If this is what I’ve made him feel like, then I get why he’sacting this way. Laying myself bare in front of him, making myself vulnerable to him without a favorable response is mortifying, excruciating. It takes every last bit of my strength not to turn tail and run away on a sob.
“Kiss me, Travis,” I say breathlessly, looking up at him.
His eyes narrow, and his brows furrow. He studies my face closely like a poker player about to make his next bet. It breaks my heart comparing how he’s acting now with the easy friendship and flirtation we had two weeks ago. “I don’t know, Faith, I’m feeling kinda tired.”
“Tired on a Friday night? Come on …” I whisper.
He nods, but I can see his eyes warming and his face growing softer. He’s dishing back some of what I’ve put him through over the past year.
I think back to what he might say at this point. My cheeks burn as I ask, “How about we go to the Ophir City Drive-In? Or maybe out for dinner and drinks? Or we could drive a ways and watch the sunset?”
His body relaxes into mine now, and I can tell he fights the grin trying to capture his lips. He shrugs. “How about I call you later?” I can tell by the way his eyes scrutinize me, this isn’t a question. It’s a test.
“Anything we can do over the phone, we can do in person,” I reply in soft tones.
“You sure about that?” he asks, drawing closer to me so that I can feel his hot breath on my lips. But he hovers, waiting.
“Yes, I’m sure about that.”
Our faces are inches apart, and he doesn’t make a move. He’s not going to let me off the hook easily. “Kiss me, Travis,” I say again.
He intones gruffly, “I need you to understand something. There’s only one girl in this damn town … hell, this damn state who I’m obsessed with, and she’s standing in front of me. You’re the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, whether you’re wearing a dirty, sweaty tank top or lip gloss and whatever you call this.”
He traces a finger down the front of my top, leaving sparks across the sliver of bare skin underneath, before snagging the top of my jeans waistband and pulling me possessively against him. He wraps his powerful arms around me.
Capturing my mouth, his lips send lusty waves of need crashing into me as he angles his head, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, claiming me with an urgency that makes me moan.
Nobody should be allowed to kiss like this. I don’t know how or when I’ll start breathing again. My body flushes and shakes, and my lower core tightens, twisting into a thick knot of tension. The smell of his musky dark cologne is as demanding as his kiss, and I sink into his presence as much as his arms.
Pulling back, Travis exhales and our eyes lock. Our faces are flushed. “Fuck,” he says. My body trembles, and he smiles knowingly. “Faith, I think we just kicked a hornet’s nest.” If he’s referring to the desire swarming between us, there’s no doubt.
Warmth and desire pool in his eyes, making me feel like the most cherished woman on the planet. It’s a fantastic feeling after a life lived on the back burner. He sees and wants me for who I am instead of who he wants me to be. It’s uncharted territory for me—both liberating and terrifying.
Travis grabs my hand decisively. Walking with purpose towards the front door, he orders, “Lock up the feed store, Faith.”
I obey wordlessly, making sure everything’s shut up as tight as a drum. Then, he seizes my hand again, leading me to the parking lot and his Chevelle. He’s no longer asking for mypermission to take me out, and I find his determination over-the-top sexy.
Even though I’ve worked on the Chevy many times over the past year, the tantalizing lines, exaggerated by a fresh detailing, elicit awe. “RJ went over the top, Travis.”
RJ’s the only professional mechanic in town and a detailer on the side. Neither one of these pursuits brings him much money in Hollister. After all, this is a fix-your-own-car kind of town. And with more unpaved roads than people, good luck keeping a vehicle dust-free.
“I couldn’t have gotten her running so well without you,” he says in low tones.
“Yes, you could have, silly.”
“Let me rephrase that. I wouldn’t have wanted to do it without you.” He grabs me by the waist and pulls me into his arms with a grin before taking my breath away with another mind-blowing kiss.
Normally, I’d crane my neck guiltily at this point, hoping nobody in town saw us so compromised. But I think back to Jess’s words and the intoxicating elixir of liberating myself from other people’s hopes, wants, and expectations.
My life’s hard enough without trying to please other people. And all at the expense of the one person whose feelings I should care about the most—Travis. I’ve had things backward for so long, but letting go of what others think is addictive. The simple realization it’s none of their darn business anyway frees me like a canary from a coal mine cage.
He opens the passenger side door, motioning for me to get in. The leather bucket seat feels buttery soft, gripping me like a hug. The upholstery squeaks with newness as I surrender to it. I reach for the seatbelt, starting to put it over my chest. He growls, “Don’t even think about it.”
I watch him lean across me, trying to square the too-hot-to-handle stud standing over me with his old-fashioned manners. It’s something I don’t see every day. If ever.
I’ve dated a handful of “good church boys” who claimed to be gentlemen. To my surprise, they overlooked the small stuff, like opening doors and paying for drinks and meals.
I may be a strong, independent woman, but I still appreciate a man who knows how to care for me. Undoubtedly, Travis learned to be this way from Wyatt, his foster dad. Hands down, Wyatt remains the kindest and most gentlemanly cowboy in these mountains.
