Biker's Virgin

“Wow.”

“Everyone seems to have forgotten that we work to support and enjoy the families we’ve built,” he reflected. “What’s the point in working this hard if we have no one to go home to?”

“I don’t know if everyone thinks that way, though,” I said, thinking of Tristan. “Some men just aren’t cut out for family life.”

“Maybe not,” Gregory agreed. “But I don’t think Tristan’s one of them.”

“Based on?”

“Instinct,” he said vaguely. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“What do you want?” he asked. “In regards to Tristan?”

I sighed—that really was the million-dollar question. “Would you judge me if I said I didn’t know?”

Gregory smiled. “Take the time to figure it out,” he said. “Don’t waste your whole life living on memories.”

There was sadness in his tone when he said it, and I couldn’t help but reach out and take his hand. “You’re a nicer guy than I had you pegged for.”

He laughed. “I’ll take that as a high compliment.”

“It was meant as one,” I said. “I wish… I wish that if I were in a different place emotionally…”

“I know,” he nodded. “I wish that date last night had been real.”

I could sense the possibility between us, but in the same breath, I knew it was a hollow feeling. It was hollow because of how I felt about Tristan. With that realization staring me in the face, I finally knew exactly what I wanted.

And I also knew that Lizzie had probably been right. I would probably get hurt.

Chapter Fifteen

Tristan

“Have all the preparations been made?” I asked, turning to Ben.

He nodded. “Everything’s taken care of.”

“The decorations?”

“They were un-crated this morning and strung up in the ballroom.”

“I don’t want it looking like some mediocre Christmas party at home,” I said.

“It’s looking good,” he assured me. “Very classy. We had Terrence Staten fly in from New York just to organize the look for this party.”

I groaned. “How much is that costing me?”

“Three nights in one of the deluxe suites.”

“Huh… I suppose that’s a fair price to pay,” I shrugged. “What about the food?”

“The menus were finalized four days ago,” Ben reminded me.

“I remember the meeting,” I said. “I don’t remember the menus.”

“Chef Pierre and Chef Arnaud are going to be the main chefs for the evening. We have two sections cordoned off for the buffet and the bar, and we’re going to have three live cooking stations.”