Complicated Relationships (The Southern Devotion Series Book 3) (5 page)

Chapter Nine

Knight in Shining Armor

At work tonight, I perused the room hoping to spot Lanie. She hadn’t been back in since the second time I canceled our date. She probably found a new hangout where she’s now telling the bartender about her bad experience with guys this year including me. It made me sad to think of her telling another man her stories.

A hand pressed against my arm causing me to turn around. “Looking for someone?” Mary Jane asked with a smile.

“Hey beautiful,” I beamed before giving her a friendly kiss on the cheek.

“I need some T and Macy time. Can we schedule a day together? Just the three of us like old times?” 

“Yeah, I’d love that and I know Macy has missed you like crazy! How’re you feeling?” I asked as I noticed her rub her slightly extended belly.

“Not bad. The morning sickness is better this time than it was with Addison.”  Mary Jane was a surrogate that carried our friend Cameron and Gavin’s daughter Addison. They were having trouble adopting due to the fact they are a same-sex couple, and their marriage is currently unrecognized in our state. Mary Jane stepped up and offered herself. It’s one of the reasons I fell for her.

This pregnancy was for her child with Derrick, her new husband. “When do you find out what you’re having?”

She grinned, “In another month. I can’t wait, but I think Katelyn is more excited than anyone. Now enough about me, who were you looking for?”

It was apparent I didn’t do enough to avoid the topic. “A girl I met in here a few weeks ago. We’ve tried to go out a couple of times, and I had to cancel both times. I think she’s given up on me.” 

Mary Jane frowned, “I can tell you’re disappointed. Why did you cancel?”

“I had to fill in for Marcus when he had food poisoning the first time. The second time Macy was sick.” I couldn’t tell her about Angel, or I’d be breaking my promise.

“You could’ve called me to take care of Macy.”

With one eyebrow raised I said, “You’re pregnant, MJ. I wouldn’t take a chance of you getting sick too.” 

“Got it. So tell me all about her,” she urged leaning into the bar for support.

“I will but right now I have to work, my bosses are real hard asses.” I gave her a wink because my bosses consist of her husband and brother-in-law, and they were two of the nicest guys you’d ever know.

“OK. But you owe me a scoop. See you later. Love you, T.” 

“Me too, MJ.” It’s not unusual for us to say the I love you’s, but I stopped saying the actual words when my feelings grew stronger for her. Now I respond ‘me too’ or ‘ditto’ like Patrick Swayze in
Ghost
.

As soon as MJ walked away I spotted Lanie on the dance floor with a guy. My stomach clenched with jealousy. I had to remind myself that she can see anyone she likes whether I like it or not. Her eyes met mine, and she smiled before turning and motioning to the guy that she was thirsty. He stayed on the dance floor, moving on to the next girl he found.

“Hey Tristan, can I get a bottle of beer?”

Grabbing her favorite cold beer out of the cooler, I popped the top and handed it to her. “Can we try that date thing one more time?”

She sighed after swallowing her first sip. “Maybe we should give up on that idea.”

“You’re not interested anymore?”

“It’s not that. It doesn’t seem to work in our favor.”

“One second, let me take these orders and I’ll be back.” 

I filled a few orders and then strolled back to Lanie when I'm stopped mid-way by Bailey, the gymnast. “Hey sexy!” she yelled across the bar at me as she leaned down to place her full cleavage on the bar top.

“What’s up, Bailey?”

“I was wondering if I could show you more of my moves again at your place? The other night you only saw a third of them.”

Lanie’s head whipped around, and her mouth fell open just before the tears filled her eyes. She threw a ten dollar bill on the bar and mumbled, “Keep the change, asshole.”   

Yelling after her was pointless. “Bailey, it was fun, but I’m interested in someone else right now.”  Marcus stood behind me; I grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled him around. “Watch the bar, I’ll be back. Keep Bailey entertained. She’s a gymnast.” Marcus’ ears perked up at that, and the flirting began. At the door, I pulled the bouncer aside, “Bobby, did you see that pretty auburn haired girl come out here?” Bobby pointed over to the parking lot where I saw Lanie walking to her car.

A male figure stepped out from behind the car next to her, grabbed her purse and began to struggle with her. He shoved her to the ground and took off running. She seemed to be fine but shaken up. “Bobby, get her inside!” Adrenaline kicked in, and I took off after the thief. Lanie screamed my name from behind me.

It was a teenager who weighed probably one hundred pounds soaking wet. He ran fast, but I caught up with him thanks to my long legs. We had struggled before he pulled a knife on me. I had him cornered, and he fought back slicing open my palm. “Shit!" I cried out. Lunging one more time, I pinned him against the wall and grabbed the purse from him before he slipped out of my grip running back down the alley. Back in the parking lot, Bobby comforted a worried Lanie. She ran towards me once I was close again.

“You’re bleeding!” She grabbed for my hand, and I yelped in pain. “Sorry,” she gasped letting go again. “Need me to call 911?”

I shook my head, “No. I’m going to head out for the night though and get this checked out. Here’s your purse.” With my non-injured hand, I returned her wristlet to her.

“I don’t care about the purse, Tristan.”

“Well, that sucks then since I put myself in danger to retrieve it.” 

“That’s not what I mean. You could’ve died! I’m driving you to the hospital. Bobby can you tell his boss?” 

Bobby nodded, “Sure thing, ma’am.”

The ride to the hospital flowed with awkward silence. It drove me nuts that she was angry with me. “When Bailey said the other night, that wasn’t literal.” Lanie stared ahead without blinking. “We had a one-night stand weeks ago. It was the first night I met you.”  Her hands clench the wheel tighter. “Damn, that doesn’t sound good. What I meant is, it was before you and I ever even talked about going out.”

“You have nothing to explain to me, Tristan.” Putting the car into park, she hid her purse under the front seat and helped me out by opening my door. "I have no delusional fantasies of a fairy tale relationship. It's not as though I thought you'd see me and swear off all other women."

"What if I want to be that guy?"

Lanie rolled her eyes and gave a loud sigh as she held the entrance door for me. "Cut the cheesy lines, T. Let's stay in reality."  She acted angry and aloof when I knew that she was hurt and putting up her defensive walls. I'd prove to her that I'm not like those other jerks no matter how long it took.

The lady at the registration desk kindly informed us the wait time was an hour before handing me a clipboard with several sheets of paper and a pen. “You can go home. I’ll call someone to pick me up," I told her.

Lanie looked appalled at the mere suggestion of leaving. “You risked your life to save my purse; the least I can do is wait to make sure there's no permanent damage to your hand." The paperwork took me a few minutes to fill out. They wanted to know everything about my medical history along with the paperwork for the privacy of health information. I felt like I needed treatment for carpal tunnel once I finished. It was lucky the guy sliced open my right hand and that I'm left handed. Lanie offered to turn the paperwork in for me along with my insurance card, but I felt as though I'd asked too much of her already.

When I sat back down the silent treatment continued for a moment.  I knew I didn’t owe her an explanation for sleeping with Bailey, but I wanted her to know that I didn’t lie to her or stand her up so I could have sex with someone else.  “I told her I’m interested in someone else. Before I came after you, I introduced her to my friend Marcus.”

Lanie ignored me still, picking up a fashion magazine as she flipped through the pages. Gently I took it from her. “Give me a chance, Lanie. I’ll prove that I’m not like the others. I promise.” 

The anger in her expression softened as I hit the nail on the head as to what was wrong. She had been hurt too many times before, so much that she began to lose trust in all men. It’s now my goal to change that for her.

“You can’t promise me that yet, Tristan. Let’s start over.” She turned away and grabbed the magazine again. After a moment, she looked up in surprise and said, “Oh no, How'd you hurt your hand?” For a brief second, I thought she was schizophrenic until she said, “I’m Lanie, you are?” 

“Tristan. I helped a damsel in distress, and this is what happened.”

She hissed slightly, “The knight and shining armor gig isn’t all it’s cracked up to be is it? I’m sure she was grateful.” 

Tristan grinned, “I hope so. I’d do it again if I had to.” 

Her tone grew very serious as she said, “Thank you, Tristan. From the bottom of my heart.”

The nurse stepped into the waiting room at that moment and called my name, “Tristan Jacobs?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lanie stayed in the waiting room while I took a long hallway to a white room. I propped myself up on the plush table with a lovely paper sheet draped across it. The nurse asked me a barrage of questions that seemed to not pertain to anything as far as my hand, but I knew it was routine to get a medical history first. “Let’s take a look at that hand.” She unwrapped the bar towel I used to staunch the blood. “This will sting a bit,” she said before using alcohol soaked gauze to clean the blood away. I hissed in pain and ground my teeth trying to maintain my manhood when I’d like to curl up into a ball and cry with a teddy bear like a small child. I may be a wuss on the inside, but no one will ever see me show it. “How did you do this?” she asked, covering the wound with a clean piece of gauze.

“Chased a mugger, got the purse back but not before he tried to stab me.” 

“Well, you’re lucky that it looks pretty superficial. I’m not even sure stitches are necessary. Hang tight, the doctor will be in momentarily and will let you know for sure.” The final diagnosis said that the wound was superficial. He used glue to seal it instead of stitches, and then bandaged it with gauze, gave me a tetanus shot, and sent me on my way. Lanie sat in the waiting room reading a magazine peacefully waiting for my return.

For a brief second, I stood and took in her appearance. She’s easily one of the most beautiful women I’ve seen in a long time. She had a cute habit of twirling her hair around her finger as she read. Her nose crinkled in disgust as she must have read something weird; it made me chuckle which got her attention.

She closed the magazine and said, “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Yep, superficial cut, no stitches needed. Some hero I am.”

She reached for my hand, brought it to her mouth and kissed it gently. “You’re still my hero. What about now for a date? Any last minute cancelation reasons?” she asked with a wink.

“Nope. I texted my boss; they’ve covered me for the night. Where can we get dinner this late?” Things were looking up for sure now. We chose one of the popular late night eating spots in Nashville, Waffle House. There’s one every few miles and they’re open 24/7; it’s the drunk twenty-something survival restaurant. My text alert went off as soon as we sat down. Lanie looked apprehensive that I was about to bail again.

“It’s my sister, Macy. My roommate apparently went to see her and let her know about my hand but that I’m fine. I’m staying, don’t worry.”

Her shoulders deflated as the worry eased off. Once the conversation got going, we lost all track of time. We weren’t aware that we talked the night away until she gasped and said, “The sun’s coming up.”

Running up to the counter, I handed the woman more than enough money and told her to keep the change. I grabbed Lanie’s hand and led her outside. “Where are we going?” she asked as I pulled her across the street. There was a small hilltop that we ran up. We sat on the grass and watched the sunrise paint the sky in front of us.

Being smooth, I stretched before dropping an arm around her shoulders. “Nice move,” she quipped. The later it got, the sadder I became for the night to come to an end. Walking back to her car, I knew I needed to make my move. She paused with the door open, then turned around. “Do I need to take you to your car at the club?”

“No,” was all I said before I placed my hands on either side of her face, leaned in, and captured her lips with mine. She closed her eyes and released a soft whimper as I deepened the kiss. Her hands moved around my waist, sliding up my back. If she’d been any other girl, I’d try to have her come back to my bed. This one was special though, and I wanted everything to be exceptional for her. I wouldn’t ruin this again.

She pulled away from me. “I'm not a prude, but I don’t want to be a one-night stand anymore, Tristan,” she said softly, sadly.

Caressing her face with my palm, I tenderly said, “I don’t want that either. As much as I want you right now, I want to take things slow.” The happiness returned to her face; I was beginning to gain her trust.