Boys and Girls, Part IV: Why I Love to Hate You

Chapter 13 – Trinity Falls, Texas

Tristan was not in a good mood. He stared out the of his window seat on the plane as it taxied down the runway at Dallas/Ft. Worth. He hadn’t slept very well the previous evening because he had been consumed with thoughts of how he was going to kill his beloved.

Tristan had wanted sex last night, and Jacy had refused, citing fatigue. Tristan knew that Jacy was still miffed about their marriage talk, but he didn’t understand why she couldn’t set aside her differences for one night and just have a great time. Tristan didn’t understand why Jacy was making such a big deal out of their earlier discussion. Jacy hadn’t spoken to him once after their talk, and she hadn’t uttered a single word during their flight to Dallas. Tristan thought about apologizing, but he didn’t really know what to apologize over. He had told the damn truth – that he wasn’t ready for marriage. What was the crime in that? For the most part, Tristan had kept his own mouth shut. He could play this game too.

****

“Here we are,” the cabbie announced as Tristan and Jacy approached a huge white mansion, complete with Corinthian columns and a cobblestone driveway. It was a two-story building bedecked by Classical architecture and adorned by ivy that crept around the columns in sensuous lines. Jacy almost fainted at the sight of Tristan’s home.

Tristan urged her out, and as they exited the cab, all Jacy could do was continue to stare at the mammoth-sized home. She heard the trunk of the cab open. Two sets of luggage were plopped on the ground before the trunk closed again. She turned briefly to catch Tristan paying the cab driver. Jacy walked back over to her luggage, but Tristan picked both up and gestured for her to move toward the house.

Jacy sighed. He still wasn’t talking to her. She wasn’t that surprised. The weird dynamic between Tristan and herself flip-flopped back and forth from the aggressive to the passive. It was wildly unhealthy, yet Jacy didn’t know exactly what to do about it.

Jacy slowly followed Tristan up the front steps. He turned to her. “Ring the doorbell.”

Great, she thought. That’s the most he’s said to me this entire trip. Jacy glumly located the doorbell and pushed it. The chime was All-American, and Jacy just loved it.

The door was opened by a younger, taller, but less-built replica of Tristan. He was clad in a gray t-shirt and his boxers, and his light blonde hair – which was a little longer – stuck up everywhere. He looked sleepy, as if he had just woken up. “Who’s there?”

“Shut up, and help me with these bags, asshole,” Tristan joked. The younger Tristan replica – most definitely one of his brothers – laughed before taking Jacy’s bag from Tristan. Tristan held the door open for Jacy, and she proceeded inside.

Tristan’s brother set Jacy’s bag down in the main hallway of their home. He turned around and extended his hand to Jacy. “Hey, I’m Gareth.”

“Jacy,” she answered shyly.

Gareth smiled at Jacy’s modesty, and dimples identical to Tristan’s popped up on Gareth’s face. God, do these boys ever turn it off?

Jacy felt Tristan’s presence over her. “When’d you get home?” he asked his younger brother.

“Last night,” Gareth answered.

“Where’s Mom and Dad?”

“Dad’s still asleep. Mom went to get some things for breakfast. I don’t think she expected you guys ‘til later.”

Jacy appeared apologetic, but Gareth noticed it right away and reassured her. “It’s all right though. As long as you can wait until my mom gets home to eat a good old-fashioned breakfast ‘cause the Carter men can’t cook to save their lives,” he added with a wink.

Jacy smiled, ignoring the fact that Tristan was rolling his eyes. Tristan grabbed Jacy’s bag again and began traversing the long hallway.

“Get some sleep,” he told his brother.

“All right,” Gareth answered, with a salute. “I’ll see you two a little later.” Gareth ascended the stairs and disappeared upstairs.

Tristan turned to Jacy and gestured with his head for her to follow him. Jacy was surprised to discover that Tristan was making his way completely across the first floor and out the back door. She looked behind her, confused. That’s when she noticed the house.

It was a tiny summerhouse located in the huge Carter family yard. It was almost a miniature version of the mansion, complete with Classical adornments and winding ivy vines. Tristan walked in front of Jacy the entire time. He left the door open behind him once he had entered.

The inside of the house was quaint and cozy, just like the main mansion. To her right was a modest den area. Straight ahead was a short hallway that led to a kitchen. To the left was a bedroom. Jacy glimpsed a bathroom further into the bedroom and noticed that Tristan had already plopped both of their bags on the carpet next to the bed. He had also already settled his long, lean body on the bed – his arm draped over his eyes. Jacy remained nervously in her spot in the doorway.

The truth was that Jacy was brimming with awe and curiosity. She couldn’t believe the size of Tristan’s home and the fact that he had another little home all to himself. She also wanted to learn more about his family before she met the rest of them. But if Tristan wasn’t talking to her, then she didn’t want to be the first one to cave either.

She lingered in the doorway a few seconds longer before entering the bedroom. Jacy walked to her bag and retrieved the necessary essentials for her shower. She may as well make use of her time alone.

She slowly tiptoed into the washroom and closed the door behind her. Jacy unpacked her toiletteries and stripped down before stepping into the bathtub and turning the water on. Hot water shot out and tamed Jacy’s nervousness.

She hadn’t expected Tristan’s brother to look so much like him. They seemed to get along real well, which made Jacy feel a tad jealous. She wished that she was as close to her sisters. She massaged some of Tristan’s expensive shampoo into her scalp and thought about the eventual visit to her mother’s that was coming up.

As part of their deal, Tristan had agreed to visit Jacy’s family during the second half of their spring break. Jacy wasn’t too worried. Her mother was the sweetest woman alive, and even though her sisters were a pain in the butt most of the time, she still loved them. But Jacy was growing more and more concerned about the impending meeting every second she was at the Carter residence. Everything about Tristan, his family, and his home seemed to scream classic Americana. They were the model American family with sociable and popular sons. In other words, they were the antithesis to Jacy’s family.

Jacy squeezed some conditioner into her hand as the excess shampoo rinsed out of her hair. She began rubbing it into her scalp when a sudden rush of chilly air swept past her naked body. She turned just as Tristan pulled the shower curtain aside. He was already stripped down, standing in his full naked glory.

Jacy screamed.

Tristan didn’t even flinch. He managed to look unashamed and gorgeous at the same time. He merely regarded Jacy as if she were nuts. He stepped into the hot shower and pulled the curtain back close. Jacy instinctively moved backward, keeping her eyes on Tristan the entire time.

“I thought you were sleeping,” she snapped, as conditioner washed down the sides of her face. Tristan ignored her and began shampooing his hair. Jacy watched in fascination as soapy water trickled down Tristan’s face onto his glorious chest past his tight abs to…

Whoa. Jacy distracted herself by grabbing her lufa and squeezing shower gel onto it. As she began lathering it on herself, her eyes flew back to Tristan, who was rubbing pricey conditioner through his short, blonde hair. Jacy watched him quickly rinse it out before nonchalantly reaching past her for the bar of soap. She was in mid-lather when Tristan’s warm and wet skin touched hers; she stupidly dropped her lufa in response to the contact.

Tristan bent down to retrieve it and casually handed it back to Jacy. He continued to wash with his bar of soap, while Jacy continued to lather the lufa over her body. Now, she wasn’t keeping her eyes on Tristan’s face, but rather, on his hot, tight male body. Drops of steaming water ran down his musculature, clinging to his chiseled flesh.

Jacy turned around, so that she was facing the head of the bathtub. She needed to take some deep breaths to calm her aroused nerves. She awkwardly reached the lufa over her shoulder to wash her back but just could not get a good scrub going in the middle of her back.

Without warning, Jacy felt the lufa being pulled out of her hands. She looked over her shoulder to see Tristan scrubbing her entire back with the soapy sponge. It was an eternally sweet gesture. She hadn’t asked him to do it, but he had been paying attention to her this entire time, after all.

That’s when she heard the loud thwack of the sponge as it hit the ground. She barely had a chance to turn her head to investigate when she felt Tristan’s large, strong body looming over her smaller form. He leaned over her from behind and reached between her legs.

“What are you doing?” Jacy demanded indignantly.

Tristan didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed his hardening cock in his hand and pushed Jacy over a little so that her ass stuck up in the air. Jacy gasped as she grabbed onto the tile wall for support. She felt his stiff rod run up and down her smooth folds.

Then, he entered her.

Jacy whimpered at the unexpected intrusion. She hadn’t been given enough time to be prepared for the invasion of Tristan’s engorged cock into her tight pussy. He pushed into her inch by inch, and when he was fully embedded inside of her, Tristan leaned over and began rubbing Jacy’s clit. She screamed in sudden pleasure, and all of a sudden, Jacy was on the brink of something wonderful.

Tristan continued to stroke her small bud as he pumped in and out of her cunt. Hot water continued to spray from the shower and pound their skin with its delicious therapeutic heat. Tristan’s pumping grew faster and faster. Meanwhile, Jacy’s climax was approaching more and more quickly. Her cries of pleasure grew in a pulse-pounding crescendo as Tristan’s thrusts grew faster and harder. And then…

She shattered into a million pieces. Jacy’s scream echoed within the confines of the shower. She collapsed against the wall for support, but Tristan gripped her around her waist. He wasn’t quite finished yet.

As Jacy desperately held onto the wall for support, Tristan shoved into her three more times before uttering a primal roar and pulling himself out of her. Jacy could hear the sound of his cock being stroked behind her. Within seconds, she felt Tristan’s warm seed on her lower back. She didn’t care that she would have to take another shower anyway. She held onto the wall in front of her, trying to catch her breath. She felt the warmth of Tristan’s body gradually desert her from behind.

When Jacy had finally caught her breath, she slowly turned her head over her left shoulder. Tristan was leaning back against the opposite wall, regarding Jacy with wild eyes. He also appeared to be catching his breath. Jacy eventually found the strength to move. As she felt the hot water wash away the remains of Tristan’s come off of her lower back, Jacy turned the water off and slowly willed herself to turn around and face Tristan.

As usual, a devilish, triumphant grin was crossing his wildly handsome features.

****

Jacy sheepishly entered the kitchen of the Carters’ mansion as Tristan held the door open for her. After the memorable morning shower, Tristan had dragged her into the bedroom for an extended round of hot sex. Even though they were upset with each other, the sex still managed to be hot as hell, and it was safe to say that both had eventually managed to break their vow of silence toward the other. Jacy felt sore, but she didn’t want to make a bad impression on Tristan’s family, so she plastered the biggest smile she could force on her face.

A short woman who was standing near the stove, flipping pancakes, turned at the sound of the back door opening. This woman looked nothing like Tristan or Gareth. She was a few inches shorter than Jacy, with light brown hair, which cascaded past her shoulders in waves, and large brown eyes. She wore a pink silk blouse over elegant, black slacks. She was clearly older but still very beautiful, nonetheless. Her chocolate brown eyes sparkled at the sight of her son and his guest.

“There you two are!” She scooped the cooked pancakes onto a plate and wiped her hands on her apron as she made her way toward Tristan and Jacy. “Gimme a hug.”

Jacy looked over and saw Tristan roll his eyes good-humoredly before walking into his mother’s arms. They embraced, and he was able to lift her completely off the ground with minimal effort. The hug lasted for a good thirty seconds, which was a completely foreign concept to Jacy. Sure, she and her mother hugged but never for very long.

Once they had pulled back, Tristan’s mother ran her hands through Tristan’s hair and clucked her tongue. “It’s getting longer again.”

“No it’s not!” Tristan protested. “I want to grow it back to the way it was.”

Tristan’s mother regarded him with mock disapproval before turning her attention to Jacy. Jacy shifted slightly. Oh boy…she had heard horror stories of boyfriends’ mothers who did everything in their power to drive away the girlfriend. Jacy braced herself.

And got a hug instead.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Jacy,” Tristan’s mother squeaked into Jacy’s hair.

Jacy wasn’t able to immediately react to the hug, but she soon got the gist of it and wrapped her arms around Tristan’s mother.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” a low voice grumbled from the kitchen doorway. Jacy turned to find, this time, an older replica of Tristan and Gareth wearing a white terrycloth bathrobe over blue pajamas and a scowl on his face. He was about the same height as Tristan with the same emotive blue eyes, but this older man’s hair was clearly graying, and he packed a little more weight around his middle. Still, he was pretty handsome for a man his age. He had to be Tristan’s father. “Cynthia, if you start hugging all our guests to death before they’ve had a chance to settle in, then they’re never going to want to come back,” Tristan’s father complained.

“Oh, you shut that mouth,” his mother scolded in good humor as she pulled back from the hug. “Why are you down here anyway? I said breakfast wouldn’t be ready for another twenty minutes.”

Tristan’s father walked toward his wife and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “I thought I’d get a head start,” he answered, with the characteristic Carter male smirk.

Tristan’s mother arched an eyebrow. “Meaning you wanna finish off the bacon before your boys have a go at it.”

“Don’t be taking words out of my mouth, darlin’,” he replied with a smug grin.

Jacy couldn’t help it. She laughed at the exchange between Tristan’s parents. She hadn’t remembered her parents ever acting this way toward each other. It was an entirely novel concept to her to have parents fight and not really mean it. She felt Tristan wrap an understanding arm around her shoulder and pull her into him.

Tristan’s father turned to Jacy at the sound of her laughter and extended a hand. “Boyd Carter.”

“Jacy…Hewitt.” Jacy had added her last name to the introductions without knowing it. Tristan’s father just smiled – and Jacy now knew who Tristan had inherited those dimples from – and turned to his son.

“She’s cute.”

Jacy blushed, prompting Tristan’s father to smile again. Tristan’s father kissed his wife once more before turning around and clapping his hands once in anticipation. “What else you got going beside the cakes and bacon, Cyndi?”

Cynthia looked at Boyd disapprovingly. “For you…grapefruit.”

Boyd’s features fell. “Aww Cyndi…have a heart, would ya?”

Jacy felt Tristan urging her forward. They ended up taking the two seats on either side of Boyd. The entire table had been set. A large pitcher of milk and what looked to be freshly squeezed orange juice sat on the table. There was also a small dish of jam and a tub of butter set out on the family’s lazy Susan. As Cynthia started the eggs and what smelled like hash browns, Jacy saw Gareth and another Carter male walk into the kitchen sleepily.

“Morning,” Gareth called out to everyone. He winked at Jacy over Tristan’s shoulder, and she giggled. The second figure made eye contact with Jacy, as well, and smiled. He immediately walked over to her and extended a polite hand.

“I’m Darren.”

Jacy stood up and shook his hand. “Jacy.”

He smiled again. He had dimples just like his father and brothers, and his clear blue eyes reminded her of Tristan, as well. But unlike the others, Darren had light brown hair like his mother. He moved to sit next to Jacy but stopped when Gareth beat him to it. Darren frowned at his older brother who just plastered a smug grin on his face. Darren trudged over to the seat next to his oldest brother, instead.

Cynthia scooped servings of everything she had made that morning onto everyone’s plates. Jacy had volunteered to help several times, but Cynthia just scoffed at the idea of a guest in her home doing work. Jacy enjoyed the show that ensued after Cynthia had denied her husband any bacon and offered him a omelet comprised entirely of egg whites, citing that his cholesterol was too high.

Eventually, Cynthia sat down and led the family in saying grace. She thanked the lord for their bounty and blessed God to have all her boys around her. This time, she also thanked God for bringing Jacy into their life, and Jacy’s heart leapt. No one had ever called her existence a blessing before.

As they ate, Jacy mostly listened to everyone else’s conversation. Boyd and Gareth seemed interested in asking Tristan a lot about the upcoming draft, while Cynthia continued to dote on her now-youngest son. He resisted her attempts at coddling like any red-blooded sixteen-year-old, and it warmed Jacy’s heart. She had been so worried about coming to Trinity Falls that she never, for once, considered how difficult it was going to be to want to leave.

****

A/N: I dream about marrying into a family like this someday. **Sigh**