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Quinn scooted her chair back. “I’m going to go get it.” She was up and gone before I could beg her not to leave me alone with her uncle.
I ripped off a sizable chunk of the delectable garlic bread and shoved it in my mouth, hoping Tristan got the memo that we didn’t need to converse if Quinn wasn’t around.
“You still hate me, don’t you?” he said under his breath. Apparently, he was reading the room correctly.
“More than ever,” I grumbled after chewing and swallowing.
He turned toward me, a smile in his eyes. “It’s been a long time since we’ve shared a meal together.”
“Not long enough.” I shoved more bread in my mouth. I would at least admit the man could still cook. The spaghetti and bread were to die for. And the way the night was going, there could be another funeral in the near future.
“Calista,” he whispered intimately. “I don’t blame you for hating me. Hell, I hate myself for what I did. But can we at least be friends and not just friendly? For Quinn’s sake.”
“Don’t you dare use her to get to me,” I spat.
His features turned icy. “I would never use Quinn,” he seethed. “You know I’m not that guy.”
His words stung. But … “Do I really know you? Did I ever?”
He hung his head. “I suppose I deserve that.”
Quinn came bouncing back, all smiles, holding the most adorable calico kittens. She looked between Tristan and me. “You guys aren’t fighting, are you?”
“No, no,” we both responded with plastered smiles.
“Oh, good,” she said, relieved, holding up the kittens. “This is Poppy and Coco. Poppy is for you. Surprise!”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I loved cats, but I knew Stella wasn’t fond of them, and this was her house, even though she never seemed to be home. Which was irking me more and more. All the words were about to be said to her the next time I saw her. “Uh … wow. Um … thank you. I don’t know where I’ll keep her right now.”
“I thought you could keep her at my place for now, along with Coco,” Tristan rang in. “You can visit her whenever you want.”
“Isn’t that great?” Quinn asked before I could respond to the infuriating man.
“So, so great,” I gritted through my teeth. Because that’s just what I wanted. To visit my ex’s house all the time.
Quinn pranced over and handed the sweet kitten to me. She was adorable, butterscotch and black fur with hints of white.
I held up the cutest bribe ever and stared into her blue eyes, eyes that were reminiscent of Tristan’s. Both pairs were saying the same thing: You know you like me. The kitten, yes. Tristan, no. “Hello, Poppy.”
She mewed the squeakiest mew.
I smiled and set her on my lap, where she curled into a tiny ball and purred.
“I think she likes you,” Tristan commented.
“Of course she does.” Quinn snuggled her own kitten. “I’m going to go call Beckett. You guys don’t mind cleaning up, right? And, Aunt Calista, Uncle Tristan’s cut has really been hurting him. You should probably check that out. Bye-bye.” She flitted off.
I stared after the cute imp as she walked off, no doubt congratulating herself. If she thought I was going to fall for her little coup, she was sorely mistaken.
Tristan grinned over at me, obviously happy with how this was all turning out. “I’m sure you had a long day, so I’ll do the dishes while you rest.”
I was going to protest and tell him I would do the dishes and he could just go home, but the day had exhausted me. So I nodded my thanks while stroking Poppy.
Tristan stood and grabbed his plate along with Quinn’s and walked them over to the sink.
“I’ll pay you for Poppy.” I didn’t feel right accepting gifts from him.
“No need. Besides, we got her at the shelter,” Tristan informed me. “I knew you would prefer a rescued animal.”
