Black Heart (Cursed Hearts #1)(57)

He pressed a kiss to her lips. "Last time. I promise," he said with such an innocent expression that she almost believed him.

*-*-*-*

"Baby, wake up." A pause. "Marty, it's time to wake up," Tristan said, giving her a little shake.

Marty came awake with a start. When she saw him, she practically flew off the bed. The entire time she refused to turn her back on him. She held out her hand in a stopping motion towards him when he moved to go to her.

"Just stay away from me, Tristan Black," she warned as she backed up towards the bathroom.

Tristan shook his head in disbelief as he watched Marty turn and practically run to the bathroom. She slammed the door shut and seconds later locked it.

"What's wrong with her?" Shayne asked, materializing next to him.

He shrugged as he fixed his tie. "No idea. I'm guessing she's not a morning person."

Shayne snorted as they listened while Marty threatened a very vital part of Tristan's anatomy. "Guess not, lad."

Chapter 20

"You and I need to talk," Tristan said quietly as he threw his bathroom door one last look of longing. He wanted to take Marty back into his bed and hold her, but they had to move their asses if they were going to make it to the therapy session early enough for him to explain to the therapist that it would be in his best interest to sign Tristan's paper and forget all about Hank's request.

"Ye don't have to thank me, lad," Shayne said, grinning hugely. "I was happy to help."

For a moment, Tristan could only stare at him, sure that he’d misheard. "You call that help?" he demanded in a harsh whisper.

Shayne nodded firmly, still grinning as he let out a happy little sigh. "Ye finally got the lass right where ye want her."

"And you really think you had something to do with that?" Tristan asked in a low whisper as he kept an eye on the door.

"Of course I did, lad," Shayne said, gesturing to the rumpled sheets. "Ye really didn't think that ye managed to get her in bed with yer skills, now did ye?"

When Tristan only glared, Shayne let out an exaggerated sigh as he gave Tristan a pitying look. "That really is sad, lad. Just sad," he said, shaking his head in sympathy.

"Say goodbye to your  p**n , you betraying bastard," he hissed, grinning hugely when Shayne's jaw dropped.

"But that entertains me!"

Tristan merely shrugged as he adjusted his tie.

"It's educational!" Shayne protested.

Tristan chuckled as he grabbed his weapon off the bureau and attached it to his belt, wincing when a muscle in his arm protested, but he ignored it. He had too much shit to do and he wasn't about to let Hank put him back on full medical.

"Consider it gone," Tristan said as he checked his hair in the mirror.

Shayne let out a heartfelt sigh. "I didn't want to have to tell ye this, lad, but ye’ve left me no choice. I'm afraid that I need to watch  p**n  at least eight hours a day or I'll die."

"Uh huh," Tristan said absently as he attached a holster to his ankle.

"It's true, lad. I have a medical condition. I didn't tell ye, because I didn't want to worry ye, lad," Shayne said with nod as if he truly thought this bullshit was believable.

"Do you know what you left me with yesterday when you pulled your disappearing act?" Tristan asked, nervously glancing around the room when he suddenly remembered the bimbo twins.

"I already took care of the lasses, lad," Shayne said, reading his mind, not literally, of course. After all these years together it wasn't too difficult to figure out what the other one was thinking.

"Not soon enough," he said, looking at his watch. They needed to move their asses now if Marty was going to have a chance to go home and change into some clean clothes.

"Well, ye were being a bit of an ass yesterday, lad. So really, ye can't blame me for that disappearing act," Shayne explained sheepishly.

"And I bet you were so upset that you just had to rush home and get a dose of  p**n  to help settle your nerves," he drawled as he turned around and leaned back, resting his hip against the bureau while he waited for Marty.

"That's it exactly, lad," Shayne readily agreed.

Tristan couldn't help but chuckle. "You're pathetic."

"I really am and if ye get rid of my  p**n , I'll be too weak to help keep the lifeless lasses away from ye," Shayne rushed to explain when they both knew that Tristan would never get rid of the man's  p**n .

"Just make sure to keep that shit off the television when Marty's around," he said when the bathroom door suddenly opened.

She paused in the doorway as she wrapped a large baby blue towel around herself. "Who are you talking to?" she asked, frowning as she looked around the room.

"No one," Tristan said quickly, inwardly groaning when she cocked a disbelieving brow in his direction.

"Real smooth, lad," Shayne drawled with an eye roll.

He barely stopped himself from flipping Shayne off as he walked over to Marty, who he might add looked incredibly sexy wrapped up in one of his towels.

"Good morning," he said softly as he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, hoping she'd forget that she heard him talking to himself. If this was going to work, and he was going to damn well make sure that it did, he was going to have to be a hell of a lot more careful when he was around her.