Authors: Cerian Hebert
“No, don’t go. I don’t mind.” His own voice was strangely husky. He didn’t release his hold immediately. “I was about to make a plate of nachos. You want to share?”
Say no. Say goodnight and go to bed.
Instead she heard herself say, “Yes.”
Travis didn’t want to let go of Rio’s arm. Her bare skin was so warm and smooth. She must’ve taken a shower before bed because he could smell her fragrant shampoo.
What a difference a month or so had made in her. He recalled the first time he’d seen her in her old, ragged clothes, appearing as if she hadn’t had a hot shower in weeks. Which was probably the truth.
Now she wore new pajamas and a pair of fuzzy slippers and seemed almost settled. Except for the way her pale green eyes widened when he touched her. Did she sense it too? That zooming of adrenaline rushing through his body by the mere feel of her skin under the palm of his hand? She must have, because she seemed to be on the brink of flight.
What a way to live.
He released her. He’d been feeling the pull toward her for a while now, had always passed it off as typical attraction. She was a pretty young woman and he hadn’t been with anyone for a very long time. Nature had a funny way of throwing two people who were totally wrong for each other into situations like this.
For everyone’s sake it was best to shake it off. It wouldn’t be a smart idea to start down this path.
But her mouth . . . She had the most kissable, full lips he’d ever seen. Either smiling or frowning, they were too enticing for his own good. Staring into her eyes didn’t help much either. Such a contrast, the pale green and the creamy fair skin compared with her thick black hair. And those coral lips. So much femininity and strength packed into one petite body.
To clear out these trainwreck thoughts, Travis spun from her and grabbed the bag of tortilla chips and a plate. Quickly, he piled cheese on top of the nachos and slid it into the microwave, then fished the salsa and sour cream from the fridge. Rio sat at the table by the window and stared out into the darkness beyond.
“Here we go. Drink?”
“Water, thanks.”
A strange situation to say the least, Travis thought, as they sat at the kitchen table, almost two-thirty in the morning, eating nachos while a storm beat against the walls around them.
“Why Rio?” he asked, breaking the silence between them.
She glanced up at him and raised her slim brows. “What do you mean?”
“Why did your mom name you Rio? What’s the significance?”
She chuckled. “Nothing really romantic, I’m afraid. It’s from a song by Duran Duran. You know it, I’m sure.” Rio sang a line, then grinned self-consciously. “It was her favorite song in the world, apparently. I thank God she didn’t like ‘Hungry Like the Wolf’ better. Who knows what she would’ve come up with.”
Travis laughed. “Okay, what about your siblings? Diamond and Storm?”
“I have no idea where she came up with Diamond. I never asked. I do remember Storm, though. I was only five when he was born. God, what a night. It was kind of like tonight, only louder.” Rio glanced toward the window, then down to her hands as if she didn’t want to meet his gaze.
“We were living in an old trailer,” she continued, her gaze still downcast. “I was sure we’d get picked up and tossed by the wind. The rain and gusts beat the hell out of that damned tin can. My mom went into labor. We didn’t have a car, didn’t have insurance and she refused to have us call an ambulance. I don’t know, maybe she thought if an EMT came in and saw our living conditions, they’d remove us. Made me wish I’d called the ambulance.”
Her tone turned grim. She was letting him in, and he planned to take advantage. He wanted to know her.
“Anyway, it was her, Diamond, me and some guy who could’ve been Storm’s father, I don’t know. There were so many men in and out of the place I couldn’t keep track. She’s about to give birth and all she has is a nine-year-old, a five-year-old, and a drunk. It’s amazing Storm was born alive.”
Travis picked up her hand and held it. Finally, she gave him a weak smile. She didn’t pull away from his touch.
“So, you helped deliver him?”
“I did. And then when he was born, I was so scared. No one would cut the cord, so I ran to the nearest neighbor, Mrs. Carbonni, and begged her to come and help. She didn’t want to. I’m sure she was too scared to have anything to do with us. She came over anyway and finished the job. Before she left she told my mom to clean up her act because one of these days someone
would
report her and she’d lose us. For a while my mom must’ve listened because the drunk was out the door and she spruced the place up a bit. She even talked about sending me to kindergarten.”
Rio’s smile grew a fraction. “I thought I was in heaven. It lasted all of a week or two. Long enough to get Storm his birth certificate. Then we were right where we started, except now we had a new mouth to feed. I always wished Mrs. Carbonni had called someone. Anything was better . . .”
Rio stopped talking and gaped at Travis, her eyes wide, a flush in her cheeks. Clearly she regretted saying so much.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to—um—go on like that,” she finally said and pulled her hand away. She grabbed her glass and took a long drink of her ice water. “I generally don’t unload on people.”
“Sometimes it’s a necessity.”
Rio didn’t raise her eyes from the table surface. A sad smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Never used to think so.”
“And what do you think now?”
“I don’t know what to think. Well, I
think
I’d like to change the subject and not talk about something so depressing.”
What else could he do but draw her out of the funk she put herself into?
As they sat there, finishing up the nachos, laughing over something trivial, he realized if they were at a restaurant, this would almost be like a date. Except she wore her pajamas and he had no shirt on. And they weren’t dating.
“Oh wow. The sky is lighter.”
Travis peered outside. Morning had indeed crept in on them. Still, the rain came down heavily. “I kept you up nearly all night.”
“It’s okay. It’s my day off. I think I’ll crawl into bed and sleep until lunch.”
“Too bad it’s not nicer. We could go out for some driving lessons,” he commented. “Hopefully it’ll stop.” He stood, picked up the plate, and brought it to the sink. Rio followed with the glasses.
“Thanks for the nachos. And the conversation.”
Gazing down at her, desire swelled inside him again. For a moment he could see through the cracks in her armor.
“Anytime.” He fingered a lock of her hair. It felt like silk.
Despite all his determination not to do this, he drew her closer, and slid his hand into her thick waves.
She met his kiss with a sigh and opened up to him.
God, she was sweet. Hot and giving. He half expected her to push him away. Instead she wound her arms around his neck and pressed herself close.
Her body melted into his as her hands explored the muscles of his back. He could easily concentrate on the way her palms glided against his body, but instead he focused on the bold, yet innocent way her lips touched, tasted, and tempted him.
As the kiss deepened, as his tongue invaded the heat of her mouth, he heard her moan. She joined in the erotic dance with a succulent, heady kiss, her lips as perfect as he’d suspected. He would’ve been glad to keep delving deeper into this untapped passion if he could.
He thought of sweeping her up into his arms, carrying her to her room, and stripping off her pajamas so he could discover all of her. Until that damned sensible voice inside his head spoke, telling him this wasn’t right, they barely knew each other. So much about her remained a mystery.
As tiny as the voice sounded, it was powerful enough to cut through to his clouded mind, past the roaring of his blood.
Rio pulled away first. She stepped back, bumping into the counter. Her eyes were wide, scared.
“Oh Travis,” she whispered. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“No, don’t.” He wanted to hold her. Again she was on the verge of flight. One wrong word, one move toward her and she’d be gone. That was the last thing he wanted.
“This can’t happen again,” she said slowly. “I’m mortified. Jessa, oh my God, what would she think?”
Travis sighed. Since he agreed with her, he’d been calling on all the willpower he possessed to keep it from happening again. But mortified? Hell no, he wasn’t mortified. Not by a long shot.
“Don’t worry. She won’t have to know, not if we don’t want her to. We’re both adults. I refuse to apologize, because I don’t feel sorry. Not one bit. I would never push anything on you, though.”
She stared at him. “I don’t do this kind of thing, Travis. Ever. Getting involved—no, it’s not good for me. I—I need to go to bed.”
Before he could respond, she spun and rushed out of the kitchen. Her bedroom door shut as he sagged against the counter.
Damn, how the hell had he let this happen?
And more importantly, how would he keep it from happening again when he wanted nothing more than to continue kissing and holding her?
Chapter 10
Rio gave up any pretense of sleeping. She hadn’t been able to close her eyes since she crawled into bed.
Why had she allowed that kiss? Was she absolutely crazy? And here they were, having a perfectly nice conversation over a plate of nachos.
God, she liked him. Honestly liked and trusted him. That kind of reassurance and comfort didn’t come easily to her. She could count on one hand how many people she trusted like this.
And now it probably lay in ruins. Now they’d be all awkward with each other, and each time she looked at him, she’d remember how his mouth felt and tasted, how the kiss consumed her, and the feel of his warm, smooth skin under her fingers.
She now knew every contour of his back, his shoulders; his chest. She was fairly sure she’d touched every inch of exposed skin. She wouldn’t be able to dislodge that from her head.
She wanted to touch him again. Wanted to feel his tongue swirl with hers. She wanted him to lead her to places she’d never been before.
She couldn’t, wouldn’t allow it. Not after she’d committed to spending so much time here. The more she wanted Travis, the more she’d want to flee. That’s what always happened. Commitment scared the hell out of her, and this . . . well, this came on more powerful than anything she’d ever experienced before. If she let it go further, she’d end up running all the way to Alaska to escape.
At six o’clock she finally pushed herself out of bed and took a shower. After, she dressed and stepped outside, relieved that Travis wasn’t awake. She couldn’t see him yet.
The heavy rain from the night before had settled into a steady drizzle, but she didn’t care. The waterproof jacket Sadie had bought her kept her warm and dry, and the winter duck boots didn’t let any water seep in from the puddles on the road.
She liked to be out in the early hours before anyone else was up, listening to the sound of rain on leaves, seeing her breath rise up and dissipate into the gray morning. Late fall had certainly settled in. She hadn’t been this far north in November in years.
Last year at this time she’d been in New Mexico working at a diner, washing dishes and sleeping in some dingy storage room. The job lasted long enough for her to earn the money to move on east. By Christmas she made her way to Baton Rouge.
The year before that, she’d been in Nashville. She didn’t travel further north during the winter months. Yet here she was, and she realized the chilly temperatures could easily change this heavy curtain of drizzle into snow.
She’d been fifteen the last time she’d spent a winter up north. That had been right before she ran away. Her family had been living in a depressing, cold, one-bedroom apartment. Diamond had made her escape by then, so it had been her, Storm, their mom and her mom’s latest, Pete Moffett.
Everything had been dreary, from the inside out. And there didn’t seem to be any escape. Any hope.
Why her mother had stayed with Pete, Rio had no idea. It wasn’t like the guy could hold down a job for more than a few weeks at a time. He was a son of a bitch to live with, even to her mother, cruel to both Storm and Rio. Not that her mother cared much.
It had been the fix he could provide. Katrina Presley had been willing to overlook the way Pete ogled Rio, the suggestions and moves he’d made. Even when Rio chopped off her hair to make herself as unattractive as possible, he still promised her he’d have her. The language he used was not so polite. Even now, it repulsed her to think of that leering, disgusting letch.
If only she’d left when he started making those threats, maybe things could wouldn’t have turned out so bad for Storm.
Her brother had been the one bright spot in her life. Since the night of his birth she’d considered him hers. She could take care of something in this world, so completely helpless and in need. She’d been young, but she took on the job of making his life as happy as possible.
She’d failed miserably. He had been everything to her and in the end all she could do was to watch hell unfold in their horrible little apartment.
Rio pressed her fists to her eyes. She didn’t want that image in her head. No matter how she fought it, they filled her brain. She didn’t cry. Those tears had dried up years ago, but it still hurt like hell, seeing her brother dragged off while she hid like a coward.
She’d never forgive herself for letting him down.
Now as the morning light seeped through the curtain of clouds overhead and the drizzle faded into something more like a mist, Rio kept walking. How easy it would’ve been to keep going and not go back. She had a warm jacket, decent boots, and some money in her pocket. She could do it. She’d survived with less.
Then Cobble Creek rose out of the mist, the pale green fields and white fences reminding her she had something worth staying for. How could she walk away? If she did, it would add another image that would haunt her forever.
She turned around. If she planned to stay she’d have to deal with what happened between her and Travis. Ignoring it might be the best approach. No doubt about it, he’d become a part of her life. To continue on here she couldn’t be all awkward about the kiss.
Pretend it didn’t happen. Take him up on his offer to learn how to drive, although she’d learned when she was thirteen. She had to make it legal.
Wow, I’m actually on the path to becoming a normal person.
And she had to return to firm ground with Travis. No weirdness. She’d forget the kiss and the way it made her toes curl and heart race.
Inside Travis’s home, the heady scent of coffee hung in the air. She hesitated for a moment then closed the door behind her.
No chickening out.
Thank goodness Travis was fully dressed. She didn’t think she could deal with seeing him bare-chested again.
“Morning,” she said, forcing her voice to remain light and casual. She grabbed a coffee cup, keeping as far away from him as she could.
“Hey.” He swung around to face her. “Thought you were still sleeping.”
“No, I decided to go for a walk. Rain is letting up. I’m trying to picture it as snow. I haven’t seen snow since I was fifteen.”
“Well, it’ll happen soon enough. I’m making myself an omelet. Care to join me?”
“Sure. Let me help.”
Once again they were making a meal together. This time, with the mood not so heavy, she actually enjoyed herself. She chopped up onions and peppers, then grated a block of cheddar cheese. Travis sautéed the vegetables and added the cheese to the bowl of beaten eggs. Rio gave her attention to the toast.
Nothing smelled better than that moment.
This is what home should smell like.
How she wished she could’ve given this to her brother.
Though she had a vague idea of what happened to him after she left, she knew for certain this kind of morning, this kind of environment, hadn’t been a part of his childhood.
“Can I ask you something?” Rio glanced at Travis, sitting across the kitchen table from her with their breakfast.
“Go ahead.”
“Can you find out what happened to someone? With your connections—as a cop—maybe you could find out what happened to my brother. After I left. Like where he is now.”
Travis looked up with a frown. “You really want to know?”
“It’s eaten at me for years and years. I know he was taken away. I know he spent some time . . . away. After that, I don’t know.”
“Do you want to contact him? If we find him?”
Good question.
Her gut told her yes. She loved him. Loved him above everyone else, but twelve years had passed. God only knew what his life had turned out like. One horrible night could’ve changed him. The consequences of his actions could’ve ruined sweet kid he used to be, making him someone as bad, as hard, as their mother.
And if so? Would she want him in her life, now she had finally found a place of her own?
“I guess it would depend on his circumstances.” She felt cold and cruel for saying it.
“I’ll see what I can come up with. But, Rio, be prepared. In case things aren’t as you want them to be.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t believe in fairy tales. I’ve learned to expect the worst from a very young age.”
Travis grasped her hand and held it gently. She nearly drew away. There was nothing sexual about the touch. Only comfort, and she accepted it.
“Someday I hope you’ll start to expect the best,” he murmured.
After that, she changed the tone of the conversation. Once they finished breakfast, Travis suggested they go to the grocery store and start Rio’s driving lessons.
She was a lot rusty. It had been years since she’d been behind the wheel. Travis’s patience put her at ease. By the time they finished shopping, he had her driving to the next town to pick up Jessa, stopping along the way in an empty parking lot so she could practice parking and reversing.
“You’ll have your license in no time,” he assured her. “I’ll find you one of the manuals for the written test.”
Rio swiveled in her seat and faced him. “Thank you. For everything. Between you and Sadie, this is the first time I’ve ever felt comfortable.
Ever
.”
Travis stroked her hair softly. “I’m glad. I hope you never feel the need to run again.”
She longed to kiss him, to soak in the feelings he brought out in her, the fresh stirrings of desire and something even deeper.
Something better left unnamed.
Although Storm Presley’s juvenile records were sealed, Travis pieced together enough information to know Storm had killed his mother’s boyfriend, Pete Moffett. And he learned enough to know the creep deserved it. The kid was the real victim in his opinion.
Pete and Katrina had been together for about six months when it happened. Pete had a record a mile long, mostly small time drug busts and assaults. Within the six months there’d been plenty of disputes between him and the kids’ mother, but she wouldn’t have him arrested in any of those cases.
The most disturbing was the sexual assault on a fourteen-year-old girl. That had been before he’d hooked up with Katrina Presley. Travis figured Pete had been the habitual type. Probably why Rio’s oldest sister, Diamond, had left town. What a hellhole for Rio to have to deal with. And no doubt forced to dodge this scumbag’s attentions.
So, little brother had decided enough was enough. Three bullets put an end to Pete Moffett. Storm had been removed after that, and immersed into the world of juvenile detention.
Interestingly enough, Travis couldn’t find any mention of another sister, fifteen at the time. Where had Rio been? She’d said she left after Storm had been taken away, so had she been in the home when the shooting occurred?
Well, he’d have to check into it further. Rio could fill in those pieces as well.
Travis decided to wait until he had more. After all, this would be ancient history to her. She knew what happened to her brother after he killed Pete Moffett. She wanted to know what became of Storm once he paid for that crime.
Travis closed his eyes and reclined in his desk chair. He didn’t want to think about it right now. Thinking about it made his blood boil. The man had paid for his sins. What about the mother? What price did she pay for her part?
“Daddy?”
Jessa spoke quietly, her voice tentative. At least she was sort of talking to him again. Progress he’d happily accept.
“Yeah, honey?”
Jessa walked over to the desk. In her “Hello Kitty” pajamas, she appeared younger than her fifteen years. Innocent. Strange to think she was the same age Rio had been when she’d left home. Jessa wouldn’t know that pain. Ever.
“Am I still grounded?” Jessa fidgeted with her fingers, peeling at the dark pink polish on her nails.
“Depends on what you want to do.”
“Tina is having a birthday party Friday night. A sleepover. I’m invited and I really want to go.”
He studied her intently. Usually he could read her like a book, and he hoped that at least hadn’t changed. She certainly seemed earnest enough, her blue eyes wide. She bit her bottom lip.
“What if I check up on you while you’re there?”
“I won’t let you down. Please, Daddy.”
“Okay. We’ll give it a shot. Then we’ll go from there.”
Jessa put her arms around him and kissed his cheek. It was the best feeling in the world, and for the first time in ages he felt like he was getting a little bit of his daughter back.
After she departed for bed, Travis picked up the mail on the desk. He hadn’t had a chance to go through it until now. Bills, credit card offers, more junk mail than anything. One thick envelope stopped him cold. The return address was from the county court. It wasn’t work related. In fact, he knew, before he even opened it, what the envelope contained.
Under his breath, Travis cursed Daphne Montague in a string of colorful words. She was suing him for full custody of Jessa.
He should’ve expected this, especially after the woman’s last visit. It was exactly the thing his ex-mother-in-law would do. Did it all boil down to Rio’s presence in the house? Probably not. Surely if it wasn’t Rio, then Daphne would find some other reason to want to remove Jessa from his care.
He dropped the papers onto his desk and rubbed at the ache throbbing in each temple. He’d have his work cut out for him, fighting this woman. She was cold and smart, with an impressive team of lawyers at her fingertips.
Jessa’s recent behavioral issues wouldn’t exactly be helpful. He didn’t think Daphne knew everything about that. Seeing Jessa’s hair, however would be a good indication there were some issues at the Lithgow home.
There was no way Jessa would be better off with her grandmother. Laura had turned out spoiled and not equipped to handle being a mother or a wife. Travis had let it go, but he’d be damned if he’d give Daphne Montague a shot at ruining his daughter.