An Inches of Trust story
The time has finally come for cop Tristan Blake and architect Brian Townsend to get married. The guys have been through a lot over the past months, one way or another, so hopefully the service will go smoothly.
Brian's family is on board with puns and enthusiasm. But Tristan's family is less than supportive, and his mother makes her feelings known.
Fortunately, it will take more than an angry, bigoted, selfish parent to stop this ceremony from going forward. Love will have its day, and a life together leads them to the future and all the possibilities that it holds.
As they waited for the elevator, someone called out Tristan’s name. Both Brian and Tristan turned to look. It was Tristan’s mother. Brian noted the look of surprise on Tristan’s face.
Althea Blake stalked across the lobby toward her son, her Manolo Blahnik heels clicking on the tile.
“Mother ...” Tristan said warily.
“We need to talk, right now.” Althea said. Her tone was tight and snippy.
“I just got here. I’d really like to take my luggage up to the room first.” Tristan gestured with his garment bag.
“Fine. I’ll wait in the lounge.” She spun on her heel and took three steps before turning back. “I expect you back down here in twenty minutes, alone.” She strode off in the direction of the hotel bar.
“I don’t know whether we should be happy she deigned to come or afraid that she wants to reorganize the whole event,” Brian said.
The elevator door opened and he and Tristan stepped inside.
“That was not her I’m-here-to-take-charge-tone. I don’t know why she’s here.” Tristan closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall of the elevator.
Brian cupped his hand against Tristan’s cheek. “We’ll stash your stuff in the room and then come back down.”
“I think the ‘alone’ part means she doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“Your choice then.” Brian felt a little dubious about Tristan facing his mother alone the night before their wedding. Their history in recent years was rather rocky. The elevator stopped at the appropriate floor and the two of them got off. Brian led the way down the hall to their assigned room and opened it with a key card.
Inside the room, Tristan hung the garment bag in the closet and took off his heavy jacket. He sat down on the bed, elbows on his knees, head hanging. “I should be happy to see her, except I have suspicions where this is going.”
Brian dropped to his knees in front of Tristan and took Tristan’s hands in his own. “Let me at least come down to the bar with you. My folks tend to dawdle over drinks and they’re probably still down there. I can go hang out with them and still be not too far away from you.”
Tristan raised his head enough to meet Brian’s gaze. “I love you.”
“I think that’s why we’re getting married.” Brian leaned in and kissed his soon-to-be-husband.
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