Page 67 of My eX-MAS Emergency

She coyly smiled at him, knowing exactly how much she turned him on. “Sounds like I’m missing out on all the fun.”

Tristan held out the remaining marshmallows in his hand. “Do you want to join in?” he stuttered like a starstruck teen.

“Give me a second.” She pranced off toward his bedroom, and dang if he didn’t want to follow her and define the relationship without using a single word. He tilted his head, following her every move, thinking things he shouldn’t. At least not in front of his niece.

Quinn came out from hiding and patted his back. “You’ve got it bad for her.”

Truer words had never been spoken.

Quinn stockpiled marshmallows while Tristan got out some garlic and butter to cook the steaks in.

Calista returned in no time, holding her phone, a pensive look on her face. Although she was doing her best to smile, Tristan knew her well enough to know something wasn’t right. He worried it might be something concerning Stella. Or perhaps his parents were already causing trouble. He probably shouldn’t have kissed her in front of the hospital, but he couldn’t help himself. The rush of emotion he felt when he knew she was okay had overcome him. Regardless, he would make sure Calista’s job was safe. He wasn’t going to let anything or anyone impede their relationship this time.

“Quinn, didn’t you say you wanted to call Beckett?” Tristan was anxious to find out what was bothering Calista.

“You’re just afraid I’ll beat you in …,” she started to say, but then looked between her aunt and uncle, a smile forming on her face. “Actually, I do need to call him.” She winked at Tristan. “Have fun.” She waved and jaunted off toward the spare bedroom.

With Quinn gone, Tristan sat at the island and pulled out the stool next to him, inviting Calista to join him. “What’s wrong?”

She let out a heavy breath and joined him.

“Is it my parents?” he spewed.

“Not yet.” Calista looked around to make sure Quinn wasn’t within earshot. She pulled up her phone and leaned in closer to Tristan. “I just got a voice mail and some texts from Jules.”

“The woman you brought to the parade?”

“Yeah. She’s been helping me find out who that guy is that was groping my sister.”

Tristan’s face contorted, thinking about the scene he’d witnessed at the motel. He wished he could scrub it from his memory. “Did she find something out?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Calista seethed.

“What?” Tristan was concerned.

“Before I tell you, I should probably show you something. Get ready to be disturbed.” She clicked a few things on her phone.

Tristan was expecting to see crime footage, or the likes of it. But nothing could have prepared him for the glowing orange man gyrating on the screen and trying to pass it off as a serious workout. “Is that the guy from outside the motel?” he was afraid to ask.

“Yep. His name is Skip. And that’s the only thing ole Skippy has told the truth about. Well, as far as I know. My sister would only tell me his first name. But I have to believe he’s been lying to her.”

“What do you mean?”

“His Australian accent. Fake. His last name. Fake. And I have something else to show you.”

“I’m not sure I want to see anything else if it involves him.”

The corners of her lips ticked up. “I promise, no more bicycle shorts or shiny orange bare chests.”

He leaned in closer to her, breathing in the scent of her hair. The smell of his mint shampoo on her was driving him wild. “You smell good,” he couldn’t help but say.

“I smell like you.”

He flashed her a seductive grin. “I smell good on you. Always have.”

“Focus,” she flirtatiously admonished him. “This is serious.”

“Very.” He ran a finger down the exposed area of her chest.

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