Tristan followed Cree’s direction to her parents’ bed and breakfast while thinking that this had been an amazing day so far. Though he had dreamed about him and Cree reconnecting someday, his imagination hadn’t done the reality justice. He fell more in love with her with every moment he spent with her, and he was more confident than ever that they belonged together.
As he parked a few doors up from her parents’ bed and breakfast, Cree said, “It looks like my brother, Zion and my Uncle Idris, my dad’s twin brother, are here.” She pointed out their vehicles.
“Anything I should know before we go inside?”
“Only that the guys will probably be glued to their seats with a beer in hand watching football. Oh, and my dad’s twin, who some call the bad boy and black sheep in the family, is opposite of my dad in almost every way. Not only is he rough around the edges, but he’s been married and divorced three times with three sets of kids. Surprisingly, they all get along and are the epitome of a blended family.
“My mom and my Aunt GiGi are also here. Aunt GiGi helps with the business, especially on weekends and during the busy seasons. Oh, and since you’re a tall, good-looking man,” Cree said smiling, and Tristan chuckled, “she’ll probably have you blushing before the evening is over. As for my mom, she’s a wild card. I never know what she’s going to say or do. If she really is on one of her matchmaking kicks as my sister claims, there might be some random guy inside.”
“I’m not worried. One look at me, and your mom’s going to kick him out. I’m irresistible,” Tristan assured her.
Cree snorted. “Yeah, we’ll see, Mr. Irresistible. My mother is not easy to please. Then again, if you flash those damn dimples at her, you might win her over.”
As they approached the three-story Greystone, Tristan admired the exterior of the bed and breakfast. On the ride over, Cree had given him a little history on it, while also telling him that her parents had both worked in corporate America. When they got tired of the high-pressure and long hours, they quit their jobs and opened the B & B.
The Italian architectural style exterior was even more impressive than he had imagined. If the interior was just as nice, it was no wonder the place had been featured in various magazines. According to Cree, the seven-bedroom suites were always booked up during the peak season, which included spring, summer, and the end of the year holidays.
Instead of going to the bed and breakfast, they walked along a path on the side of the building that led to her parents’ cottage in back. Once they reached the door, Cree rang the doorbell, and a few minutes later, the door swung open. An older man appeared, but his attention was on something behind him.
“Hey, sweetheart,” the man said absently while looking over his shoulder. “Come on…”
The sound of cheering came from somewhere behind him, and he rushed back into the house.
“O—kay. That was my father.” Cree chuckled. “Clearly, we arrived during an important play.” She pushed the door open for them to enter. “That’s the risk of showing up in the middle of a football game, especially when Chicago is playing. He’s a huge fan.”
“Totally understandable,” Tristan said as they moved past the foyer and stood on the edge of a living room.
Besides her father, who was standing near the large television mounted on the wall, there were two other guys. The one who looked exactly like her father must’ve been her uncle, and the other had to be her brother Zion.
“Hey, you guys,” Cree said loud enough to get their attention.
“I was wondering if you had forgotten about stopping by,” Cree’s father said, his attention still on the television screen. “I’ll get those papers for you right after this play.”
Tristan chuckled and moved closer. “Who’s winning?”
“Chicago is up by…” Zion said but stopped and jerked his head around, clearly surprised to hear a man’s voice. He did a double take, and Tristan laughed at his comical expression.
“That knucklehead is my brother, Zion,” Cree said from next to Tristan, a smirk on her face.
“Hold up.” Zion bolted out of his seat, and that got their father and uncle’s attention. “Tristan Whitmore?” Zion said in awe, and Tristan laughed.
“Whaaat?” Cree’s uncle said, fully turning around in his seat.
Tristan knew he and Cree’s father were identical twins, but it was wild to see them next to each other looking exactly alike.
“Well, I’ll be damn,” Uncle Idris said. “It is him, but his ass should be on somebody’s football field playing. Not standing in this living room and wasting all that talent.”
Tristan grunted, hating to be reminded of what he’d been through the last nine months. “I’d love to be out there playing, but I guess there are just some things we have no control over.”
“Knock it off, Idris,” Cree’s father jumped into the conversation and shook Tristan’s hand. “Don’t pay my brother any mind. He always speaks before thinking, and sorry for not seeing you when I opened the door. I was a little distracted. I’m Israel. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too, sir.”
“Man, it’s a pleasure,” Zion said and shook Tristan’s hand. “What brings you to town?”
Tristan reached for Cree’s hand. Though he had told her that he wanted them to go public with their relationship, she hadn’t sounded too convinced. This would be the test.
Interlocking their fingers, he gently tugged her forward until she was standing beside him. Then he brought the back of her hand to his lips. “I grew up here, but what has me staying for good is your sister.”
