As a personal assistant, Tristan does just about everything for his boss. So, he's not surprised when Dante asks him to travel along to a wedding reception in the country and help the two grooms with their plans. He's not even surprised Dante has requested Gavin, Dante's security officer and Tristan's arch-enemy, to come as well.
Gavin is sexy, smart, struts like a peacock, and does everything he can to drive Tristan crazy on a daily basis. So as much as Gavin's presence was expected, Tristan isn't happy about it, and he's really not happy about having to sleep on a cot in a barn while Gavin gets to stay in the farmhouse in an actual bedroom.
When a little flirting gets Tristan into yet another argument with Gavin, things start to get heated between them -- in a way they never have before. As they start to learn a bit more about each other, Tristan is having a hard time deciding if the country air is messing with his head, or if there's a possibility the disgust he's been feeling for Gavin isn't actually hate at all.
The field was dry, and the crop was already out, so as it landed, the chopper whipped dust and debris everywhere. Much to Aaron's chagrin, I tucked a scarf around his face and then handed one to Dante. Per usual, Dante and I exchanged our soundless thanks and welcomes, I died a little inside at the awesomeness of him, then shrugged it off and gathered my bag, our abandoned jackets, and litter from the chopper. That was my mistake -- I should have gotten out. As soon as the blades had stopped, I should have jumped down and helped Dante and Aaron get out. Unfortunately, by the time I thought about it, Gavin had already beat me to it. I saw Dante lean towards him, Gavin's lips pressed close to his ear in an obvious one-on-one that should not be heard by other men, and rage rushed through me. Not because they were way too close, or because I was feeling jealousy over the attention Gavin was getting. I was just furious that Gavin dared to rest his filthy hands on my beautiful boss.
Gavin's gaze drifted up from the ground to the door of the chopper. We locked gazes. He registered my expression, which I have no doubt was an obvious scowl of distaste, and from behind Dante's back, Gavin flipped me off.
I narrowed my eyes, lifted my hand, and presented one back to him with a smile. "Suck it," I mouthed.
Dante stepped away from Gavin, I went back to the pretense of waiting patiently for them to get out of the way, and Gavin reached up to offer me a hand. I didn't want to take it, and I wouldn't have if it had just been the two of us. There was no way to not take it and look like I wasn't being a jerk, though. The last thing I wanted was to make myself look like an asshole in front of Dante. Conceding, I raised my chin in regal disregard and grasped his palm.
My clammy hand met his cool, dry one and I froze. Like a deer in the headlights. Like a mouse in the corner of the basement, staring up at a big, Cheshire-grinning cat. I had never had the need to touch Gavin before, nor any reason for him to touch me. It was creepy, weird, and wrong, but for some reason, it was also strangely nice. He had perfect hands, with thick, long fingers and a strong grip.
With all the effort of a cat picking up a kitten, he pulled me out of the chopper and made sure I was standing before he let me go. "Forget how to walk, doll?"
I kept my eyes on Dante and Aaron, watching them walk toward some approaching figures. "Fuck you."
He snorted a laugh. "No, thanks. I'm a top. How about I fuck you?"
I watched him join Dante and Aaron, seething with the burning fury of a thousand fiery suns.
God, I hated him.
