CORAL (A Romance Trilogy, Book 1) (38 page)

“You’re prickly like Daddy,” she
says.

Tristan rubs his hand across his
face. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he chuckles as he stands up.

“Come on then darling.” Deb says
holding her hand out, Lily takes it and I silently watch them walk down the
concourse together.

I hear Tristan move to stand
behind me. I feel the warmth of his body heating my skin; it’s a clear
indication of how close he is. I turn around and gaze up into his eyes, he
gazes back at me. I hesitate for a moment feeling torn, I'm still not sure if
I'm capable of anything.

“Well, I guess I better get
going,” he says, looking torn.
No, don’t leave!

“I was thinking about going for a
walk, get some fresh air.” I tell him decision made.

“Yeah...sounds nice.” He says
shyly.

“Care to join me?” I ask.

His amazing deep dimpled smile
appears. “Love to.” I can't help the grin that starts to spread across my face,
giving my feelings away.

We walk back inside the studio,
Tristan closing the door behind him. “I’d like to get cleaned up first though.”
Tristan says.

“Yeah, I could do with a shower
too.” I say. Why am I feeling shy and nervous?

“Can I stay the night?” he asks.
My mouth pops open –
Is he asking what I think he’s asking?
“I’ll take
the sofa,” he clarifies. “I just want to make sure you’re ok,” he says with his
puppy dog eyes that instantly smolder me –
Holy crap!
“And get you to
the doctor’s tomorrow,” he adds.

I don’t even have to think about
it, now he’s here I don’t want him to leave – at all.

“I’d like that.” I whisper.

Tristan grins widely at me,
making my stomach flip over again. “Good. Now stay here, and don’t do anything.
I’m going to dash over to the hotel, grab a change of clothes and then I’ll be
back.”

My face falls and my heart sinks.
Tristan takes the couple of steps needed to be next to me and gently takes hold
of my face between his hands. “Hey, I will come back,” he says running his
thumbs across my cheekbones.

“You will?” I tremble.

“Yes.” He whispers. “Try keeping
me away.” His hands hold my face steady, as his eyes bore into mine.
Is he
going to kiss me?

I surrender and close my eyes. I
feel Tristan gently kiss my cheek, then his hands disappear from my face.
Whoa!
I open my eyes and watch him walk through the patio door, then disappear
from view. I can't help wondering if I actually am still dreaming? My head
feels light and giddy, my cheek is tingling from his kiss, and my stomach is
full of butterflies. But more than that, the strange soul sensation that I’ve
been getting whenever I think of Tristan suddenly feels empty and barren, just
like I have always felt. Strange – I didn’t feel like that when Tristan was
here? It’s like when he’s here he fills me up and the emptiness kind of...disappears,
and when he’s gone...I decide I don't want to dwell on that too deeply.

I look around my studio, this
place looks a mess. I’d better do some cleaning up. Clearing my coffee table, I
throw the leftover pancakes in the bin then I wash and dry up the cups. Picking
up my quilt and pillows I carefully make my way up the stairs, as I’m remaking
my bed with my quilt, I catch my reflection in the mirror. I seriously need
some heavy makeup to hide the bruises.

I quickly strip my clothes off
me, throw them in the wash basket and pull on my robe. I need a shower and a
change of clothes, that’s for sure. I poke around in my closet and find my
chocolate cords, my long sleeved fitted mocha t-shirt, and throw them on the
bed. Heading downstairs, I take a long leisurely shower, tenderly washing my
hair so as not to start the headache off again. I don’t want to rock the boat
as my head seems to be improving.

As I’m rubbing my body with
shower cream, I think about Tristan coming back. I think about us taking a walk
together. I think about him taking my hand in his. I think about his tender
kiss on my cheek. I think about what it felt like when my hand was in his. My
body flutters with excited tingles, literally from head to toe. I giggle and
roll my eyes at myself. Now I’m the one acting like a love-struck teenager, not
Gladys!

I wonder for a moment if that’s
what this is, some silly crush? But if I’m completely honest with myself, I
know it’s not that. After all, I admitted to George that I’m in love with him –
I still can’t work out how that’s possible, but just being near Tristan makes
me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Then I think about what George said to me
about giving it a try, and how I argued with him that I’d self-destruct it,
that all my fears and insecurities would come rushing to the surface, and in
truth I thought they would. I thought my own self- preservation would kick in,
to protect myself from any further pain or hurt, but it feels like all that
worry and anguish literally melts away when I’m with Tristan. He makes me feel
whole, normal...well as normal as I can be.

I AM SAT ON MY BED
slowly
drying my hair. I have showered, creamed my skin, cleaned my teeth (again) put
on my makeup, deodorant and perfume, and dressed ready for the walk. I am almost
feeling human again. I can't help sneaking a peak at the time on my alarm
clock. Tristan’s been gone an hour now. I hope he’s ok? Just as I think that, I
hear the patio door slide open.

“Coral?” I hear the worry in his
voice.

“Up here,” I shout. Tristan darts
up the stairs his eyes searching for me. When he sees me, I can visibly see his
shoulders relax, his eyes melt like butter. I notice his five a clock shadow is
gone and that he’s changed.

He smells fresh, of shower gel
and aftershave, but his own distinct smell is over-powering those, making me
tingle all over again. And he looks good, really good! He’s dressed in a pair
of dark blue jeans that he’s matched with a light beige t-shirt and a zip-up
hoody over the top. He looks...
Irresistible!

Tristan crosses his arms and
frowns down at me. “I thought I said stay put,” he says trying to look crossly
at me. I switch the hairdryer off, I think my hair is dry enough.

I smile sweetly at him and shrug.
“I get bored easily, and I wanted a shower. So that’s what I did after I
cleaned up,” I say pulling on my Echo walking boots. “Besides you changed your
mind didn’t you,” I quarrel.

“I did?” He questions.

“Yes. You said you’d be right
back, yet you showered at the hotel.” I pout.

“Ah yes! I did, guilty as charged,”
he says mockingly.

“What, my tiny bathroom not good
enough for you?” I bite.

“Don’t be daft. By the time I was
there...well I just thought’ – “You thought what?” I interrupt crossing my arms
defensively, mimicking his body language.

“All my gear was already in the
bathroom, it just seemed quicker that’s all. I’m sorry.” He says intently, his
eyes searching mine.

“Don’t do that again, you had me
worried.” I scold.

“I won’t, I promise.”
Ugh I
hate that word.

“I don’t want promises Tristan,
they can be broken. Give me your word.”

Tristan frowns at me. “Alright
you have my word.” He solemnly says. I instantly forgive him and uncross my
arms. Tristan smiles, then comes and sits next to me on the bed. “You look
beautiful,” he softly says. “But you should have waited for me, what if you’d
have hurt yourself or lost your balance?” I gaze up at him and titter.

“Tristan, I’m not made of glass,
besides I’m feeling a lot better that I was earlier.” I tell him, then I look
down and notice he’s wearing Echo boots too. “Snap,” I say putting my left foot
next to his right.

“They’re good boots.” He says
nodding in agreement.

“Indeed they are. Did you want a
drink before we go?” I ask politely.

“Right now I’m good, had a coffee
at the hotel,” he says. “But I thought we could have something while we’re out?”
He adds.

“Like what?” I ask.

Tristan shrugs. “Whatever we feel
like?” I smile back at him. He’s so easy going, I really feel like I can be
myself with him. In that very moment as we silently gaze at one another, I decide
to let him know a little bit more about me.
Bit by bit!

We head downstairs and I place my
shoulder bag over my head. Checking I’ve got my keys, my purse, and some
Nurofen we make our way out.

“So where are we off to?” He
asks.

“Somewhere I’m sure you’ve never
been.” I smile popping the keys in my bag.

“I think I’ve walked on a beach
before.” He drawls sarcastically at me.

“This isn’t a beach walk.” I
retort dryly.

We head north towards The Master
Mariner, as we reach it we turn east onto Undercliff Walk. It’s a beautiful
little gem of a walk, stretching right from the Marina all the way to Saltdean.
As we reach the end of the Marina and carry on walking.

Tristan stops and questions me. “We’re
not going on the beach?” He asks.

“Nah, gets a little crowded when
it’s warm like this.”

“So where does this lead?” He
asks looking a little worried. I chuckle and nudge him. Then I decide I could
give him a little local history, turning around so I'm walking backwards.

I smile at Tristan and begin. “Ok,
so this is called Undercliff Walk, as you can see’ – I say playing air hostess
with my arms to the right – ‘this is the seawall, in the 1930’s the council
decided they needed to do something with the cliff as it was eroding so badly,
so the seawall was built. Of course to my left’ – I fling my arms again like an
air-hostess – ‘you have the sea. It’s so cool to walk along here in the winter,
the waves really come up high and the spray soaks you.” I chuckle.

“That sounds kind of dangerous,”
Tristan says darkly. “You could get washed out to sea,” he adds.

I roll my eyes at him and
continue. “This bright white flat, concrete pathway goes all the way down to
Saltdean, there’s a really cute café at Ovingdean; we can stop there for a
coffee if you want?”

“Sure.” Tristan smiles shyly at
me, places his hands in his pockets and gazes at me in that strange way of his,
like he’s seeing straight through me.

I try to ignore it and continue. “So
when the tide is out a sprawling city of rock pools are revealed, and the
remnants of the old Volks Railway can be seen; it’s tracks used to run through
the sea. The train had spider legs that elongated, they rose up and up; it’s
feet would be in the water and the carriage in the air.”

“What happened to it?” Tristan
asks animatedly.

“I know that a week after opening
in 1896, a huge storm hit, and it collapsed. I remember reading they got it all
up and running again, but it cost the company a lot of money and then I kind of
remember something I learned at school about some groynes being built right
near it and it damaged the track, and that it was too costly to move it all to
another place. It didn’t have electric motors so when the tide was in the whole
thing would grind to a halt.”

I shake my head in laughter. “Can
you imagine being stuck eighty feet in the air with the sea beneath you, and
not being able to get off for hours, because the damn thing won’t move? They
had some crazy ideas back then.” I chuckle, Tristan is gazing at me again.

“What?” I ask shyly.

“You look very beautiful and free
with the wind in your hair, the sun making it shine when it comes out.” I stop
walking. Tristan doesn’t, and as he reaches me he picks me up and swings me around,
making me giggle.

Then placing me back down, he
puts his arm around my shoulders, squeezes me tight and kisses my temple. I
wrap my arm around his waist, and revel in the feel of it. It just feels so
nice not to be walking on my own, and so comfortable with him. The conversation
between us just seems to flow so easily.

We carry on walking and I’m
enthralled as Tristan tells me all about going to University, studying law and
opening up his first company. I tell him about Joyce giving me my first job and
how I liked it so much that I stayed. But as we walk along, I can’t help
noticing the looks we are getting. It’s starting to make me feel
self-conscious.
Maybe a walk wasn’t such a good idea!

Some of the women are really
glaring at me some are looking at me as though they feel sorry for me. And I
can see the men are sizing Tristan up, wondering if he’s the one that’s messed
my face up like this.

“People are staring at us.” I
hiss, feeling utterly incensed they would be thinking that.

“Don’t worry about it.” Tristan
tells me but I can see from his countenance that he’s hiding how uncomfortable
it’s making him feel. As if he would do anything like this to a woman. Those
men, if you can call them that, are weak, soul-less, insecure jerks.

“How long until we get to the
café?” Tristan asks.

“Thirsty?”

“No, just wondering?” He says
casually.

“About another twenty minutes.” I
say looking out to sea.