“Mr. Trishan!” Then Easton barreled into the back of my legs.
“Hey, there, kiddo! What’s up?”
“Nuthin’, ’cept Aunt Stacey Bear is mad at the fucker and I get to stay here tonight.”
“You do?” I did my best to hide the surprised reaction at her use of the word ‘fucker.’ Everyone else was having the same issue.
“Easton Bridges, what did I tell you about using that word?”
“Oops. I’m not sposed to.”
“So why did you do it then?”
“Cuz I wanted to tell Mr. Trishan what was going on.”
“When he asks you that, talk about school or things going on with you, not Aunt Stacey Bear.”
“Okayyyy. Mommy, can I please have some cheese?”
“Yes, you may.”
Rey ran into the room. “Sorry, she escaped.”
“Rey, my daughter isn’t in prison.” English shook her head.
“I know, but we were playing and my phone rang. When I turned around, she was gone.”
“She’s sneaky like that.” English handed Easton her cheese, and told her, “Don’t leave Rey again, you goofball.”
“I’m not a goofball. I’m a princess today. See?” Easton patted her tiara.
Rey huffed. “What am I going to do with you? You need to put on some soccer cleats so we can kick the soccer ball around in the back yard.”
“I don’t wanna. I wanna play princess. Can you dress up like me?”
Rey glanced at English. “I have a lot of work to do here.”
“Good luck with that.”
Rey took Easton’s hand and off they went.
Sheridan said, “Rey will do her best to convert your daughter into a tomboy.”
“I doubt that’ll happen. Easton is too girly right now. I wish she liked playing sports more, though.”
“She does. She tells me how much she likes soccer. Remember though, they were never your thing.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me, Mom.”
While they discussed the merits of soccer versus being a princess, I took my chance at broaching what I wanted to say to Beck.
But when I did, two things happened. The women took a break in their conversation and Beck decided to say something to me just as I was ready to ask him something.
I nearly choked on the swallow of beer as he said, “I’d like to talk about you marrying my daughter.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
English
Twenty-four hours earlier
Dinner on Friday with Tristian was superb. He was engaging and congenial. I’d expected it, but was more pleased than I cared to admit. The food was exquisite but didn’t compare to the man himself. Why did I have to succumb to his charm? In many ways, it was better when he was an ass. At least it made it easy to dislike him. When he was pleasant and appealing, it was impossible to ignore him.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he’d said in the car on the way to dinner. It sent shivers skipping over my flesh and my heart did a little dance beneath my ribs. Jeez, if words did this, what would his touch do? I’d already experienced his artful kiss. I dared not imagine what the rest of his body had in store.
“Thank you. I have a confession. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.” And why in the world had my big mouth even mentioned that?
“You must be joking.”
“I’m not.”
“I really find that hard to believe.”
“Why’s that?” I turned my curious eyes toward him.
“The truth?”
“No, Tristian, I want you to lie to me.” I poked him in the ribs. “Yes, I want the truth.”
“Because you’re beautiful and any man would give his left arm to take you out.”
“Would you stop?”
“I swear it’s the truth. If I weren’t driving, I’d prove it to you.”
“How?” Would he kiss me again?
“I’d look you straight in the eyes and you’d be able to tell I wasn’t lying.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed.”
Embarrassment wrapped itself around me in the form of a hot oven. My face must’ve appeared sunburned. “I’m not. It wasn’t what I expected you to say.”
“What did you expect me to say?”
I couldn’t very well tell him what I was thinking, so I answered with a lame, “Not really sure. But something with a little more snark.”
“Nope. I left all my snark at home.”
By then we pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and he went directly to valet parking. The door was opened by an attendant and I got out and waited for Tristian. We entered and were quickly escorted to our table.
“I’ve wanted to eat here forever. My parents love this place.”
“Then I’m happy I chose it.”
During dinner our conversation ranged from photography—of course—to where we’d traveled. He had a keen desire to see the world, as did I, and he was interested in photography of animals, like my father.
“I remember as a little kid when Dad went off to do a polar bear shoot. Mom tried to explain that they weren’t all fuzzy and cute. I wouldn’t hear of it. Now I know how dangerous and freezing it was.”
“I’d love to go out there and do a shoot like that.”
“He took me once when I was older, a teenager. We sat in the cold for a week, waiting for them to show up. They finally did, but I froze my ass off.”
His mouth curved up as he said, “I sure can’t tell by the looks of you.”
I was confused momentarily, until it smacked me in the head. “Haha, funny.”
When he took me home, I expected him to come inside. We’d had such a great evening, I didn’t want it to end, but unfortunately, he was too much of a gentleman. After walking me to the door, he waited for me to unlock it, then kissed my cheek and left. I’d never been so disappointed in my life. Only the thought of dinner tomorrow night made my spirits lift.
But on Saturday my crazy-as-hell dad ruined everything. What was going on in his head? When did the father ask the guy to marry his daughter in the twenty-first century? This was bumfuck insane.
“Dad! What did you just say?” I shouted.
“Beck! I thought we were both going to talk to Tristian privately.”
“Mom! Are you in this too?” I was furious. My mom, who had always backed me up in everything, was obviously a part of this insane scheme.
Then all eyes turned toward Tristian as he stood there looking gobsmacked. It could not have been worse. How had this all gone so wrong?
“Tristian, I’m so sorry my parents have both lost their minds. Maybe we should leave and start this evening all over.”
“Um, er, actually, English, I was going to talk to your father tonight about something.”
I did not care for the sound of his tone. “Oh? About what?” He shuffled his feet, unsure of things. “Spit it out. It can’t possibly be as bad as what Dad said.”
“It was on that same subject. I was going to ask him about marrying you.”