Page 116 of Revenge Is a Dish Best Served… Wearing Heels?
His hands squeezed mine, eyes staring straight down to my soul. "Let meshowyou. Let me show you the kind of man I can be. Let me earn your trust, prove to you that I'm trustworthy, that I care deeply about you, about this baby, about our—"
"Hold up," Archie interrupted. "Did you say baby? What baby? There's ababy?"
Hard as it was to glance away from Tristan and the incredible way he was looking at me, I focused in on Archie for a second, wondering what to say, wondering if it was too late to put that cat back in the bag.
"Are you—?" he asked, his mouth hanging open with his shock.
"I am," I admitted, deciding he'd find out eventually anyway.
"Holy fucking shit."
"Language, brother. Language," Tristan said in a low voice.
"You're on me for fucking language when you can't be bothered to wrap it before you tap—"
"Archie. For the love of God, can you please be quiet?" A look I didn't recognize crossed Tristan's face, his jaw hardening, his eyes glinting with frustration. "That is fucking it."
Before I could think or even question what he meant by that, I was swept up in his arms bridal style and carried down the hallway to a quiet, secluded corner where Tristan set me down, my back against the wall.
My heart pounded as he caged me in with his arms and leaned into me. "I had to get away from the fucking circus in there, had to get you alone where we could actually talk for a minute before I take you home so you can rest after this crazy experience."
"Um, okay," I said, breathless by his display of strength, the easy way he lifted me like I weighed nothing. The man wasn't even out of breath in the slightest.
He swallowed, my eyes going to his neck, attracted to this man's throat muscles, something I didn't even know a person could be attracted to, had never even noticed in any guy before.
His head lowered and he opened his sexy mouth to speak. "And what I really want to know is... will you go with me Saturday night? If not to the gala, then somewhere, anywhere, a proper date with no masks. No peanut gallery. You and me. Just us against the world."
I hesitated, my mind still whirling. "That's something you really want?"
"God, yes. More than anything in the world. I'd love a chance to bury the fucking past, put it behind us, and convince you that we have a future together. An amazing, incredible future. If you're willing to give me a chance. I just want a chance to prove myself to you, to tell you all that I'm doing to try to be a better man. For you. And now forus."
With a gentle hand, he caressed my stomach, a place I usually didn't want anyone touching. But with Tristan, a man whoclearly had no problem with my belly, it was different. It was sweet. And it was hot.
How on earth could I possibly resist that?
I couldn't. So I leaned in and said one word that brought an instant smile to his lips.
"Yes."
Thirty-One
Astrid
While my hairstylist put the finishing touches on my hair, I glanced over at Aria and Annalise who were still looking through the contents piled up on my kitchen table. Apparently, Tristan had taken Archie's scolding to heart, spending tons of money to shower me with gifts every single day for the last week, multiple times a day, most of them currently covering every surface of my kitchen and living room.
There were flowers of course, scattered about my place, as well as enough luxury candles and perfumes to open my own boutique. Face aglow, Aria opened the tiny music box she'd found, opening it to play a familiar lullaby while Annalise held up a little cashmere onesie, causing Aria to clap her hand over her mouth.
"Oh, my God," Aria squealed. "That's so freaking adorable. I can't even stand it."
"Right?" Annalise agreed. "It's just too cute."
Annalise cooing over baby clothes? What was this world coming to?
"Ooh, and what's all this?" Aria had put the still-playing music box down and drifted away from the baby gifts to the more personal ones Tristan had sent.
She opened a box with a necklace and sighed over it before moving along to the earrings and bracelets. They hadn't yet spotted the five—yes,five—pairs of shoes, all of them heels, one of them custom made and inscribed with my most recent slogan #notsorry.
Yeah, that one had gotten me.Tristangot me.
