Promises (10 page)

She lifted her fork and quietly began to eat.
 
Being an honest person, current situation not included, she prepared herself to tell him the truth about his cooking.
 
But once the first bite passed her teeth, words escaped her.
 
She’d never tasted anything so wonderful in her life.
 
Well as far as omelets went.
 
She could feel him snatching looks at her while they ate.
 
Why was her opinion so important to him?
 
Surely he’d cooked for other people.
 
Other women.

The bite of food stuck in her throat.
 
Jealous over other women.
 
She had to be certifiable.

“You don’t like it,” he said.

She looked up at his sad, dark puppy-dog eyes.
 
Oh, great.
 
Not that too?
 
She smiled in light of her increasing worry.
 
“It’s very good.”

His brow crinkled up, and his eyes turned bright and expectant.
 
“You’re not just saying that, I mean, you really like it?”
 

Oh, well.
 
She would have to add adorable to her list of ways to describe him.
 
“Yes, I like it.
 
I like it very much.
 
I guess you could say I love it.
 
Where did you learn to cook like this?”

A broad smile spread across his scruffy face.
 
Images of him cleanly shaven flashed in her mind’s eye.
 
He’d be even harder to resist.

“I’ve taken a couple of classes here and there, but mostly I learned from my mom.
 
She loves to cook.”

“Tell me about your mother.”
 
She cringed inwardly at the wistfulness in her voice.
 
The loss of her parents when she was barely eight had radically changed her life.
 
She hated that she missed the things other little girls did with their mothers.
 

She cleared her throat and poked at her food.
 
“It sounds like you have a good relationship with her,” she said, hoping she’d managed to lighten her tone.

“Yeah, I do, but I guess that’s because I’m her only son.
 
I’ve got four sisters.
 
Two in front and two behind.
 
So, I guess she sort of doted on me over the years.”

“That’s a pretty big family.
 
I have
—
I have an older brother.”
 
Should she have said that?
 
Would he begin to suspect who she was?

“Do you and your brother have a good relationship?”

She smiled a genuine smile.
 
“Yes.
 
Although he can be exasperating.”

Travis chuckled.
 
“Hey, that’s a big brother’s job.”

They laughed and talked for almost an hour as they ate, sharing stories of their youth, some of which she knew he’d already heard as she had his.
 
Yet they each managed to leave out any telling information about their true identities.
   

As he told another tale, she wove his words into the many stories Jason had told her about the Reid household.
 
How his mother would worry over the two of them, saying they needed to be fattened up.
 
How Travis’ sisters would fuss and tease them about their single status.
 

Jason talked a lot about the large family.
 
The kind of family she and Jason had always wanted.
 
Their grandfather had done a wonderful job raising them after their parents died, but it wasn’t the same.
 
There were no big family get-togethers or holiday visits.
 
No family reunions with a lot of boisterous relatives.
 
It was just the three of them in their quiet little house on their quiet little street.
 

When Jason had written her from training camp and told her about Travis, she was thrilled he’d found someone he could share so many things with.
 
Someone who could give him a little of what they missed when they were kids.
 
Someone he could trust.

“Hey, are you all right?”

Lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed his hand on top of hers on the table.
 
No, not thought.
 
Lost in a quagmire of lies and deceit.
 
“I have to tell you
—
”

Rocky nudged her elbow, interrupting her.

“Ugh, does he have to do that?”
 
Grimacing, Travis pulled his hand away.

She looked at Rocky and the drool hanging from his drooping jowls.
 
With a small smile, she got up, retrieved his towel and cleaned his face.
 
“Sorry.
 
It’s a mastiff trait.
 
Especially when there’s food around.”

“It’s so
—
” he started to say, then shuddered.

“I know.
 
Believe me.
 
I know.”
 
She laughed softly.
 

Glad her furry friend had interrupted her confession, she finished cleaning him up and let him out the back door.
 
Although she knew she could trust Travis, something made her want to wait.
 
She stepped back to the table and cleared away the dishes.

“You were going to tell me something.”
 
He placed the silverware on the counter next to the sink.

“Was I?
 
Guess it slipped my mind.”
 

Why did she want to wait?
 
What kept holding her back?
 
Was it because she feared that once he knew the truth, he’d get the all-important-information he needed and walk out of her life?
 

Afraid.
 
She was so tired of being afraid.
 

She turned on the water and slid a plate under the steady stream.
 
“I want to thank you again for breakfast.
 
It was really nice.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

A weighted silence hung between them.
 
She wanted to tell him and then she didn’t.
 
She wanted to trust him and then she couldn’t.
 
Emotional turmoil was becoming her constant companion.
 
Why did she have to like him so blasted much?
 
Why couldn’t he be just some guy she spent a few pleasant moments with over breakfast?

“Was there any other damage from the storm?” he asked, picking up a plate and rubbing it dry.

“No.
 
There’s a lot of debris in the driveway, and I imagine the gutters are full, but nothing else that I could see.”

He returned the clean dishes to the cabinet.
 
“Well, I guess I’ll go see about fixing that window.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t bother.
 
You need to rest.
 
I’ll go out and get some plywood from the shop and cover the hole later.”

“I insist.”
 
He folded the towel he’d been using and set it next to the sink.
 
“Which way to the shop?”

“It’s out back.
 
But
—
”

He was out of the backdoor before she could finish her sentence.
 
With a heavy sigh, she added helpful to the growing list of ways to describe her dark prince.

Travis made his way to the small building behind the cabin with a smile on his face.
 
He couldn’t remember a time when he’d enjoyed a woman’s company so much.
 
Well, out of bed, anyway. Bobbi was funny, bright, and beautiful.
 
The precocious little girl he’d known had grown into an enchanting woman.
 
No wonder Jase kept her far away from him.
 
She was a treasure, and Travis wasn’t good enough for her.

His awkward gait faltered with the feel of the beast’s eyes on him.
 
He hoped the drooling monster had gotten enough to eat earlier.
 
Sooner or later they were going to have to come to terms.
 
Bobbi might be right about the dog beginning to accept him, considering he hadn’t tried to eat him yet.
 
And he hadn’t growled at him when he came into the kitchen either, but Travis wasn’t quite ready to accept Monstro as his best buddy.
 
Not yet.
 
Not by a long shot.

Stepping up on the stoop in front of the little shop, he opened the door and hobbled inside.
 
The scent of fresh wood shavings assailed his senses.
 
To one side lay a small pile of scrap and on the other, neatly stacked blocks and planks of wood, some rough branches, and a few pieces of plywood.
 
At the end of the room stood a large workbench covered in tools and wood shavings.
 
He moved closer for a better look.
 

Elves and fairies carved in the most intricate detail he’d ever seen lay scattered across the table.
 
A pipe with the beginnings of an old man’s face carved on the bowl rested on its side while a completed pipe, similar in design, sat alongside.
 
He ran his fingers over the freshly carved images, fascinated by the grooves and textures.

Bobbi was extremely talented.
 
He’d seen a few of her paintings at Jase’s apartment and had been impressed, but never so much as now.
 
Why she decided to be an art dealer instead of an artist made no sense to him.
 
At least she’d used these last few months to ply her craft.

Rocky’s barking drew his attention to the window.
 
Travis peered out, assuming he’d see some poor hapless woodland creature being harassed for daring to enter the great beast’s domain.
 
But instead, found Bobbi running back and forth with a large stick in her hand, playing tug-of-war with the dog.
 

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he mumbled to himself.
 
“One smooth tackle and she’s a goner.”

But Rocky didn’t knock her down.
 
He seemed content to play the game.
 
When she finally relented and let him have the stick, he flopped down on the ground and began to chew in earnest.
 
She laughed and took several deep breaths, her bright blonde hair catching the few rays of sunlight piercing the greenery.
 

He could watch her all day.
 
He shook his head at the dangerous implications of that thought and went in search of the wood he needed to repair the window.
 

With the supplies in hand, he started back to the house.
 
Eyeing Rocky lying beside the small gravel path gnawing on his stick, Travis limped slowly by.
 

“Sooner or later, buddy.
 
We’re going to have a little talk.”

Bobbi had just finished making the bed when he entered the room.
 
All reminders of the storm were gone except for the missing glass in the lower half of the window.

She reached to take the plywood from him.
 
“Here, let me do that.
 
You’ve done too much today already.”
 

He held fast to the board.
 
“I’m a big boy.
 
I think I’ll survive.”

“You may be a big boy, but you happen to have a big hole in your leg.”
 

Relenting, he let her take the wood.
 
He refused to admit his leg was killing him and his body felt totally drained.
 
“You’re beginning to sound an awful lot like my mother.”

“Oh, be quiet and give me the hammer.”

“Yes, dear,” he said with a distinct nasal tone.

“You know, I ought to use this on your head, but I think someone else beat me to it.
 
Probably one of those very wise sisters of yours.”

Laughing, he sat on the bed and held the board in place while she hammered in the nails.
 
He liked their playful bantering, the easy camaraderie.
 
Bobbi was a lot like Jase, he realized, which explained why he felt incredibly comfortable with her.
 
Strange, how he never felt that way with any other woman.

Once the plywood was secure, he let go and watched her put in the last few nails.
 
She said something about having to take down the drapes and clean them as she climbed up onto the bed and reached for the curtain rods.
 
He wanted to slip his hands around her tiny waist to steady her, but knew he’d end up pulling her down on to the bed.
 

Not a good thing.
 
He had enough trouble dealing with the memory of their innocent night together on the floor.
 

With a yawn he lay back on the bed, remembering her hesitant words over breakfast.
 
Had she been about to tell him her true identity?
 
He believed so.
 
He hoped so, but something still held her back.
 
Regardless of what had her so spooked, it was time to tell her the truth, and there were things she needed to know.
 
Things he wished he didn’t have to tell her.
 
As soon as she finished taking down the drapes, they would talk, even though he ached to do something else.

Bobbi climbed down from the bed, her hands filled with dirty curtains, and found Travis sprawled across the mattress sound asleep.
 
Making breakfast and fixing the window had really taken it out of him.
 

Silently, she picked up the afghan from the chair and laid it across him.
 
She brushed a stray lock from his forehead.
 

“What am I going to do about you?” she whispered.

She felt a distinctive pull toward the exasperating man and that worried her.
 
Not only did she need to be cautious with her life, she’d have to keep a tight rein on her heart.
 
What she felt could easily become something much bigger than living out a fantasy.

Maybe she should tell him the truth about who she was and save her heart before it was too late.
 
His teasing and flirting would stop for certain then.
 
She’d be back to being Jase’s kid sister, not a fully grown woman with desires of her own.
 

Yes, that’s what she’d do.
 
She’d tell him who she was at dinner.
 
Or maybe at breakfast.
 
No, maybe she should wait until his leg healed.

She sighed.
 
“Coward.”
 

Well, until then, whenever then happened to be, she had a project to work on.
 
With a smile, she crept quietly out of the bedroom and outside to the shop.

Several hours later, she rubbed the back of her neck, easing the stiffness brought on by leaning over her workbench too long and straining her eyes in the limited amount of light.
 
Shame there wasn’t any way to hook the generator to the workshop lights, and it was way too big for her to move.

“Almost done, Rock.”
 
Her companion sniffed where he lay on the shop floor next to her feet.
 
“I think he’ll like it, although I don’t know why I care.
 
What do you think, boy?”
 

She showed the freshly carved cane to Rocky.
 
He responded with a low grumble as he dropped his head back to the floor with a soft thud.
 

“Critic.
 
Well, I like it.
 
As a matter of fact, I think it’s one of my favorite pieces.”
 

The dragon was more than half-done due to the fact she’d started on it the week before with no owner intended, but somehow the mystical beast seemed to suit Travis.
 
Its strong claws and large teeth combined with hardened scales displayed strength, but the facial expression held gentleness.
 
All of which reminded her of how she’d found him on the floor that first day in front of the fire.
 

Was that only two days ago?
 
Funny, she felt like they’d been together a lot longer.
 
She could probably thank those stupid fantasies of hers for that.

Looking back at her work, she felt sure she’d be done in a day or so.
 
Okay, so she was pushing herself to make it for him, but the man needed a cane until his leg healed.
 
That was the only reason she was doing it.
 
Honestly.

Not completely convinced of her motives, she rose from the stool with a long stretch.
 
“It must be way past lunchtime, Rocky.
 
I’m starved.
 
What say we go in and get something to eat?
 
I imagine our guest is pretty hungry by now, too.
 
If he’s awake, that is.”

The image of Travis sleeping on her bed warmed her blood.
 
The many ways she’d like to wake her sleeping prince turned the corners of her mouth up into a deliciously sinful grin.
 
A little fantasy now and then couldn’t hurt.
 

Unless that fantasy became reality.
 
Oh, but what a wonderful reality it would be.
 

Her thoughts pleasantly lingering on her guest, with a few addendums that they would remain pure fiction, she made her way to the door.
 

The sound of a car in the driveway halted her steps.
 
Peering through the small window, she let out a puff of air, stirring her bangs.
 
So much for harmless fantasies.
 
The world had intruded once again.
 

Doctor Stamens stepped out of his car and walked toward the front porch.
 
Bobbi hurried out of the shop to catch him, not wanting him to wake Travis.
 
Nor did the good doctor need to get another look at him.
 

“Hi, Ted,” she called out as she crossed the driveway.
 
“What brings you here?”

He stopped on the bottom step and turned toward her.
 
Rocky grumbled and trotted past him to lie on the porch.

Ted shoved his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.
 
“I was worried about you after that storm went through last night.
 
I thought I’d come see if you were all right.”
 
Hesitantly stepping down, he entered what Bobbi considered her personal space.

“I’m fine.”
 
She backed up against the railing, regaining some distance.
 
“The power went out, but I’ve got a generator.
 
No real damage.
 
Just a busted window.”

“I’m glad to hear it.
 
How’s your friend?”

“Oh, he’s fine.”
 
He’s more than fine, she thought as the memory of him sleeping beside her, touching her, holding her, flickered through her mind.
 

She suppressed a shiver as delicious tingles ran through her body.
 
“He’s almost recovered.
 
Something I really want to thank you for.
 
I’m sure he’d like to thank you too, but I think he’s still taking a nap.”

Ted stepped closer, taking one of her hands.
 
“Your thanks is more than enough.”
 

She wanted to move away.
 
Sort of.
 
All this male attention after being without much human contact for so many months felt rather nice, but she needed to stop this nonsense.
 
Handling Travis sapped all her energies.
 
The last thing she needed was another man stirring her up.
 

Ted placed his other hand along the railing behind her.
 
“Have dinner with me.”

The soft smooth tone of his voice and the smell of his cologne teased her senses.
 
Her thoughts strayed to other things she liked about Ted.
 
A lot of other things.
 
That almost-kiss, for one.
 

Oh, boy.
 
Her libido was definitely working overtime.
 
First Travis and then Ted.
 
Someone whom she’d had no real interest in before.
 
Well, not serious interest.
 
It had to be his change in tactics.
 
Instead of being the shy, sweet doctor, he was suddenly in full pursuit and smooth as silk.
 
Why?

“Competition,” a small voice whispered.
 
The way Ted had looked Travis over, measuring him up, explained it all.
 
What was it with men?
 
More than one rooster in the yard and their feathers got out of whack.
 

Oh, for crying out loud.
 
Now I’m making barnyard analogies
.
 
She’d been living in the country for too long.