Forbidden Bride - Penny Wylder Page 0,6
to the point where it borders on being a savory flavor. The third one I think is the closest to where I want it to be, and probably what I’ll move forward with in my experimentation.
It’s the fourth variation—the new one—where disaster strikes. “I just finished with this formula,” I tell the group. “So it will not have had time to chill all the way down. For that reason, it will be a little more liquid than the rest of the samples. I apologize for that.” No one seems too bothered.
After distributing to the testers, I grab some for the rest of us. This whole time I’ve only been able to hold on to my feelings by not making eye contact with Tristan, and I continue to do that as I hand him one of the little paper cups after I’ve given Dad his.
But Tristan’s hand folds over mine as I hand it to him, and he steps closer so that I’m the only one who can hear. “The last time I saw you you were wearing an equally beautiful dress,” he whispers. “And I vividly remember that there was nothing underneath it.”
All the blood rushes to my face at once, and I take a step back, unintentionally ripping my hand from his. Ice cream mixture goes flying, and lands right on my dress. Fuck. “Oh dear,” I say, pulling away and still not meeting his eyes. I’m not going to admit why I’m so flustered. I guess I don’t have to ask him whether or not he remembers that night. I know that I’ll never forget it.
“I should get this out,” I direct the statement to my father. “I don’t want this to stain.”
He nods. “We’re nearly done. I’ll make sure a copy of the data goes on your desk.”
“Thanks.” I escape the room without looking back. Because if I look back at Tristan I’m going to want to stay and ask him why he brought it up. Ask him why he’s back? And why he’s looking at me like that when the last thing I remember him doing was telling me that we couldn’t be together and then disappearing for four years.
Thankfully I can get the custard out of my dress without too much trouble. I like this dress, and I wasn’t expecting it to be the victim of ice cream today.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I take a deep breath. No matter what my body and mind tell me, no matter that every cell in my being wants to grab onto Tristan and never let go, I’m not the same girl that I was four years ago. And I don’t know why he’s here. He left.
He left. Not just me but everyone. It still stings.
Not to mention that this isn’t like we’re hanging out casually, this is my job. I love it. And even if I didn’t, Dad is my boss. He’s going to be watching to see how Tristan does, and be around more because Tristan is his best friend. What happens if I let myself pursue Tristan and he notices? That’s the only part of the plan that I never figured out when I told Tristan how I felt. And I never made myself figure it out, because I had no idea if I’d ever see him again.
Dad could fire me. Or fire Tristan. Possibly cut him off, which would be painful for both of them.
Fuck.
Honestly, it doesn’t matter how I feel now or how I felt then. Things today are just so much more complicated than they were before he left. I have to resist it. I can’t let him get too close to me, not until I know why he’s here and how everything’s going to play out. I’m strong enough. I have to be.
Taking a deep breath, I push out of the bathroom door and immediately trip. The door collides with a body and I’m falling until I’m not. Strong arms are around my waist, and I’m saved by the very man I just said I had to resist. Being held tight against his body isn’t doing anything for my resolve, and our faces are so close I can almost taste our kiss—I’ve never forgotten it.
“The focus group is over,” he says, smirking. “Your dad sent me to find you so that you could show me around to my new office.”
That confident smile, and the way his fingers grip me just a little tighter, have my stomach doing flips and drawing