again, trying to catch Storm’s eye. “She looks tired.”

“She was up every thirty minutes last night. She didn’t want anything to do with me when I went in to her. Or Sophie. Even Biyen tried at one point. He said over breakfast, ‘Maybe we should rethink having our own baby.’”

“Did he really?” Cloe sputtered with laughter. “That kid cracks me up.”

Trystan was more astonished by the substance of that statement. “Are you and Sophie trying for a baby?”

“Just talking about it, but given that performance? I doubt I’ll get laid for a year, out of an abundance of caution on her part,” he said with exasperation.

“TMI, man.” Trystan held up a hand and cringed.

“You just asked me if we’re having sex. Where do you think babies come from? Sophie thinks it could be a new tooth.” Logan nodded at Storm. “She’s at home with Biyen, so I’ll go help with mowing and laundry and all the rest. Sister Sunshine is dry as of ten minutes ago, ate an hour ago, and definitely needs a nap but really doesn’t want one. Good luck.” He kissed Storm’s hair. “See ya later, gitty-gator.”

The minute the door closed behind him, Storm picked up her head to look for Logan and began to cry with such heartbreak, he might as well have abandoned her alone on the moon.

“I’m not going to tell him you miss him that bad.” Trystan bit back his chuckle. “It’ll go to his head. Let’s see what’s out here.” He carried her to the deck where he began pointing to boats and birds and whatever else might distract her.

“Oh.” Cloe picked up something from a lounger. “Is this the one—?”

“Yeah.” He nodded at the green pacifier. “Wash it before she sees it.”

Cloe brought it out a moment later. Storm opened her mouth to accept it, then pulled it out to look at it, before she stuck it back in. She dropped her head against Trystan’s shoulder.

“Better?” Cloe stood close enough to gently rub Storm’s leg and foot.

The baby’s hand batted out. She patted Cloe’s cheek, then rubbed Cloe’s short hair. As they stood like that, close and quiet, she began to relax. Her head weighed heavier against Trystan’s chest.

Cloe continued petting Storm’s foot and watching her with such naked love, it hurt to see it, but Trystan couldn’t look away.

It was a peek at the way Cloe would look at her own child, he realized, and something in him fishtailed even as a vision unspooled like a film in his mind’s eye. He could see Cloe so clearly, cradling her own infant, touching curly hair ever-so-softly, smiling with pride and patience and infinite acceptance.

Children were such a far-off ambition for him, his only serious thoughts around them were to take precautions against making any. He wore condoms. Always. And he encouraged his partners to use whatever additional protection they preferred.

But he had the sudden thought that if he and Cloe accidentally became pregnant… It wouldn’t be a calamity. It might be a chance at something, maybe even something incredible.

Her gaze lifted and she realized he was watching her.

His heart rolled over in his chest. The moment felt unguarded on both sides.

Her lashes flared as she looked into his soul and saw things he couldn’t name. He knew they were reflections of her own inner facets—all those pure, open, aching things that glinted and drifted, looking for a place to land.

Storm was a warm, limp weight against him, and Cloe stood close and still. She was so beautiful, his breath felt too big for his lungs. He cupped the side of her neck and her eyes became a labyrinth he never wanted to escape.

Something caught his attention, though. A faint noise, a movement behind the screen that covered the sliding door into the house.

He realized Glenda was in the kitchen and dropped his hand.

Cloe turned, stepping away from him as she did but looking up at him with wariness.

Trystan gave her a half nod. It’s fine . But he had to wonder what Glenda might have seen. Nothing . He had touched Cloe’s neck. So what?

His conscience pinched all the same.

Storm was heavy as a sack of sugar so Trystan seized the excuse to put her down. He gently slid the door open.

Glenda turned from putting something in the refrigerator.

“Sleeping?” she whispered with a smile.

Trystan nodded, but his heart lurched, feeling as though it beat outside his chest. Only two people had ever seen straight through him: his mother and his stepmother.

She knows . That’s all he could think as he climbed the stairs.

“You must be Cloe. I’m Glenda,” he heard her say.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Trystan never worried about anything Glenda might say or do. She pried, unabashedly, but with care and gentleness and only with the best intentions.

Nevertheless, his desire to protect Cloe redlined. Why? They hadn’t been kissing. Just an almost kiss.

Just a moment where he had felt as though he stood with his toes curled against the edge of a cliff and had been about to throw himself off.

Thankfully, Storm seemed to have plunged straight to REM level. She didn’t stir when he set her in her crib and draped a light blanket over her.

He picked up the baby monitor and came downstairs to hear the women talking about her.

“It sounds like she gave them a rough night.” Glenda’s voice was filled with amusement. “Sophie told Logan she was going home to mow the lawn, but she told me she was going for a nap.”

“Sophie is so funny. So is Biyen. Congratulations, I guess?” Cloe faltered. “Is it proper etiquette to congratulate the parents of people who get engaged? Maybe it only applies if they arranged it.”

“Oh, this was definitely something Sophie’s mother and I conspired toward from the time they were in grade school. I’m very happy to accept congratulations for it. You got her down?” Glenda asked Trystan as he came into the kitchen.

“We’ll see.” He set the monitor on the island and said of the coffee Glenda was making, “You do love me.”

“Who would dare not?” she asked with indignance. “Give me their names.”

“Logan.” He stole a cookie from the container on the counter and shoved it between his teeth, adding a muffled, “Reid. Cloe?”

“I don’t know how to answer that,” she said, deliberately misunderstanding him. “Glenda sounds serious and she’s very close to the kitchen knives.”

“She cooked professionally most of her life.” He removed the cookie from his mouth. “Her knife skills are excellent. She could probably make it look like an accident.” He brought the open container of cookies to the table where Cloe sat and left it there.

“I wish you wouldn’t act as though you boys don’t care about each other.” Glenda lifted an admonishing gaze to him as he devoured the chocolate chip oatmeal in three bites. “The world won’t stop spinning, you know.”

“What do you think causes climate change? We all showed up here four months ago and started being nice to our little sister. Now the ice caps are melting.”

“Has it only been four months?” Glenda glanced at the calendar on the wall.

“Four and a half? We got here April first.” They were already into the second week of August.

“And how long have you been here, Cloe?” Glenda left him leaning on the counter by the coffee maker and joined Cloe at the table.

“Um…” Cloe licked her lips, growing more alert as Glenda sat down facing her, as though she sensed she was about to be interrogated.

It wouldn’t be anything so dramatic. Glenda was more of a therapist who invited you to spill your guts, but she was definitely digging for intel on what was going on between them.

“I guess two weeks or so? It feels longer.” Cloe glanced over at him, lips quirking before she returned her attention to Glenda. “I’m trying to figure out where I should look for work once the tours are finished, so it will still be convenient to come here and visit Storm.”

“As soon as you find where that is, you let me know,” Glenda said.

Cloe chuckled. “I came on the midnight ferry myself. Do you visit often?”

“Once or twice a year. More this year because we had the two funerals. Wilf, and then Art, Sophie’s grandfather. I came to help with the baby a couple of times, too. And we had Reid and Emma’s wedding reception. Now I’m here for Logan and Sophie’s engagement. Those celebrations are worth a little inconvenience.”

The coffeemaker quit gurgling so Trystan took mugs from the cupboard, trying not to react to Cloe’s talk of leaving.

“Clo? You’re having coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“None for me, thank you. I’m coffeed out,” Glenda said.

Trystan poured a glass of water for Glenda and brought it with the filled mugs.

“You’ve been working with Trystan on the tours, Logan said. How is that going?”

“Really good. The guests have been great and come on.” Cloe waved at the window. “One couple on this recent tour said they’ve been on literally a hundred cruises. They started doing them on their honeymoon and book two or three a year. I can’t imagine having that kind of money,” she said in an aside. “But they said this was one of the best ever, and I’m getting paid to be on it. I feel like I’ve won the lottery.”

“Hmm.” Glenda’s noise was halfway between amusement and speculation. She glanced at Trystan.

It’s not like that , he wanted to say, even though he wasn’t sure what she suspected.

“All the guests love her,” Trystan felt compelled to say. “Cloe chats with the ones who like to chat and if they want to be left alone, she tells them to come upstairs to sit with me.”

“Still loving your hosting duties, then?” Glenda gave his arm a wry pat. “The last time we talked, you were looking forward to getting back to your other work. Is that still the plan? Logan told me the sale is underway to the Heiltsuk Nation. That’s one thing settled, at least.”

“It might take another hundred years to settle, let’s be real. But yeah, it’s a good step in the right direction. I do want to get back to my own thing, though.” That wasn’t a lie. He did want that. His brain was only shorting out because it was still such a disjointed plan.

Glenda’s expression remained mild, but as their gazes met, his gut filled with gravel.

She definitely knows. She knew he was sleeping with Cloe, and she knew that he knew she knew.

We’re consenting adults. We can do what we want.

The defensive blurt was muted by an icy thought. Chip off the ol’ block .

Glenda didn’t do censure. Even when she had pressed them to look after their little sister, she hadn’t used forces like anger or shame. No, she simply spelled out the reality of a situation and expected you not to disappoint her.

Disappointing Glenda wasn’t the end of the world. It just made you exactly like Dad.

“I should head to Sophie’s. I promised Biyen we’d play cards this afternoon.” Glenda rose. “Logan said you’ll have Storm all day tomorrow?”

“He’s covering for Reid at the office, isn’t he? We were planning to take her for a hike, but we can do something low-key if you want to join us.”

“I’m spending the day with Biyen, but we’ll be around and can take Storm if you have things you need to do.”

Like have sex?

Now his conscience was just being belligerent. He was prickling with irritation because he knew what the right thing to do was. He couldn’t stand the idea of ending things with Cloe, though. He liked what they had. It wasn’t pure selfishness. It was a reciprocal arrangement that…

Fuck. He was rationalizing again.

He didn’t want to hurt Cloe, though. Which he was starting to realize was inevitable, no matter what happened.

“You should feel special.” Cloe was oblivious to the undercurrents. “Every time I’ve heard about day camp, Biyen is talking about how much he loves it. He wouldn’t give it up for just anyone.”

“That’s why I brought instructions for making a papier-maché dinosaur. This is not my first rodeo.” Glenda winked. “I left you a casserole for tonight and picked up some sour cream to have with it. Instructions are on it. I’ll cook at Sophie’s tomorrow so plan to come for dinner.”

“Thanks, Glenda.” But what the hell was he supposed to do? Break things off with Cloe then bring her to a family dinner? Keep having sex with her while Glenda questioned his intentions?

She wouldn’t say anything to anyone. He knew that, but it didn’t change the fact that he and Cloe needed to talk.