Taboo Read online

  “Zach!”

  Zach laughed in delight as he caught the small woman who’d launched herself into his arms as soon as she neared him.

  “Hey, baby,” he said hugging the tiny woman closer to him and lifting her off her feet. Margaret flung her arms around his neck and squealed in glee when he swung her around a few times.

  “I’ve missed you so much! Why are you so late?”

  “Flight delay and traffic,” Zach said as he set Margaret down on the floor.

  “Excuses. Anyway, you’re here now. Come, sit with us,” Margaret said, turning on her heel to lead him over to the long table.

  “Margaret, you do realize I don’t need to sit with the kids?” Zach hadn’t moved, and tugged Margaret back. She stumbled against him, but Zach caught her, making his parents and Tristan laugh at her exuberance.

  “But, Zach! I’ve not seen you in ages. I want you to sit beside me,” Margaret stopped, turned around and stomped her foot in an attempt to convince Zach into giving in.

  “Look, baby,” Zach said, amused at her childish display of temper. “I spoke to you just last night, and you and Giles came over to see me two weeks ago. Now, I’ve not seen Mom or Dad for over a month, and your dad for five years. Let me sit with them tonight while you go make plans with Tita Amanda.”

  Margaret’s lips twisted in a show of displeasure. “You mean listen to her make plans. Okay, I’ll let you go, but you owe me. See you later, promise?”

  Zach stooped down to kiss her on her cheek and pat her head. “Yes, I promise. Now let me go and visit with the parents and eat.” He watched Margaret walk back to the long table.

  “I’m hungry. Be right back,” he said turning to his mother. “Mom, do you want anything? Dad?”

  “Yes, a slice of that lemon meringue pie. I have a sudden craving for something tart,” Joanna said as she sat into her chair once more.

  Jonathan laughed low, his voice a deep rumble in his chest. “Hon, you always go for the lemon meringue. Admit it. You’re addicted to the pie.”

  Joanna slapped his arm half-heartedly. “Just leave me and my pie alone.”

  Zach smiled at the obvious love between his parents. He didn’t remember his biological father, who’d never bothered to see or connect with him over the years. He didn’t mind. To him, Jonathan Parker was his dad, while the other one had just been a sperm donor.

  Joanna was a slight morena Filipina who’d come to the United States with her four-year-old son on a tourist visa and never went back. She’d escaped her abusive former husband, who’d liked to think of her as a punching bag. Joanna’s parents, fearing for their daughter and grandson’s safety after Joanna had lost her second child and been hospitalized for a week, managed to raise enough money to purchase two one-way tickets and three months’ pocket money.

  Joanna had wasted no time upon their arrival to the strange country and applied for the first job she’d read in an ad in a newspaper. One interview later, she became the live-in nanny for Mr. and Mrs. Tristan Maxfield’s two children and was permitted to bring along her son. Tristan had said at that time that Zach’s presence would be good for Margaret as a playmate, seeing they were both the same age.

  Jonathan had come to join them for dinner one night and met Joanna. It was love at first sight for the man and he didn’t waste time courting her. Joanna didn’t agree to a date until a year later, fearing what people would say about her going out with a man, since she was still technically married. Amanda had threatened to fire Joanna when she’d learned Joanna was dating Jonathan, but Tristan firmly told her to be quiet. Although she did, Amanda never failed to make Joanna feel her disapproval.

  It took two years with Jonathan and Tristan’s help for Joanna to work out an annulment back in the Philippines. Once the papers were finally signed, Jonathan didn’t waste time to marry her and then legally adopt Zach. The one regret Zach knew Joanna had from her marriage to Jonathan was her inability to give him children. Thankfully, Jonathan looked to Zachary as his own son.

  “I’ll go with you,” Tristan said when Zach turned to leave.

  Zach gave a start, but didn’t say anything, glancing at Tristan from the corner of his eye as they walked toward the buffet table. He wanted to say something, but suddenly felt nervous. Tristan pointed to where the plates were set and their shoulders brushed. Their gazes met and held for an instant before Tristan looked away. Zach fought to control his breathing as he followed Tristan at a slower pace.

  Although they didn’t speak, they both went through the offerings on the table and piled their plates. When Zach got the pie for his mom, Tristan tilted his head toward their table. Walking beside Tristan, he carefully took a sniff, taking in the unique scent that was Tristan. He’d wanted, no—loved—Tristan for way too long, and wanted to get him to bed as soon as he could, but he refused to think about a one-night stand. One night might sound appealing, as he would be with Tristan, but he’d set his mind on forever in his plans. One night was never going to be enough. The question was how to go about it.

  Amanda was sitting with his parents when they both walked back to the table, their hands holding plates of food and Joanna’s dessert. She’d been a beautiful woman once. Unfortunately years of alcohol abuse, bleached hair and salon sun-tanning had resulted in leathery, wrinkled skin stretched tight from two face lifts and countless Botox injections. Zach fought to fight the frown forming on his forehead—he didn’t want to trigger the woman’s famous temper, and his presence usually did that if the past were to be based on. He didn’t want that to happen, not tonight. Looking her over under his lashes, he felt pity for her sorry attempts to look younger.

  “Amanda decided to join us,” Jonathan said dryly. It was his way to excuse her unwanted presence. Thankfully, Amanda looked too inebriated to notice Joanna’s mask of civility.

  “I’m here to invite Zach over to Giles’ bachelor party, or would you prefer to go to Margaret’s?” Zach’s parents and Tristan frowned in annoyance at her words, but she either didn’t see their expressions or if she did, ignored them. “The kids told me there are strippers involved, though I’m not sure if the strippers are male or female.”

  “I’m tired, Tita Amanda,” Zach said before he began eating the greens at the tip of his fork. “In any case, strippers were never my thing.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me Tita? I’m not your aunt, nor will I ever be. I don’t know what it is about you Filipinos calling everyone Tita.”

  Zach chewed on his food carefully, keeping his face blank of expression. He didn’t bother forming a reply, either. He’d heard her say those words over the years and had learned to ignore them. One thing was certain—he couldn’t stand the woman. Inexplicable jealousy fired through his body at the images of Tristan having sex with her before he realized how idiotic he was for doing so. He kept quiet and continued to eat.

  “Amanda, you know Tita is a form of respect,” Joanna said in a patient tone, although her hands betrayed her agitation the way they tugged on the tablecloth. “It’s a cultural thing. Either you call your elders Tita and Tito or everyone will assume you have no respect for them.” She never tired explaining things to Amanda. Zach didn’t understand where his mother’s patience came from. Left to him, he’d call Amanda Bitch with a capital B.

  “How about you, Tristan?” Amanda ignored Joanna’s explanation with a dismissive wave of her hand. She didn’t even bother looking her way, snubbing her presence completely. Jonathan’s face darkened with obvious displeasure at the lack of respect for his wife and he shifted in his chair. He opened his mouth, looking as though he was about to say something, but Joanna stopped him by laying a beautifully manicured hand on his forearm.

  “Thanks for the invite, Amanda, but no. Let the kids have their fun,” Tristan said, as he speared a ricotta and spinach stuffed manicotti. He didn’t look at her when he spoke.

  “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to miss out on so
me of those gorgeous, young, muscled bodies, naked and oiled—”

  “Shut up, Amanda.” Tristan’s sharp voice cut through her blatant insinuations. “Remember who you’re sitting with.”

  Amanda smirked before splaying her hands over the table to get up. “Then we’ll see you at the rehearsal tomorrow. Adios.” She pronounced the word a-dee-yos. Zach sighed in frustration. He never could figure out what Tristan had seen in her, or how she’d managed to bear children as awesome as Margaret and her brothers.

  “I forgot to ask,” Amanda said pausing mid-turn. “How’s life treating you, Zach? Not that anyone’s telling me anything.”

  “Oh, didn’t Mom and Dad tell you? I’m moving back in a few weeks. Now that I’ve gained some experience Upstate, Dad thought I should try it out at the firm, and I accepted. I’m hoping to join as soon I’ve found a place to stay.”

  “Huh.” Amanda rudely turned and left without another word. She was a truly obnoxious woman who lacked manners.

  How many drinks has she had already?

  Zach sighed, breathing out slowly to reign in his anger. He hated confrontations of any kind—quite ironic, given he was a lawyer. It was the distaste for arguments that had driven him to focus on estate planning, trust, and probate law. He found it satisfying helping people plan out their estate as a means of protecting themselves and their heirs in the event they became incapacitated. His expertise was something his father and Tristan wanted to improve their firm’s services, so they’d invited him three months before to join them.

  “I apologize,” Tristan said in a tight voice, stabbing his fork into his food as he spoke.

  Zach looked up sharply. “Whatever for? As far as I can recall, she’s acting true to form.”

  Tristan looked down at his plate. “Still, it bothers me when she acts like that. She knows it embarrasses everyone, including the kids, and still she does it.”

  “Hey, don’t let her get to you,” Zach said as he nudged on Tristan’s leg under the table.

  “Zach’s right, Tris.” Jonathan said. He wasn’t looking at them. He had his eyes set on the pie Joanna was eating quietly. Without saying anything, she offered him a spoonful of the tart dessert.

  Tristan continued to stab at the poor slice of manicotti. “I’m not letting her get to me.”

  “I never figured out what you saw in that bitch anyway,” Jonathan said as he took a sip from the drink in his hand.

  “Jon, shh... ” Joanna admonished in a hushed voice.

  “I don’t understand how you can be patient with her, either. She never fails to insult you,” Jonathan continued, turning to face Joanna.

  “I said, shh,” Joanna said. “Don’t talk about those things in public.”

  “I can talk what I want, when I want.”

  Zach watched Tristan’s fingers as he maneuvered his fork and knife. He didn’t pay attention to his parent’s argument, imagining, instead, the long fingers and manicured nails raking over his skin. Except the more he thought over what he’d said to comfort Tristan, the more he realized Amanda had somehow managed to get under his skin. His heart fell when he realized that whatever relationship he was going to pursue with Tristan would eventually result in a fallout with the woman, and eventually, Margaret and her brothers. Not to mention his parents.

  All of a sudden, Zach lost his appetite. He still felt hungry, but the thought of food made him gag. Maybe he wanted something to happen between him and Tristan too much. Bile rose in his throat and he set his utensils carefully to the side with a trembling hand. The headache he thought he’d gotten over now bloomed into the beginnings of a migraine. He needed to get out of there—needed to get out of the funk his thoughts had driven him to.

  “Mom, Dad, Tristan,” he said, interrupting his parent’s discussion. When the three looked at him, he made his excuses. “I’m feeling tired. The flight was more exhausting than I thought. I need to be in tiptop form if I’m to support Margaret tomorrow at the rehearsal and then the wedding. I think I should just go and get the so-called beauty sleep if I’m going to do justice to my role as her man of honor.”

  “Are you okay, ‘ta?” his mother asked her tone steeped with concern.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, Mom. As I said, I’m just tired. The flight was rough. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Agitated, he looked down when his eyelids began twitching involuntarily, somehow managing to stand without showing them how he really felt. He shook his father’s, then Tristan’s hands, kissed his mother on the cheek and successfully walked out of the private dining room calmly without breaking out in a run.

  * * * *

  Tristan frowned as he watched Zach leave in a hurry. Somehow he felt it was his fault, for groping him like that. What the hell had he been thinking of? He’d known the boy his whole life. Why did he feel like a dirty old man? It was obvious his little head was doing the thinking for him.

  Fuck!

  No like about it. He was a dirty old man. He was forty-nine, for crap sake. He’d stood there in front of his best friends and almost humped their son. Zach, thank God, had acted nonchalantly about it that time.

  Maybe he was just being polite?

  He’d always been courteous, even from a young age. It was all Tristan could do not to throw Zach over a table and fuck him. He couldn’t understand where these feelings were coming from. They were surprising in their intensity, something he’d never experienced before. He felt himself losing control and was frankly confused. He hoped his friends hadn’t noticed how his arm had lingered around Zach’s shoulders for longer than was respectable. Heart thundering, he somehow knew they had, they were just not saying anything.

  Damn!

  Then again, maybe they hadn’t seen him make the move. Would he be the quiet lover, or would he scream as he drilled into his hot ass?

  Oh my God, what the fuck! What the hell am I thinking?

  He took a deep breath through his nose, desperately trying to clear his mind from the chaos swirling within. One moment he was worrying over how his friends would react if they found out about where his imagination had gone, and the next he was having lust-filled thoughts about Zach.

  Wrapped up in his own thoughts, anxiously thinking of the possible ways to apologize to Zach without looking like a creep, he didn’t realize he’d been mindlessly moving the manicotti around on his plate. He looked up when Jon cleared his throat loudly. Jon tilted his head to the table and Tristan looked down. What once had been manicotti now resembled a blob of mess. He dropped his fork, then startled in surprise when soft arms unexpectedly hugged from behind. Turning on his seat, he saw it was Margaret. Joshua, Mark and Giles were standing behind her.

  “Dad, we’re going to the party now, okay?” Joshua said.

  “Oh.” Tristan blinked as he focused in on the present. “Is it that time already? Mark, are you going with them?” When Mark grinned and nodded, Tristan added, “Behave, you three, do you hear me? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Although Margaret and the boys rolled their eyes, they promised not to overdo their partying.

  “Dad, you do realize we’re, all of us, legally adults, right?” Joshua said with a laugh.

  “Yes, you and Margaret are. Mark, however, is not,” Tristan said, emphasizing in a strict, father-voice.

  “We’ll watch over him, promise. Now let us go! This is our last chance to convince Giles to make a run for it,” Joshua said, laughing and twisting on his feet as he tried to get away from Margaret’s long nails.

  “Get out of here,” Tristan said with a wave of amusement. “Mark, you’re not drinking. Period.”

  “Yes, Dad,” came the swift reply from his three children.

  “Wait! Where’s Zach?” Margaret turned to look around the rapidly emptying room.

  “Baby, he said he was tired and made his excuses, but he said he’ll definitely be there to stand by your side at the rehearsal tomorrow,” Joanna said with an indulgent smile at her former
wards.

  “He’s always making excuses! Okay, I’ll let him go this time. So, bye, we need to go or the entertainment will begin without us. Thanks for being here. Love you, Tita,” Margaret said as she leaned to hug then kiss Joanna on the cheek before turning to do the same to Tristan and Jonathan. Done, she turned to grab Giles’ hand.

  “Enjoy!” Joanna called out, and the four turned to wave before exiting the room.

  As his offspring went their way, Tristan realized he was going to be a grandfather soon. Well, as soon as Margaret got pregnant, that was. The insight managed to make him feel even more guilty thinking about a relationship with a younger man. His best friend’s son.

  “Hey, you mind if I go ahead? I’m kind of feeling tired myself,” he said, putting aside the table napkin.

  “You feeling okay there, buddy? Not feeling your age, are you?” Jonathan said.

  “Ha ha. Don’t even start, Jon. Look, I’m out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Go ahead. Joanna and I are going to an after-dinner show later. Are you sure you won’t join us?”

  “Very. I’ll see you two tomorrow, so don’t you two overdo it tonight.”

  As Tristan exited, he thought to pass by the concierge and maybe find out what room Zach was staying in.

  * * * *

  A quick query at the reception desk and, incredibly, he found out Zach’s room number, after presenting his ID. Now here he was, standing in front of his door, having no idea what his next move was going to be. Tristan raised a hand, knocked on the door and took a step back, placing his clenched hands inside his suit pockets. When the door opened a few seconds later he almost choked on his saliva. Zach stood in the doorway wearing nothing but a pair of silk pajama bottoms. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his eyes off the smooth chest, and carefully let it out as he took his fill in the vision before him.

  He couldn’t help admiring the lithe body bared before him. Zach’s skin was pale brown, the muscles cutting angles beneath it. All coherent thoughts fled his mind. Feelings of lust and need rose to the surface, making it difficult to breathe. He took a deep breath as waves of longing to touch the hard body made it difficult for him to control his composure. He gritted his teeth when Zach solved his problem for him.