Page 53 of Black Heart

“I don’t have anger issues,” Tristan bit out tightly.

“What would you call it?” Marty asked, shooting him a curious look.

He pursed his lips up thoughtfully before he said, “Expressing my displeasure with everything and everyone in an efficient manner.”

“By scaring the living hell out of everyone?” she asked in disbelief.

“It is the most efficient way,” Tristan mused, chuckling when she rolled her eyes, but he didn’t miss the smile that she tried to hide as she looked away.

“Where are we going?” Tristan asked, wondering if this bullshit Hank threw at them at the last minute had ruined her plans for the night. It actually made him feel kind of bad, until he wondered if she had a date planned for tonight. Then, he didn’t feel so bad about wrecking her plans. She shouldn’t be seeing any other guys when she was-

She wasn’t his and she never would be, Tristan reminded himself. The reminder that she would never be his made his chest ache. Was he really supposed to live without her? Tristan wondered as he studied her. She was beautiful, smart, funny as hell, and she made him happy.

Could he really live without her?

Allowing her into his life would be a risk, a risk that he wasn’t sure he was ready for, but if he didn’t risk everything, he would lose her. Having her in his life would mean being more careful and never allowing his guard down when she was around. What if she moved in or they got married? He’d have to be careful about what he said or how he acted so that she didn’t catch him talking to Shayne or any spirit that decided to track him down.

Granted, it would be a lot of work, but he did it before when he’d lived with his family. It had been stressful to keep up the pretense of being normal for his family and, as much as he loved them, it had been a huge weight off his shoulders when he’d finally moved out on his own and could let his guard down. Could he do it again for Marty?

Yes, he could, Tristan suddenly realized.

For her, he would do anything.

It would be a lot of work and he wouldn’t be allowed to relax when she was around, but it would be worth it. If he could have Marty in his life and not have to watch as some other asshole took his place, he would gladly do whatever it took. He’d work his ass off for the rest of his life to make her happy if she gave him the chance.

“Why are you smiling?” Marty asked warily as she parked the car.

He couldn’t help but smile. Up until this point, he’d never really allowed himself to hope for anything more with her. Even this weekend, when things had gotten out of control, he hadn’t truly allowed himself to think that he could have her. He’d always feared that he’d somehow give himself away, but as long as he was careful, really fucking careful, he should be able to pull this off. He’d do anything so that he didn’t have to live without her. He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her and hold her as he told her how much he loved her, how he’d always loved her, but now wasn’t the time.

She was pissed at him and probably for good reason. He may have been an asshole over the past couple of weeks. There would probably be groveling involved when he convinced her to give him a chance and he didn’t want to do that in a-

“What are we doing here?” Tristan demanded, looking around the parking lot only to discover to his horror that they were at a mini-mall.

Marty sighed heavily as she grabbed her purse and opened her door. “I’m starving and you’re buying me dinner.”

He looked at his watch and shrugged. They had forty-five minutes before he had to go to the meeting and convince the therapist that it would be in his best interest to sign off on his sheet and pretend that he met the new requirements. Hopefully, it would only take ten minutes out of his night so that he could focus on Marty because no matter what, she would be his before this night was over.

“What are you in the mood for?” Tristan asked as he joined her in front of his car. Before she could drop his keys in her purse, he deftly snatched them and pocketed them, pointedly ignoring her adorable murderous glare. She really was rather pretty when she was contemplating killing him, Tristan mused as he took her hand in his and led her toJason’s BBQ Shackwithout waiting for an answer.

Not that he really needed one. Marty loved BBQ, always had and probably always would. When they were kids, she’d show up at his house within five minutes of the grill being started, ready to dig in. It didn’t matter if she’d already eaten, was grounded, playing, or was in the middle of eating dinner with her father, if Marty smelled BBQ, she came running. He secretly suspected that his parents made sure to fire up the grill several times a week just to give Marty and her father an excuse to come over and enjoy a home-cooked meal.

Hank was a great father and a hell of a man, but he sucked at cooking, so he’d left that particular chore on Marty’s shoulders when she was barely big enough to reach the cabinets. Of course, his mother sent over casseroles and invited them over for practically every meal, but Hank was a stubborn man and hated charity. He accepted a few meals every week to give Marty a break and because, honestly, her cooking skills had been severely limited when she’d first started cooking. Still, the man was determined to make a real home for Marty and that meant the two of them ate alone like a family most of the time.

“What are you doing?” Marty asked as she tried to pull her hand away, but he refused to let go. It felt good to hold her hand and now that he’d decided that he wasn’t going to let her go, Tristan realized that there was no longer any reason to deny himself what he wanted.

“Holding your hand. What does it look like I’m doing?” Tristan asked as they passed the old-fashioned ice cream shop that he decided they’d hit after they ate to see if Marty still had a weak spot for peanut butter cup sundaes to sweeten her up for the talk that they needed to have later.

“Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I hold your hand?” Tritan asked as he reached over and opened the door to the small barbeque joint for her.

“Because I hate you?” Marty said, blinking up at him as she tried pulling her hand away.

“There is that,” Tristan murmured, letting her hand go and gestured for her to go in front of him.

“Why did you say that like I was kidding?” Marty asked, pausing to let an elderly couple carrying trays full of food pass them as they made their way to the small dining area.

“Because you were,” Tristan said, taking her hand back in his as they moved to step into the, thankfully, short line.

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