CORAL - Fallen (A Romance Trilogy, Book 2) (49 page)

“
My
breakfast?
”
I
question.

“
Oh, I already ate
,”
he tells me jumping up from the bed
.
How can he have so much energy?
We were both pretty slurry
when we climbed into bed this morning.

Glaring grumpily back at him, I huff
loudly, pick up my veggie juice and stomp into the bathroom...

AFTER DRESSING IN
my
jeans, t-shirt and trainers at Tristan’
s request,
I make my way down the stairs. The moment I reach the top step of
the first flight of stairs, I’
m hit with the
smell of smoked salmon and eggs.
Hmmm,
my stomach rumbles
loudly in appreciation.

As I skip into the kitchen, I see Tristan
whisking something at the counter. “
Just in time
,”
he says
. “
Take a seat
,”
he
tells me so I do.

Picking up my orange juice, I take several
gulps.
Mmm…it’
s so refreshing.

“
Close your eyes
,”
he requests politely, so I do,
I hear him place something in front of me, it smells divine. “
Open your eyes
,”
he whispers.

I look down and see Tristan has made Eggs
Florentine on a bed of spinach with smoked salmon, all neatly stacked on a
toasted muffin. I gaze up at him.

“
You made this?
”
I ask in astonishment –
I think Tristan should be the chef!

“
Gran taught me
,”
he says
shrugging
his shoulders. “
Come on, eat up
,”
he tells me.

I pick up my knife and fork and cut through
it, taking a bite I moan dreamily.

“
Perfect
,”
I say sweetly, b
ecause
it is, just like Tristan, just like his proposal, just like last night’
s
love making. My pelvic muscles contract
just thinking about it. It wasn’
t perfect, it was damn-hot-sexy-sex,
not love making.
I pick up my orange juice and take
several swigs, trying not to picture what we got up to, clearing my throat and
taking a deep breath, I smile sweetly at Tristan, quiet my mind and tuck into
breakfast.

“
I could get used
to this
,”
I say feeling a
tradition in the making, Tristan making breakfast, me cooking our evening meal.

“
Me making you bre
akfast?”
he
questions,
laughing lightly.

“
Yeah,
”
I chuckle
. “
I think that
’
s fair,
especially if I
’
m cooking on an
evening.
”

Tristan seems deep in thought. “
I could get someone in to cook and clean for us
,”
he says.

I can't help smiling.

“
What?
”
he chuckl
es.

“
Nothing
,”
I laugh.

“
Tell me
,”
he pleads.

“
It
’
s just..
.I never
imagined myself with someone’ – “
With money?
”
he questions, interrupting me.

I nod feeling shy. “I just think it’
s going to feel weird you know…having
people
to do stuff for you,” I say.

“Well I don’
t know
about you, but cleaning bores me to death
, and this is
a big place. I’
d rather pay someone to do it
,”
he says.
“
And if you
’
re going
to be busy in the evenings, maybe we should get someone in to cook for us too
– I don’
t always have the ti
me myself,”
he adds.

I think about it for a second, maybe it’
s not a bad idea. I can cook when I
’
m home early, and when I
’
m not the chef can do it, at least I
’
ll know Tristan
’
s
getting a decent meal in him.

I look around the huge expanse and decide a
cleaner would probably be a good idea too. Tristan and I could spend all
weekend cleaning this place, and we still wouldn’
t get
to every room.

“
Ok, let
’
s do it
,”
I say.

“
Glad you agree,
”
he says.
“
But I was going to do it anyway.
”
He adds grinning broadly at me. “
What do you think
about a live-in
housekeeper?”
he asks.

I shrug, unable to answer as I’
m eating, b
ut wouldn’
t that be weird, other people living in the house?
But there’
s something about the way he
’
s smiling at me.

I quickly swallow. “
Do you already have one?
”
I ask.

“
Yes
,”
he smiles.
“
In London,
” he adds.

“
You do?
”
I squeak in surprise.

“
Yes,
”
he chuckles.
Hmm,
I’
ve never asked him where he spends most of his
time.

“
Are you there a
lot, you know compared to Birmingham and Leeds?
”

“
Yes, I consider it
home…well, I did,
”
he
says his thumb skimming my cheek.

“
Male or female?
”
I ask
, frowning at
him.

“
Female.
”
Hmm, not sure
about that!

“
Will you ask her
to come here?
”

“
Yes.
”

“
Do you think she
will?
”

“
Yes, I think so.
Her daughter is in Devon so I think she
’
ll jump at the opport
unity.”

“
Oh,
”
I nod.
“
How long has she worked for you?
”

“
Ten years.
”
He raises one eyebrow as he reads m
y expression –
Crap!

“
She
’
s sixty-three,
”
he says, smiling broadly
.

“
Oh,
”
I say feeling stupid.

“
Oh baby,
”
he chuckles
. “Edith
is lovely, when she came for the interview, I hired her there and then,”
he says, his eyes going all warm with memories.

“
Why?
”
I ask.

“
She was by far the
best candidate,
”
he says, but I
can tell he
’
s hiding something.

“
Why don
’
t you just tell me the truth?
”
I say between mouthful
s.

Tristan sighs then smiles warmly at me. “
Alright,
ten years ago I had my folks move
in with me, they were both getting on and I didn’
t want
them rotting away in a
care home. My London pad has its
own studio, so they were happy with that. Edith knew her duties would be mainly
taking care of them, keeping the house clean, grocery shopping, cooking meals,
you know stuff like that…”
he trails off, his cheeks
flaming.

“
What
’
s wrong
?”
I whisper.

He turns and stares down at me with sad
eyes. “
I miss my folks Co
ral,
sometimes…it’
s
really hard to
think about them,”
he says swallowing hard.

“
I know baby.
”
I wrap my arm
around his waist, lean my head on his shoulder and wait for him to continue, he
rests his head on mine and continues.

“Edith had never worked a day in her life, but
she knew how to run a home. Her husband had always done well, and she wanted to
be a full time mother to their daughter, so she was a stay at home mom, but her
husband had died suddenly of a heart attack, the very same month her daughter
had gone off to university. She said to me that she had to re-evaluate her
life, and with them both gone she knew she couldn’
t
stand being in the house, the other job she applied to was cabin crew on a
cruise-liner.
”

“
She was
brave,”
I say.

“
Yes and
determined, I immediately liked her and so did my folks,
she really was the mothering type, which was exactly the kind of
women I trusted to take care of my folks, you hear such horror stories about
abuse in homes…”
Tristan stops de
ad and looks down at me.

“
It
’
s ok Tristan, I know what you meant,
believe me I
’
ve thought about
it often enough with Gladys, there
’
s no way I
’
d let her
go into a home.”

Tristan nods once then continues. “Well as
you know, I like giving good jobs to good people,”
he
says.

“
Yes Tristan, I
know, you
’
re very sweet like
that,
”
I say.

“
Well, sh
e started with me, and after three months she put her house up for
sale, it quickly sold, and she has the money invested for when she retires,”
he says.

“
So, was she there?
”
I question
. “
At the funerals? Did she help you Tristan? Help you get through it
all?
”

“
Yes,
”
he breathes
. “
Without her I think I would have fallen apart,
”
he adds, his eyes darkening as he
remembers.

“
Oh Tristan,
”
I kiss his cheek and hold him to me
. “
Th
en she must
come here, she can't stay in London on her own, not after everything she’
s done for you,
”
I
say.
“
And I like her already,
”
I add
, knowing it’
s true,
she helped Tristan through a painful
part of his life.

Tristan pulls back and gazes down at me. “You
are so sweet,”
he whispers.

“
Tristan
’ –“
You are,
”
he interrupts.

“
So will you ask
her?
”
I say
, trying to get off the subject of me.

“
You
’re keen?”
he observes.

“
Yes, aren
’
t you?
”

“
Yes,
”
he smiles
. “
I have a question?
”

I swallow hard. “
Ok.
”

“
Next wee
kend, can we move you in, I mean officially. I’
m dying to tell everyone Coral, I don
’
t think I can contain it much longer
. I want
the whole world to know that you, beautiful you, have consented to be my wife.”