CORAL - Fallen (A Romance Trilogy, Book 2) (11 page)

“So that’s what pushed you to want to make
money?” I guess.

“Yes, and wanting to take care of my folks
in their old age.” Tristan stares down at his meal for a moment.

“Which you did,” I say proudly.

“Yeah, they were pretty healthy, happy, and
well taken care of. So yeah, I guess I did achieve that goal. But what about
you baby, what was your dream?” I shake my head in response.

“I didn’t have a dream,” I answer my voice
low.

Tristan gazes down at me. “No dream?” He
asks quite astonished.

“No. Why should I have had one?” I say,
frowning back at him.

Tristan chuckles at me. “You’re having me
on,” he says. “Come on Coral, we all dream about being something when we’re
young. Fireman, policeman, nurse… you know all that kind of stuff.” I shake my
head at him and shrug my shoulders –
I honestly don’t see what the big deal
is.

“What was yours?” I ask swallowing and
sipping my wine.

“Well, when I was about four I said Postman
Pat, because he had a car, which I thought was really cool.” I raise my
eyebrows at him. “My folks never had a car,” he clarifies.

“Really?” I say, astonished.

Tristan shakes his head, frowning deeply. “Always
the bus,” he says, a slight edge to his tone.

“I liked Postman Pat too,” I say trying to pull
him out of his reverie.

“When I got a little older and the teachers
asked again, I said ‘a man in a suit’.” He adds.

I chuckle at Tristan. “Why did you say
that?”

“Because when Gran used to take me into
town,
on the bus
, I would watch all these men in suits with nice cars,
going about their business. They had shiny shoes, shiny suits and shiny cars. Whatever
they were doing, I wanted to do it too,” he says firmly. Wow, he was so determined
from such a young age!

“Guess that kind of makes sense, and you
certainly reached your goal,” I take a deep breath. “I know we haven’t known
each other that long Tristan, but I’m really proud of you, of what you’ve
achieved. I imagine it takes a lot of guts and sheer determination to get where
you are today. I hope you feel proud too?”

“I do,” he smiles then leans forward and
kisses me again. “And thank you, it’s nice to know you feel like that,” he says
tenderly stroking my cheek. “But you haven’t answered my question?” he adds. I
go for a change of subject. It’s something I’ve been thinking about since this
morning.

“Can I drive your car tomorrow?” I ask.

Tristan gazes at me in disbelief. “My car?”
he asks swallowing hard.

I don’t think he likes the idea. “Uh-huh,”
I take another forkful of food.

“Yes...yes of course you can. I didn’t know
you wanted to drive it…I…” Tristan narrows his eyes at me. “Nice change of
subject,” he scolds –
Crap!

“I tell you what, you answer my question
and you can drive it anytime you want. In-fact if you like it I can buy’ –
“Stop!” I take a sip of my wine. “You were going to say buy me one, weren’t
you?”

“Yes.” Tristan beams, his eyes sparkling. I
shake my head at him,
not that conversation again!
“So why no dream
Coral?” he repeats.

“I did have a dream,” I answer quietly,
gulping back the rest of my wine. Tristan is watching me, waiting for his
answer –
Crap! I want to drive that car, so I guess I better tell him.

I sigh heavily, close my eyes and pinch the
bridge of my nose. “My dream was to have a loving caring family,” I whisper so
quietly I wonder if he actually heard me. Opening my eyes I see him staring
back at me, his expression torn, he looks nauseous, but now he’s got me going
on the subject, so I feel like I should explain it to him. “They were always
arguing, fighting, there was always something breaking or being smashed. I lost
count of the amount of times I hid under my bed because I was never quite sure
if my Dad would lose it one day and hit me, or Kelly would find me. Or I’d hide
under the duvet with the pillow over my head to try and drown out the noise,
the constant shouting...” I look down and see I’m mimicking my actions, pulling
the duvet over my head. “That was before it got really bad. So when the teacher
asked me, I would always say I wanted to be a roller skater, because it was the
only thing I had that got me out of the house, away from the noise – you
finished?” Tristan nods.

In a huff I pick up our plates and storm
over to the kitchen sink – I hate remembering the past – and blast the water
over the empty plates.

“I’m sorry.” I turn and see Tristan leaning
against the breakfast bar, giving me some distance. He looks awful, like he’s
riddled with guilt for bringing it up.

“Fuck!” I let the cutlery clatter to the
bottom of the sink, walk over to him and wrap my arms around his torso, resting
my head on his chest. “I hate talking about the past,” I croak.

“Yeah, I’ve kind of gathered that,” he says
his arms enveloping me.

“Then why do you keep bringing it up?” I
choke.

“I’m sorry baby, I had no idea you were
going to say that,
at all!
I thought you would say you wanted to be a
princess or a nurse, you know stuff kids say. Really baby, I was not expecting
that.” Tristan rocks me gently, soothing the pain away.

“Christ!” I squeeze my eyes shut trying to
push the demons away that are lurking in the forefront of my mind, just waiting
to come and get me again.

I can't wait for more Hypnotherapy!

“You’re scared?” Tristan guesses.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“What of?” he asks his voice low and husky.

“Let’s just call him the boogie man.” I say
by way of explanation.

“The boogie man?” he says, his voice deep.

“Yeah…nightmares.” I twist my head and lean
my chin against his firm, muscular chest. “Did you really just say I can drive
your car tomorrow?” I ask, beaming up at him.

“You really do jump ship don’t you?” I
frown back at him. “What I mean is you can go from one emotion to another,
instantly; it’s quite fascinating,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Oh well, I’m glad I...fascinate you,” I
answer sulkily.

“Hey now, that’s not how I meant it.” He
says his tone soft.

I pull out of his arms. “I know you didn’t,”
I say, but I still don’t like the fact that he said it. I frown at myself as I
place the plates and cutlery in the dishwasher and switch it on. “Incidentally
how did you get this place so quickly?” I add, trying to change the subject.

“Gave them an offer they couldn’t refuse?”
he answers smugly.

“Which was?” I question.

“Six months worth of rent, so they could
look for another place.”

“You’re kidding?” I choke.

“No.” He looks so proud of himself.

“Do you always get what you want? When you
want it?”

“Yes, well most of the time,” he says,
shrugging his shoulders at me.

“Except me,” I retort.

Tristan’s face falls, his features
grimacing. “I thought’ - “No one ever really owns anyone Tristan, not really.”
I stare back at him feeling pissed and moody and I know exactly why.

I shake my head at myself, feeling guilty I
just said that out-loud. “Tristan, please just ignore what I just said, I’m
feeling a little…off,” I tell him bluntly.

“So the car?” he says a little unwillingly.

“Yeah...the car,” I sigh and walk over to
the kitchen table. “More?” I ask.

“Please.” I pour more wine into both our
glasses and hand one to Tristan. I know I need to make amends, I don’t like
hurting him, and I don’t like feeling like this. I want it to go back to how it
was half an hour ago.

“I am so sorry, that was out of line. When
I get upset or scared about something, I blurt things out I don’t really mean. It’s
something I’m working on it with George. So yes, I would love to drive your car
tomorrow if you don’t mind me taking it for a spin, and no, I didn’t dream like
all the other boys and girls.”

“Apology accepted, not that you need to
apologise,” he says leaning down to kiss me.

“Yes I do,” I murmur against his lips. “I’m
not blind Tristan I could see you were hurt,” I add, swallowing hard.

“Coral, you didn’t hurt
me
, what
upset me was that I knew you were upset. So don’t beat yourself up so much,
everybody says things they don’t mean when they’re scared.” I nod once.
How
can he be so...so forgiving?

“If I put the fire on will you curl up on
the sofa with me?” he asks, stroking my cheek.

“Yes.” I smile gazing up at him. Picking up
our wine glasses, I walk into the living room and as I get myself comfortable
on the over-large, very squidgy sofa, I watch Tristan turn on the fire.

“Hey sexy,” I say handing his wine to him,
as he sits next to me.

“Hey yourself,” he says taking a sip and
gazing adoringly at me. “Your bruises have almost gone,” he says, tracing his
forefinger under my right eye.

“I know, at least I won’t have to cake my
face in tons of make-up on Monday,” I chuckle, thinking back to how dreadful I
must have looked.

“Coral, I want to ask you something?”
Oh
boy here goes!

“Ok,” I sigh.

“If you could go away tomorrow, anywhere in
the world, where would you go?”
That’s easy!

“The Hawaiian Islands,” I answer a little
too eagerly.

“Why?” Tristan asks his head cocked to the
side.

“Are you kidding me, the scenery, the
amazing beaches, need I say more?” I squeak.

Tristan chuckles at me. “Ok, I’ll give you
that, it is beautiful,” he nods in agreement. “But?” he adds.
How does he
know there’s more?

I glance shyly at him. “Tell me,” he
croons.

I take a deep breath. “Ok, I picked Hawaii
because every since I was about eight years old, I’ve wanted to go watch the
big surfing competition they hold there each winter.”

“Why?” I can see Tristan is finding this
quite amusing.

“Ok, don’t laugh at me, but I kind of find
the big waves fascinating, and the mad surfers who ride them even more
fascinating. I mean, who does that? Who risks their life for the ultimate wave?
I know it’s kind of stupid, but it doesn’t mean I'm not in awe when I watch
them on T.V. I’ve always wanted to see it in real life you know, hear the roar
of those gigantic waves, the wind in my face.” I shrug my shoulders and stare
at my glass of wine, Tristan thinks it’s stupid I know he does. “Plus, they
have a really amazing cuisine over there, I’d love to try the food and wine,” I
add.

“They do, do they?” he grins. I nod feeling
excited.
Maybe that can be our first holiday together?

“Yes, they do,” I answer smartly, trying
not to laugh.

“I should have known you’d pick a place
with great food,” he chortles.

“Why would you say that?” I question.

“Because you have a passion for food and
cooking,” he simply says.

“Yeah, I guess I have a thing for it, but
it’s just a hobby.”

“You said you never had a dream when you
were a kid so I’m curious, if you could do or be anything you wanted, wake up
tomorrow and you’re living that life, what would it be?”

“Jesus Tristan I don’t know!” I say,
feeling exasperated. How did this change from places to visit to life affirming
questions?

“Haven’t you ever thought about it?” He
asks his voice low.

“Well...no I haven’t,” I answer wondering
where all this is going.

“Ok, well I want to set you a challenge,”
he tells me.

I shake my head at him. “No, I have enough
of those,” I answer darkly.

“You do?” He says, his head cocked to the
side in amusement.

“Yes, George is forever setting me new
challenges,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Like what?” He asks, evidently intrigued.

“Trust me. You don’t want to know the
answer to that one.” Tristan frowns and is quiet and contemplative for a moment
then continues.

“Ok, well not a challenge, but something
I’d like you to think about.”

“What do you want?” I ask gloomily.

“It’s not bad Coral, relax.” He soothes.

I feel my shoulders come back down from my
ears. I take a deep breath. “Ok, shoot,” I blurt.

Tristan chortles. “Ok, I’d like you to
think about the question I asked. What would you do if you could, no questions
asked and no excuses either? Money doesn’t matter so don’t think about that
part of it.”

“Um, ok, that sounds easy enough,” I answer,
but I’m curious as to why he wants to know, then I realise –
Crap! This has
something to do with my job.

“You...why do you want to know that?” I ask
my voice wobbling slightly.

“This has nothing to do with your job Coral,”
he admonishes in a deep and powerful voice, freakily reading my mind again.
“And I’m not going to keep repeating myself on that one, it’s a given. But I suppose
the question I’m asking is to do with it, and whether you would choose to stay,
or go for a different career?” He looks a little pissed at me.