“We’re at ten thousand feet,” Liv told her. “Don’t be surprised if you get winded walking up the stairs.”
Someone upstairs was making breakfast, and it smelled really good. And coffee. Tristan pulled her sweatshirt over her head and went in search of the heavenly scents.
Bullet knew he should go out and help with the morning chores. Lyric had offered to keep an eye on Grey a couple of times. When she pinched his shoulder and whispered that he should consider earning his keep, he relented, knowing he couldn’t put it off any longer.
“You know how long that Tristan lady is staying?” he whispered back.
“Oh, no. No way. You aren’t goin’ down that road. She is strictly hands-off to you, bro.”
“Why’s that?” And since when did Lyric tell him what to do, or in this case, what not to do?
“She’s gonna be partnerin’ with Flying R, and we don’t need any of your drama landin’ on her.”
Bullet had several responses for his sister, backed by a temper fueled by the buttons she was pushing, but he kept his mouth shut and made his way to the front door.
When he got a glimpse of Tristan coming up the stairs, he closed the door he’d just opened and walked back into the kitchen.
“Good morning, everyone,” she muttered.
The sound of sleep that lingered in her voice filled him with lust. He folded his arms, leaned against the wall, and watched her. She was tall, almost as tall as he was, with long, dark blonde hair, and eyes that sometimes looked blue, but right now, looked green. She was thin, but curvy—womanly. Her movements were graceful as she reached up to open the cupboard Liv pointed to, slowly took the cup from it, and then turned to fill it with coffee.
Bullet closed his eyes and imagined wrapping his arm around her waist as she did, sweeping her hair to the side, and nibbling on the nape of her neck. He’d trail kisses from her hairline to her shoulder—
“Dude, weren’t you headed outside?” Lyric barked, louder than necessary.
“Yeah, yeah. But I don’t want to be rude and leave without saying good mornin’ to Miss Tristan.” Bullet walked over to where she stood.
Her knee was bent just slightly, and one bare foot rested on top of the other. Her perfectly-manicured toes were painted a reddish-orange that made him want to lick them, one by one.
“I hope you slept well after your visit to the hot tub,” he whispered, causing her cheeks to pinken just slightly. He leaned in closer. “Good morning, sweetness. Ouch!” he gasped when someone slapped the back of his head.
When he turned around, Bree was standing behind him. Her arms were folded in front of her, but she was smiling.
“He tried to charm the pants off me the first time I met him too.”
Bullet smiled. “And when was that?”
“The morning you were sleeping naked on my sofa.”
Tristan smirked. “Ah. Evidently naked shenanigans are part of your regular repertoire.”
Bullet put his arm around Bree’s shoulders. “You’re givin’ me a bad name with the lady. Now, tell her the truth. You ain’t never seen me naked.”
“He’s right. I haven’t actually seen him naked.” Bree looked from Bullet to Tristan. “Wait. Have you?”
Tristan took a sip of coffee, weighing her words. “Yes, a couple of times.” She added a shoulder shrug to suggest it wasn’t any big deal, and then set her coffee on the kitchen counter. She opened the refrigerator door, hoping Bullet wouldn’t notice how her hands shook.
“Did I hear your sister say you were headed outside?” Tristan turned back around and looked into the blue eyes focused directly on hers. He didn’t just stare; his eyes were penetrating, as though he could read her mind through them.
“What’s the plan for today, Tristan?” interrupted Liv.
“I’m waiting to hear from my father. Besides that, I’m compiling a list of competitors we’ve targeted in the past, but we didn’t have enough capital behind us to interest them.”
“I can help with that,” Lyric offered.
“I was hoping you would. Maybe you and I can put our heads together and see if there’s anyone you can suggest
who we haven’t taken a look at yet.”