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

Chapter Twenty

Look who finally has a phone! Sophie dropped the message into the family text chain a week later, while Trystan was still in Vancouver.

A series of photos followed. Cloe with a man who was an older, masculine version of her. His hair was iron gray at his temples, his smile the same wide arc of beautiful white teeth against skin that was a darker brown than hers.

Then came Cloe with a young man who looked like their father. His hair was in twists. He had his arm around Cloe and he was playfully hanging his tongue out.

The last one showed her standing back-to-back with a woman whose profile was uncannily like her own. The other woman wore her hair long and straight, but her height and figure were almost identical to Cloe’s.

Cloe:

Can you tell which one of us is which?

Emma:

Someone misses you

Emma dropped in a photo of Storm standing at her crib rail wearing a grumpy expression.

Trystan copied Cloe’s number into his contacts, then sent her a private text.

You look happy. All good?

Cloe:

Really good. I have a job.

Cloe moved back to the family chain to expound on that. It was reception at a hair salon, but she made a commission off the sale of products and they did a brisk business. She thanked Logan for the contact because the salon was owned by the wife of one of his former clients.

Sophie:

I just told Logan I’ll come with him when he flies down to get his sailboat after Xmas. We’ll come see you.

Logan:

Like I didn’t ask her ten times already if she wanted to come. For YOU she says yes.

Cloe:

Awesome! With Biyen?

Sophie:

That wasn’t the plan, but maybe?

Trystan was instantly jealous of all of them. Sick with envy.

“Trystan? Ari can see you now.”

He clicked off his phone and walked down to his agent’s office.

Things were falling into place with his pitch. If this latest round of calls went well, he’d be off to the Arctic Circle in a week. Thankfully, all the research had been done before he had cut things short this spring. Everyone seemed to agree the threat of approaching winter added sufficient drama to make the show interesting.

He only needed to get into the bush for five or six weeks to get enough footage in the can. Then he would need another few months of post-production, but he could do a lot of that remotely.

Say, from Florida.

I won’t wait for you…

Wait , he silently pleaded. Wait a little .

*

Cloe was off her crutches, but still limped to keep some weight off her foot. It had been a full month since she had injured it. Her ankle was mostly healed, but it got tender by the end of the day, since she walked around so much, assisting customers.

The salon was a lively place. The back was a house of mirrors, with a dozen chairs for hair, plus another dozen mani-pedi stations around the perimeter. The music was always blasting a lively hip-hop over the buzz of conversation and bursts of laughter. Chemical smells hung in the air, the phone rang constantly, and customers came and went all day, causing the door to ping each time.

The front was a shop of shelved products artfully arranged on the walls, in the window, and on circular tables in the middle of the room. Cloe always had at least one other receptionist working with her and rarely had a chance to sit down.

She didn’t mind, though. Everyone was nice and funny, and staying busy kept her from missing Storm too badly.

And from missing Trystan.

“This is the natural beeswax,” Cloe said as she offered the tub to the customer she was helping. “Are you at all interested in colored waxes? This is the blue that Ebony put in my hair yesterday.” She pointed to the product.

The customer’s gaze lifted to study the well-defined curls at the top of Cloe’s fresh taper cut. Ebony hadn’t charged her, provided Cloe let her express herself when she had shaved a flowing design into the sides. Cloe loved it so it was a win-win.

“Maybe I’ll take both, see which one I like better.”

“Great.” Cloe started making her way back to the counter only to realize a man was waiting there, watching her approach.

She almost dropped what she was holding. A sensation like a firework shooting skyward zipped through her, leaving her breathless.

“Oh my God. Trystan.”

“Hi, Cloe.” He looked exactly like himself in a black T-shirt and jeans, jaw freshly shaved, sunglasses hooked in his collar. How was that so incredibly, effortlessly sexy?

“I got this, babe,” her coworker said with a cheeky wink as she took the products from Cloe’s limp hands. “You go talk to Oh my God Trystan.”

Cloe limped a few steps toward the chairs in the waiting area, but a pair of teenagers were already sitting there, both watching them with curiosity. Anyone who could see them was clocking them, wondering who this god of a man was.

“Why didn’t you text me that you were coming? How did you even know where I work?” she asked.

“You had Tiffany’s things delivered here. And I…” He winced slightly. “I didn’t want you to tell me not to bother coming. Are you seeing anyone?” He seemed to brace himself.

“No.” It came out as a breath of both surprise and disbelief. She could barely see men as men. They were immediately overshadowed by her memories of him.

“Would you like to have dinner tonight? What time are you finished work? I can come back and get you.”

“That’s that guy from that show,” one of the teenagers said. “The one my dad watches.”

“Sure, um…” Cloe tried to focus on Trystan and not how people were reacting to him. “I finish at five, but—” She couldn’t wait another two hours to find out what he was doing here. “Aren’t you supposed to be filming?” There’d been a whole text chain wishing him well before he went off-grid. “Why are you here?”

His mouth opened. Nothing came out until he said on a gust of emotion, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Oh?” She had hoped he was here to see her. To say something like, Be with me . She didn’t know what she wanted him to say. Well, yes, she did. Tell me you love me . But that’s not what he’d said, and her skin was itching because none of this made sense.

“I should be filming, yes.” He gave the back of his head a self-conscious scratch. “I was in Juno. Everything was in place to drop me inside the Arctic Circle, but I couldn’t get on the plane. I just couldn’t.” He swore, then made a face as his gaze tracked to the rapt teenagers. “I’m crew not cargo, Cloe. I don’t ask anyone to carry me. People need me , but I don’t need them. That’s how it’s always been. That’s the way I like it. It makes me feel good,” he added in a voice that edged toward bashful. He folded his arms, defensive. “But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be alone up there for weeks, unable to even text you. So I walked away. Again.”

“Oh, Trystan.” She stacked her hands over the spot where her heart took such a swoop, she thought it might have actually turned upside down in her chest.

“They wanted me to do a bunch of stupid shit anyway and I was going to do it for the money, but screw it . I can make money other ways. I can shill outdoor equipment. I can work at Raven’s Cove. I can work for my brothers. I can make a documentary about what you said that time. How nature survives man. I actually really like that idea. I was thinking about it the whole way here.”

“Really?” A slow, trembling smile tugged at her lips.

“Yeah. There’s a ton of research I’d need to do first, but the point is, I can do a lot of things, Cloe. I built my way to the top once. I can do it again. It’s just a matter of focus and time. I thought I had to wait until I was back on top before I came after you, but I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to miss you. I love you.”

“You do?” Her heart was definitely doing somersaults in her chest. She swallowed the lump that was rising in her throat.

“So much. And I think you love me, too. Or you’re getting there?” He took her hands and dipped his head to look into her eyes.

Eyes that were misting with emotion.

“So much.” She nodded. Her lips were trembling too much to hold her smile. All of her was starting to shake.

“So, let’s make being together the important thing and figure out the rest as we go.”

“Be together where?”

“Here?” He shrugged. “We have to go home for the wedding, but you need time to get to know your family. I’d like to get to know them, too. Let’s live here until we decide we want something else.”

“You’re really prepared to live in one of the biggest cities in the world?” she asked skeptically. “For me?”

“They have nature parks here. And yes. I genuinely don’t care how I make a living or where I live as long as I’m with you. I kept trying to find the shortest distance to making a life worth offering to you, then realized I should ask you what kind of life you want. And build it with you. I’m guessing it’s a lot like what I want so let’s get started making it happen.”

“Marriage?” she suggested, quickly adding, “I mean, that’s probably what I’ll want, eventually. And kids.”

“Both of those are on the table. The sooner the better, in my opinion.”

“’Scuse me,” the owner of the shop, Latrice, said. “Are you proposing to my girl here in the middle of my shop floor? Please tell me someone is filming this?” She looked to the teenagers.

“Please don’t film it,” Cloe said sharply. “That could be dangerous for me.”

“Honestly, I came in hoping she’d agree to go for dinner,” Trystan confided to Latrice. “I don’t have a ring on me so the proposal will have to wait.”

“I don’t need a ring,” Cloe assured him. “I just need you.” She stepped into his arms.

He caught her close, warm and steady, exactly as she had expected. And when his mouth covered hers, it was hot and hungry, but sweet. So tender and loving, her lashes grew wet.

A cheer went up around them.

*

They arrived in Raven’s Cove the night before Logan and Sophie’s wedding. Everyone got a tiny bit more drunk than they should have. It was Glenda’s fault. She volunteered to watch the kids so they could all go to the pub. Also, along with a bachelor and bachelorette party, it was an engagement party.

Cloe had insisted she didn’t need the piece of paper or the ring, but it was important to Trystan that they have both. It didn’t bother him that his mother hadn’t been married to his father, but he wanted Cloe to know that he intended to have one woman in his life, and she was that woman.

Also, he had a cousin who was both a Native artist and a goldsmith. Cloe’s ring was engraved with a depiction of a hummingbird—a living rainbow that signifies love and healing. It had a small diamond for its eye and she adored it. Their wedding bands were on order and would depict orcas for longevity and family.

Logan shredded Trystan without mercy for not having a “real job,” even though Trystan put up a video every week on his channel, reviewing some piece of equipment or other. Never Alone was officially canceled, but the special with Storm had been a huge hit. Between both of those things, Trystan had enough income that he leased them a two-bedroom apartment not far from her father’s house.

Trystan worked from home all day, planning his docuseries while Cloe continued at the salon. She was also learning to use a camera, had set up his budget, and was planning to go with him when he began filming.

Trystan had the sense to herd the bunch of them home from the pub before they were all legless. Cloe slept with him in his old bedroom, which he found highly titillating. What was it about having to stay quiet that turned them on so hard?

When Storm woke them at six, he pulled on his boxers and walked through the bathroom to get her from her room. She had seen them both last night and had only played strange for a few minutes before she was back to proving Trystan was, in fact, her favorite.

He brought her into bed with them where she began crawling all over them, but she was walking now—running actually—so she refused to be corralled for long.

Logan and Sophie’s wedding was held in the community hall near Fabiana’s. Sophie wore a tea-length white dress with half sleeves. For once, her copper curls were loose, and she even dusted a bit of makeup across her eyes and lips. She was positively glowing with joy.

Cloe had the delightful duty of bringing the flower girl down the aisle and holding her while the bride and groom spoke their vows. Reid and Trystan stood up for Logan. Emma was maid of honor. Biyen escorted his mother down the aisle, red-faced in his tuxedo and grinning ear to ear.

Everyone cried, especially Glenda.

“I think we should start planning to move back to Canada,” Cloe told Trystan as they were dancing at the reception, which was held at the pub.

“Yeah?” He drew back a little so he could see her face.

“Not tomorrow, but maybe in the new year? You’ve been away a lot over the years. Your family needs to see you as much as mine does. Also, you could document the handover of the resort.” The men were already talking about how much progress had been made on that.

“What would you do?”

“For work? I think I can do bookkeeping remotely. I’ve been helping some of the stylists and estheticians. Lots of them prefer to do it themselves, but some hate running their business. They just want to do hair and go home. Each one only needs an hour or two of support a week, but if I found more clients like that, it could be something I could do from pretty much anywhere.”

He nodded thoughtfully, but said, “Don’t take on too many. I want you to work and travel with me when I’m ready to start the doc.”

“I know.”

“We’ll probably wind up in Vancouver, since that’s where these dingdongs will be.” He threw that at Sophie as she swirled by in Reid’s smooth waltz.

“ You’re a dingdong,” Sophie said.

She and Logan were on the hunt for her replacement here at the marina and she had headhunters looking for the right position either in Vancouver or one of the big ports on Vancouver Island. Reid and Emma were looking at houses in the city, and Emma wanted to certify as an early childhood educator.

Things were still very much in the air with all of them. Even Biyen was in flux as he debated whether to try homeschooling so he could go with Logan and Sophie in the spring, when they brought Logan’s sailboat through the Panama Canal.

“I’d like to be able to visit here, though,” Cloe said, meaning Raven’s Cove. “Wouldn’t you?”

“We’re keeping the house for Storm. Logan wants to rebuild Sophie’s place, so I think they’ll hang on to that, too.”

“Do you want a house here?”

“I don’t need one. This whole place is my home.”

“His living standards are abysmally low, Cloe,” Logan said, making her realize he was dancing with Glenda right behind them. “We’ll always have a bed for you.”

“Logan’s not afraid to kick his stepson out of his bed and give it to someone else,” Emma said, doing a side-step with Biyen.

“It’s true,” Biyen said, watching his feet. “Usually, I sleep with Mom if someone needs my bed, but how’s that going to work now?” He stopped dancing to look at Logan.

“So it’s all settled,” Trystan said drily, dancing Cloe away from the lighthearted argument about who would sleep on the sofa.

“Clear as mud. Exactly the way we like it,” she agreed.

“Sometimes I think I’m very lucky that I found you, but other times I think we were meant to happen,” Trystan said. “Do you ever believe that?”

They had moved closer to one of the windows that looked out on the water where the sky was turning pink with the evening sunset. Something black swooped past the glass. The raven tilted this way and that, then perched on a post that supported the rail on the patio below.

It was probably looking for dropped food. There was nothing otherworldly about its arrival, but Cloe still thought, Hi, Tiff .

“I do believe we were brought together by forces beyond us.”

“Storm,” he said wryly, pulling her into leaning on his wonderfully strong frame.

“That, too. I still feel lucky that we love each other. That it’s so easy to love you.”

“You, too,” he said, giving her the tender look that always melted her into a puddle. “I love the hell out of you. I’m glad I’m going to spend all my life with you.”

“Me, too.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.