Forbidden Bride Read online

  Forbidden Bride

  Penny Wylder

  Copyright © 2020 Penny Wylder

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.

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  Contents

  1. Tristan

  2. Nicola

  3. Nicola

  4. Tristan

  5. Nicola

  6. Tristan

  7. Nicola

  8. Nicola

  9. Tristan

  10. Nicola

  11. Nicola

  12. Tristan

  13. Nicola

  Epilogue

  Books By Penny Wylder

  1

  Tristan

  It feels like it’s been a decade since I’ve set foot in this bar, even though it hasn’t even been half that long. Almost four years to the day since I put all of my shit in my car and drove out of Leighton City without looking back.

  I honestly didn’t think that I’d ever be back here. The guilt and the temptation were too much, and I wasn’t going to be the kind of man that ruined a family. Ever.

  But these four years have taught me a lot, and life away from Leighton City never really panned out the way I hoped. I never lost touch with most of my friends, and all of them—especially Mark—never understood why I left in the first place. I never told them. I made up a story about needing to get out of town and having a good job offer and a million other little lies that made them ask fewer questions. But they probably all knew that it was bullshit. I’m glad they never found out the real reason that I left, even if it’s still going to cause me problems now.

  A little cliché, but I can’t do anything about that. I left town because of a girl.

  “Tristan!”

  I hear my name called from behind me. It’s Bruce himself, in the flesh. The hug I give my best friend is absolutely genuine. It’s been at least a couple years since I’ve seen him. Texts aren’t quite the same, and I’ve felt…strange acting like everything is the same. Because of Nicola.

  As Bruce embraces me, I’m pulled into the memory I’ve lived a thousand times over. The New Year’s party at Bruce’s house. A bonfire. Something we’d done a hundred times before, but I never knew how much it would change things. Nicola’s birthday is January first, but we always celebrated the night before.

  Nicola Thompson, Bruce’s daughter. That night was her eighteenth birthday.

  The familiar stab of guilt rests deep in my gut. I was a little drunk, and I went inside to get another drink. The kitchen was dark, and I found Nicola there. I hadn’t been looking for her, but it turns out that she had been looking for me.

  I’m not an idiot. I’d seen the way she looked at me when she thought I wouldn’t notice. The heat and yearning in her gaze. And I would be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed how beautiful she was. But I ignored it. Falling for Nicola—even thinking about her when she was underage and my best friend’s daughter—was never something that I was willing to do. I’ve seen what twenty year gaps can do to relationships and to a family, and I swore that I would never be a part of something like that.

  But that night was different.

  “Tristan,” she said, her voice soft.

  “Nicola, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She was illuminated by the light of the refrigerator as I opened it to grab another beer. The cooler outside was empty. “If you’re all right, then why are you hiding in here with all the lights out?”

  She laughed softly. “I’m not hiding. Just waiting.”

  “For what?” I asked. It was deliberate because I had a suspicion, but I wanted to make her say it.

  “For you.”

  I shook my head. “Nicola, I’m sorry—”

  “Before you say that we can’t, let me tell you some things,” she whispered, taking a step closer. “It’s midnight now. I’m eighteen and I’ve been waiting to say them.”

  It was then that I noticed what she was wearing—a dress. But not just any dress. It’s the same dress that she had been wearing earlier in the day before the sun set, and for the whole party. A little silver number that clung to her skin and curves in a way that could drive a man mad. It was clear there was nothing under it, and I had to avert my eyes from her body for fear that my mind would spin away from me in a way that I couldn’t control. We had talked about music and her plans for after the summer, the conversation casual and easy, aside from the fact that I had to avert my eyes.

  Then, with her only a foot away, there was nowhere else to look. Her body was perfect, curved in all the right places and covered in skin-tight cloth that left nothing to the imagination. In the semi-darkness of the kitchen, it appeared far dirtier. Something designed to tease and arouse. Something barely there. She did it on purpose, and it was working.

  Anyone would have had to be a madman not to have been turned on by the sight, and I am not a madman. My cock was harder than it’s ever been in my life, my brain suddenly recognizing that she was a woman. Legal. Someone I could look at as an equal, and fuck, both my body and my mind were interested in that.

  Nicola is fucking brilliant. We’ve always gotten along, her clever words and ideas pushing my mind despite the difference in age.

  And that night she was looking at me like I was the only person in the world. I was the flame that was giving her the light in her eyes. No one had ever looked at me like that—with utter lust and desire laced with a certainty that I felt in my gut.

  “I want you, Tristan.”

  “Nicola—”

  “No,” she said, placing a hand on my chest. I swear the heat of it burned right through my clothes. “Let me get this out. I want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time, and I’ve waited because I knew you would never look at me before tonight. But I want this.”

  She grabbed my hand, and I couldn’t move as she placed it between her legs. Her already tight skirt rode up her thighs, exposing even more perfect skin. She was a furnace and I wanted to burn with her. Nothing was blocking my access, and I could feel she was slick with desire.

  “Fuck, Nicola. You need to stop.” But somehow I couldn’t make myself move my fingers anywhere but closer, and the little gasp of breath when I moved them made me even harder. Made me think about the fact that I could still hear her parents and our friends just outside and that anyone could walk in at any moment. And I still couldn’t move my hand away.

  “No,” she said. “You need to see how much I want you. I can’t be around you without losing my mind, Tristan. I am so in love with you.”

  I shook my head. “You’re eighteen.”

  “Don’t try to tell me that I don’t know what I want,” she says, breathless as she moves closer, grasping my wrist and keeping my fingers locked against her pussy. “I’ve watched you my whole life, and I know what kind of man you are. You’re a good one. Kind to a fault, and honest. Not to mention so hot that you make my clothes practically melt off. And now that I’m allowed to say it, I want to. I want you to be my first.”

  I swear my cock jumped so hard that my zipper left an impression in my skin. It had never occurred to me that she would still be a virgin, a girl like her who’s utterly amazing. And of course I would never ask. But the thought of her being untouched, and the image of her laid out underneath me, pure and waiting for me to be the one to teach her almost made me take her right then
and there, damn the consequences.

  In that minute I didn’t care that she was my best friend’s daughter or that we were mere feet from being discovered. All I wanted was to taste her and to feel her against me. I wrapped my fingers behind her neck and pulled her to me, closing the distance and covering her lips with mine.

  Her moan made me blind, and I swear I abandoned all reason. Her body fit to mine with soft perfection, her curves pressing exactly where I wanted them to go. My hand was moving on its own, pushing further into her wetness and stroking her heat. But not inside—not yet. I found her clit and rubbed my thumb across it, feeling it swell under my attention. Fucking hell. The way her body was reacting like it was made for mine was intoxicating.

  Nicola pulled away from me, gasping at my fingers’ attention, and her dark hair fell across her eyes in the sexiest way. “Your cock isn’t all I want, Tristan,” she breathed, the little hitch in her breath the most gorgeous thing I’d ever heard. “I want your cock to be the only one I ever feel inside me. To let you fuck me until your name is the only one that I remember. I want to be your wife. I want you to put your babies in my belly so that you’re inside me. You are my forever. I don’t care how long I have to wait. I already know that you’re the one for me.”

  I remember going still, the images she painted unfolding in front of me easily. Like they were already there in my head waiting for me to call on them. I envisioned taking her for the first time, binding the two of us together forever in that way. I saw a ring on her finger and the two of us entwined in the sheets at sunrise with coffee. It all seemed so easy and natural that my breath went short in my chest. And I pulled away. Even though it felt like the hardest thing I had ever done.

  Because that couldn’t happen. Ever.

  “Nicola, we can’t,” I said.

  All she did was smile. “Like I said, I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

  She kissed me again, hard and fierce, and left me standing in that kitchen alone, wondering how it was possible that my world was turned upside down in less than ten minutes.

  And I knew that if I didn’t leave, that I would give in. I wouldn’t be able to resist those images of us together. Everything unfolded with perfect clarity in front of me, and I felt it in my gut. I had to leave or I would ruin everything. Bruce would despise me, and he was the best friend that I’d ever had. And I wasn’t about to destroy their family because I couldn’t keep my dick in check. Lord knows I’ve seen enough of that happening in my life.

  So I left. The next day. I was gone before anyone even knew. But now I’m back, because it didn’t work out. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about Nicola, even though I never returned her calls. I saw how she matured from afar, and it only made me want her more. And one day, I finally had enough.

  She said that she’d wait for me. I’m back to find out if she was telling the truth. I wasn’t ready before. I am now. And I’ve come back to make Nicola Thompson mine.

  Obviously I can’t tell Bruce yet. Not until I know if she even still wants me. But he’ll know eventually. I can’t stay away from her now, and if she’s as serious as she claimed to be, he’s going to see it between us soon enough. I hope that our friendship can survive it.

  Bruce pulls back and claps me on the shoulder. “It’s really good to see you, Tristan. About time you came back from wherever you were.”

  I roll my eyes and smile. “You know where I went. It’s not like I was that far away. Only a few hours’ drive.”

  We walk to the bar, and Bruce lifts his hand to the bartender to get us some beers. He shrugs. “You know how things are around here, man. A few hours may as well be oblivion.”

  He’s right. It’s the way it’s always been down here in the south. You are where you are. Your life is where you live and you don’t travel unless you have to. It’s why I knew that I could escape without moving across the country. “Fair point.”

  Bruce slides me a beer and offers me a cheer. “But you’re back now. For good, I hope?”

  “That’s the plan,” I say. “I missed your ugly face too much to stay away forever. How are things going?” Bruce has been so busy it’s been a while since we’ve really talked. That’s something that I’m hoping to change now that I’m back.

  “Things are amazing,” he says. “Brought Nicola on to be my new flavor creator, and business has never been better. Would have done it as soon as she graduated from culinary school if I realized what a genius for flavor she was. She’s going to be twenty-two in a couple days. Shit.” He takes a sip of his beer. “When did that happen? And you better be at that party. You know she and her mother won’t forgive you if you’re not.”

  “I’ll be there,” I say. As for his statement, I know when it happened. While I was watching from afar and losing too much time. She grew into a woman even more beautiful than the one that told me how much she wanted me.

  Bruce owns an ice cream company that’s considered the best in the region. And I’ve noticed in the past year they’ve been putting out new flavors like crazy, and they get a lot of press because the flavors are completely unique and addictive. I’ve tried all of them.

  I’m not at all surprised that Nicola is the brains behind it. She’s always had a gift for food, and based on the passion with which she spoke about culinary school, I always knew that she would be successful. “That’s good to hear,” I tell Bruce.

  “I thought the reason you might have called me so soon after getting into town for drinks was to ask me for a job,” he laughs.

  It wasn’t the only reason. I was hoping that maybe we could broach the subject more naturally than this, though. Just something to help me get started in Leighton City again. But before I can explain myself, Bruce laughs and claps me on the shoulder again. “And you don’t even have to ask. I’ve got something for you. In fact, you’re pretty much the perfect person for the job.”

  I almost choke on my beer. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. You’ve always been able to sell anything to anyone, and my head of marketing just went to my main competitor.” He rolls his eyes. “Nicola is coming up with these flavors faster than I can keep up with, and I need to expand our distribution in order to keep up. I’m thinking of doing regional lines and limited edition runs. And I think you might be the guy for the job. Plus, Nicola will be able to help you get settled in, so you won’t be thrown in with complete strangers. It’s perfect.”

  It is perfect, but not for the reason that Bruce thinks it is. He’s unwittingly handed me absolutely everything that I want. And yeah, that job seems totally up my alley. Marketing is my field, and with a product like ice cream, there’s almost an infinite number of things that you can do. Plus, they’re all fun. “Jesus, Bruce,” I say. “Thank you.”

  He waves a hand. “Don’t even mention it. Show up at the place tomorrow and we’ll get things squared away. Now tell me what the hell you’ve been doing and why I shouldn’t call the guys to kick your ass for disappearing on us for no reason?”

  I put on a smile and laugh. “I had my reasons, Bruce.”

  “Sure you did.” He rolls his eyes. “Start at the beginning, please.”

  Taking a deep breath, I put the instinct that only wants to think of Nicola aside. That can come later. Instead I focus on telling Bruce what I can, without telling him too much.

  2

  Nicola

  I add another drop of basil into the custard sample and taste it. Dammit, it’s still not right. When I thought of the orange-basil combination, I didn’t think that the balance would be so delicate. But getting the right strength of citrus with the aromatic punch of basil without creating any weird after-taste has been tricky. I’ll get it though. I always do.

  Every time I run into a snag I make a point of reminding myself that I love this job. I do. Never in my life did I think my dad would let me mess with Thompson’s ice cream, but so far, it’s turned out better than I ever could have imagined.

  Granted, I spend
more of my time than I’d like running focus groups to test the flavors, but that’s the price I have to pay. If I had my way, I’d lock myself up in this lab for hours and just create all the flavors that pop into my head, no matter how random.

  But I have one of those focus groups right now. It’s not going to go well. Because if I can tell that the flavor isn’t right, the people that we’re asking to test it aren’t going to like it. But I add the variation to the computer so it can create the samples for our group. Hopefully I’ll be able to nail down this formula in the next couple of days, and the next focus group that we have will give us a thumbs up. I don’t like to get stuck on something for as long as I’ve been stuck on this.

  I can feel this one though—whenever I have a winning flavor on my hands, I get this sense in my gut that it’s going to be popular. This flavor gives me that feeling. The formula is so close that I can almost taste it.

  Except for not literally, because I still haven’t gotten it right. Fuck.

  I hang my lab coat on the rack and straighten the dress I’ve put on for the group today. One benefit of being the flavor creator here is that I can wear whatever I like. I don’t have to wear a uniform or any kind of business attire. So I get to be me. Which most often is pretty and feminine. Flowing with bright colors and clean, clear lines. Even if it is January and not really the kind of weather for what I’m wearing, I need a little taste of summer in my life.

  Today I’m wearing a blue maxi dress that’s always made me feel whimsical. It helps my mood, and I’ve found that leaning into the mystery and glamor of being a ‘flavor creator’ when I do the focus groups helps. For some reason being the quirky and mysterious woman who invents ice cream flavors makes our participants more willing to help.