“Great. I’ll put in extra fruit so it’ll be sweeter.”
He brushed past Sean to get to the refrigerator, noticing how quickly Sean sidestepped him to avoid physical contact. Recalling the bruise he’d put on Sean’s arm, Tristan knew he had to apologize.
“Before I forget, I’m sorry I grabbed your arm and gave you that bruise. You startled me. Guess it’s a leftover response from my days undercover.”
Sean’s jaw dropped. “You were an undercover cop? That’s cool.”
“Yeah, before I became a detective.” He busied himself in the refrigerator so as not to face Sean, and took a moment, relishing the cool air on his overheated skin.
“You must’ve seen some crazy shit. Did you work drug busts and stuff like that?”
“In the beginning. My last case was taking down a child pornographer. But he killed my partner.”
Sean’s eyes widened, the devastation in them clear. “Oh, my God. I-I didn’t know…”
“I know. It’s not all cool, like you think. It’s dangerous work that fucking sucks sometimes.”
“I’m sorry.” Sean paled and hung his head. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s fine.” Tristan’s hands tightened on the bunch of kale. “I don’t like talking about it.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. “That part of my life is over.”
“At least you got the guy. That’s something, right?”
“No. Not when he took out my best friend. It wasn’t enough. It’ll never be enough.” He whipped around to face Sean, who stood frozen with his mouth still open. “That bastard might be dead, but he took out the best man I’ve ever met, and now his daughter will never know him.” He shut his eyes for a second to reorient himself. “Shit. I’m sorry. It’s just…never mind. Let me make you that drink.”
“Y-you don’t have to.” Sean’s gaze darted to the head of kale he was crushing in his fist. “Looks like you don’t really need that blender. What’d that poor vegetable ever do to you? You’re squeezing the life out of it with your bare hands.”
Tristan glanced down and grimaced, then placed the manhandled kale on the countertop and wiped his hands. “It’s a sore spot. People think police work is like they see on television, and that at the end of an hour it’s all wrapped up with the bad guys getting caught. It doesn’t work like that. Sometimes they win.”
Hating the sympathetic expression in Sean’s eyes, he turned his back to grab the blender pitcher and fill it with water. He rinsed off the kale and added peaches, grapes, and a banana. While that was being pulverized, he took an acai packet from the freezer, scooped out chia seeds, and cut up an apple. He stopped the blender, added everything, and started it up. Within two minutes he poured out the mixture into the drinking cup provided, but he probably needed to apologize to Sean again.
Damn, he hadn’t stopped saying sorry since he’d walked through the front door. At least Sean was a good-natured person. Tristan huffed out a sigh and slid the cup with the green smoothie across the island.
“Listen. I didn’t mean to pop off on you. It’s only been a few years, and it’s still fresh in my head.”
“S’okay.” Sean inclined his head. “Was that why you left the police department? I mean, retired?”
Tristan stared at the blinding white counter, his thoughts pensive. “Like I said, I don’t like talking about it. It’s a time in my life that’s over.”
If only that were true. When he closed his eyes every night, all he saw was Terry sinking to the floor and bleeding from the neck, and the night became an endless source of pain and blackness. The struggle not to fall apart was real, all the self-doubt and loathing running through his blood like poison.
He hoped Sean listened to him and this conversation would close the book on any further discussion of his personal life.
Sean eyed the drink, and Tristan couldn’t help smiling. Sean was really cute. “Go on. It’s not going to bite you.”
Dubious, Sean took the cup, sniffed it, then drank a little. “All right. This is pretty decent.”
Feeling like he’d accomplished something special, Tristan folded his arms and leaned against the counter. “Drink some more so we can eat. I’m hungry, and that food smells good.”
“I thought it would taste like dirt.” Sean gulped some more and licked his lips. Tristan stood, transfixed by the sight of Sean’s pink tongue sweeping over the fullness of his lower lip.
Shit. Get it together. You can’t fuck this guy and walk away. He’s Ray’s family. Forbidden fruit.
Struggling with this unanticipated physical reaction, Tristan rubbed his face. “I don’t drink dirt,” he grumbled and pulled over one of the containers of food Sean had set out. “What did you get me to eat, by the way?”
“Veggie dumplings and this crispy thing with mixed vegetables. Not tofu. The other one. I can’t remember, but they said it tastes more like meat. I hope you like it a little spicy.”
“Crispy?” Tristan popped the top off. “Ah,seitan. Now that’s the good stuff. And yeah, I do. Like it spicy, that is.”
