Page 21 of Guarding Bristol

“Sounds good.”She strode for the doors without looking back.

Tristan stood there for a moment, letting the silence surround him.It was time to be honest with himself.

This was about way more than earning her trust.He didn’t want to break through or pull down the walls she kept around herself.

He wanted her to open the gates for him.

Andonlyfor him.

Chapter Eight

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Arriving in CrimsonPoint was like stepping into an alternate universe compared to being on the streets of Portland.

TJ tugged his hood up against the chilly mist in the salty air and shoved his hands in the front pockets as he continued down the sidewalk along the main road that lined the waterfront, the familiar weight of his ruck pressed against his back.“Fogust” was in full effect today in the central Oregon Coast, a thick layer of marine cloud and mist hugging the ground reducing visibility.

The cool weather didn’t seem to be hurting the local economy any.Front Street was busy with a mix of locals and tourists visiting the brightly painted shops, restaurants and cafés.Children carried colorful kites or plastic pails and shovels while eating ice cream cones or cookies on the way to the beach.

Everything around him was clean and orderly.Everyone here seemed happy.A few people even offered him polite smiles as they passed by.

The abrupt shift in vibe was more jarring than he’d anticipated.He’d forgotten what it felt like to be seen.To be treated like an actual human being instead of people looking the other way or crossing the street if they noticed him.

Circling seagulls cried overhead, mixing with the rhythmic churning of the surf in the background.He caught the smell of deep-fried food and the tang of malt vinegar as he approached a fish and chips shop, then a waft of something sweet and vanilla-flavored farther up the street.It was coming from an open door of a little café across the road called Whale’s Tale, with a lineup that stretched halfway down the block.

He passed a veterinary office, did a double take when he spotted an obviously senior dog with a graying face and long, floppy ears lying flat on the floor just inside the glass door, staring up at him with droopy eyes.For some reason, it reminded him of a deflated air mattress, and one side of his mouth kicked up in amusement.

The sensation startled him.He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled, let alone laughed.It had been a long time since he’d had anything to smile or laugh about.

At the end of the street, he reached the Sea Hag, the town’s popular waterfront pub and the location for his upcoming meeting.When he walked in, the yeasty scent of beer hung in the air along with the mouthwatering smell of grilling burgers.

He glanced around the crowded space, taking in the view as the sound of combined conversations flowed over him.He was about ten minutes early, but even though it wasn’t quite noon, the bar was already jammed, and all the tables were occupied.

Two big guys at a booth in the corner turned to look at him.The dark-haired one raised his arm at him in greeting.Beckett Hollister, owner of the renovation company TJ was here to interview for, and a red-headed guy with a short beard.

He walked over to them, feeling more curious eyes on him as he passed the other tables.The locals knew he was a newcomer.

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