Crash into Me (Heart of Stone #1)(37)
Author: K.M. Scott

He looked down at the watch on his right wrist for the time and lifted his eyes to me. "It’s five, so we’re not working anymore. Are you hungry?"

"Not really."

"Good. I’ve decided we’re flying back to New York early, so we’ll take off in about an hour. My staff will make sure our bags are taken to the plane, so we best be on our way."

"Tristan, I haven’t packed anything. All of my things are all over the bathroom," I said in protest, uncomfortable with the idea of one of his people touching things like my razor and moisturizer.

"I’ll buy you replacements when we get back then."

I wrinkled my nose at the thought of wasting money like that. "That’s ridiculous. Why can’t I just pack my things myself? Why would you spend money when you don’t have to?"

He lifted my chin with his fingertip and smiled at me. "I’d spend all I have if it made you happy, Nina."

Wrapping my hand around his finger, I brought it to my mouth in a kiss. "You don’t have to spend money on me like that. I mean, I love the clothes, and it was very sweet of you to buy me all that new shampoo and conditioner when I moved in, but you don’t have to. I thought that wealthy people had money because they didn’t spend it."

"Wealthy people have money because they spend it wisely. I think buying things to make you happy is very wise."

There was no point in fighting him on this. He had decided the issue, and I was expected to be content with it. In truth, I knew there were far worse things than a man buying me whatever made me happy whenever I wanted it.

But the stubborn part of me still thought it foolish.

"I’d be happy if you never bought me a thing again just knowing you love me."

And as soon as the L word left my mouth, I felt like crawling into a hole. He’d never said he loved me—just written it—and the look on his face screamed that he hadn’t meant what I’d hoped when he used it in his notes.

That same look of fear I’d seen in his eyes a few times before returned, and he quickly looked away toward the bedroom. "Well, you better get your things packed so the bags can be ready. We’re going to be late if we don’t get moving."

I’d done it. Ruined everything by using the L word too soon, and now I felt like a fool. I hurried into the bedroom to escape the look of discomfort in his eyes. He was probably thinking of how he could let me down easy. He could be sweet like that. Maybe he’d disappear back to the city, leaving me out in the country. Or maybe he’d suddenly have a lot of work functions to attend with the actresses, again leaving me alone out in the country.

Whatever he would do, I cringed at what I’d done. I knew better than to introduce that word into a relationship so early. Nothing worked better to send a man running for the hills than to start talking about love this soon, and I’d gone and done it. What an ass I was!

I quickly packed my things and returned to the living room. Tristan stood waiting, and as we left, I had the feeling whatever progress we’d made while we’d been in Dallas was gone, blacked out by my silly slip of the tongue.

Men were funny when it came to expressing what they felt, but a woman knew the truth about the man she was with if she cared to pay attention. Tristan was very much the same man he’d been with me all along as we rode on the plane and the drive back to the house. He laughed at my forced jokes, which was nice since I felt like I was walking on eggshells, and even held my hand as we rode from JFK to his house upstate.

But there was something different about him. It was subtle, but it was there.

By the time we got back to the house, all I wanted to do was skulk into my bedroom with my tail between my legs and hope that a little time apart would repair any damage I’d done. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he wanted to escape to the city. He seemed as interested as I was in going off on his own and made some excuse about having work to do as we walked through the front door.

A quick shower and I was ready to crawl under the covers. I changed into my t-shirt and shorts and flopped down on the bed, physically and emotionally exhausted. How he travelled like he did baffled me. Just the trip to his penthouse and then to Dallas had worn me out, but I knew what I was feeling was more in my heart than in my bones.

Regret was exhausting. And for two days and two nights it nearly wore me out. I busied myself with researching possible art groupings for future suites and penthouses, just trying to keep my mind off what had happened. Noticeably absent were any flowers in my room when I woke up either morning.

On the third day, I checked my email and saw that Jordan had sent me a message. I stared at my laptop’s screen in terror, praying to God that she hadn’t sent me anymore links to pictures of Tristan and stunning women. Finally, after a long tug of war between wanting to know what she’d sent and pure, unadulterated dread at the thought of him with someone else, I clicked on the little envelope icon and breathed a tremendous sigh of relief. No Tristan and hot women, thankfully. Just an email to tell me I needed to pay my cell phone bill. Seems I’d forgotten to pay it and the fine people at the phone company had been good enough to send me a reminder that had ended up in her mailbox that morning.

I tapped out a quick thank you email, making sure I let her know that everything was so much better now between Tristan and me. Lying to my best friend made me feel worse, but I didn’t know how to explain that I’d actually succeeded in finding out he wasn’t with other women only to ruin everything with a rookie dating mistake.

Despite not having even a bar of service out there, I had to keep my cell. I may have been out in the country, but I wasn’t back in time. A few clicks and I was at my bank’s online site with the hope that I had enough in my account to pay my bill. Poor and I were long time friends since college, but if Tristan had deposited the $20,000 advance in my account, I’d be in better shape than ever before.

I logged in and for the first time in my life, a number took my breath away. My eyes were glued to the page for so long they began to dry out. I rubbed them and opened them again to see my bank account had a balance of $25,085.47.

There must have been some mistake. Over and over I told myself those exact words as I clicked to check the source of the deposits. One for $20,000 had been made the day I’d signed my contract and one the day after we returned from Dallas for $5000. But what was that for? I wasn’t due to be paid for my first month for weeks.

A knock on my door that night shook me out of feeling sorry for myself and my lovelife woes, and I opened it to see Tristan standing there in just the silk pajama bottoms I’d seen draped over a chair in his room.

"I’d hoped you’d be in my room," he said with that innocence that sometimes seeped into his voice.