Travis belonged here, and for the first time in her life, she knew it all the way through her soul.
He set the big mug on the table, leaned over and folded his arms over his chest, his dress shirt still open. Rachel gazed at the firm muscles that teased through the folds, remembering how that chest felt pressed against her back, those arms wrapped around her waist. A twinge of heat returned between her thighs, and she wondered how many times they’d have to make love before she could look at his body without growing wet.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his mouth curved in a crooked smile.
“You. Us. Last night.” A thought suddenly flew into her head, making her shift awkwardly. “Can I ask you something?”
“Ask me anything.”
“Did you…were you and Carrie…did you ever have sex?” she finally blurted out.
Travis shook his head instantly. “No. We didn’t. Never even got close to it.” Regret flickered in his eyes. “Does it bother you, that I dated Carrie?”
“No,” she admitted. “Does it bother you?”
Another shake of the head. “Carrie and I…it wasn’t a relationship, just two kids hanging out for a few months.” His mouth curved slightly. “You and I, on the other hand…”
Rachel’s pulse raced. He didn’t finish the sentence, but she knew where it led. Did he want a relationship? Did she?
She opened her mouth to speak, but wasn’t sure exactly what to say. Her jaw bobbed as she struggled with the words, but the sound of the telephone relieved her dilemma. She rose from the table and picked up the receiver to hear the voice of her mother’s neighbor.
“Rachel, it’s Wilma Sanders.”
A chill doused the heat in her veins. Wilma never made social calls, which meant Rachel was about to start her day with some sort of trouble from home. What was it going to be, another one of her mother’s battles with a temporary boyfriend? Was her mother passed out on the lawn, or had she driven her car through someone’s geraniums again?
“Hi, Wilma.” She couldn’t find any words to follow.
“Honey, you need to come home. It’s your momma. The police are here.”
An ache quickly formed at her temples, her jaw clenched tight and the muscles at the base of her neck began to stiffen. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to deal with it. Just the fact that the police were involved meant this was bigger than a few tire tracks through a neighbor’s lawn.
Anger boiled in her chest. Hattie always had a way of ruining every precious moment in her life, and once again, her mother was about to ruin the start of a beautiful day.
“Rachel,” Wilma continued, “I’m sorry, but your momma’s gone.”
Her anger gave way to confusion. She tightened her grip on the phone. “What do you mean Hattie’s gone?”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. The police think she died in her sleep.”
Her eyes moved to Travis, who had risen and was buttoning up his shirt. As usual, he’d read the shock in her eyes and was already moving to gather his shoes.
Her thoughts turned back to Wilma. “I’ll be right there,” she said, clicking off the phone.
Travis slipped on his shoes and stepped to her, placing his warm, firm hands on her shoulders. Concern filled his face. “Are you okay?”
She stood, numb of all sensation. The headache had disappeared, the muscles in her neck had returned to their previous state of relaxation, and despite the shocking news she’d just received, she honestly had no answer. Was she okay? She had no idea.
“I think so.”
He gave her shoulders a squeeze before he turned for his jacket. “Get dressed. I’ll take you over.”
She opened her mouth to object. Rachel had never allowed anyone into her childhood home. Not even her closest friends. It was a place she kept separate from the rest of her life, and in an automatic response, she began to tell Travis she would go alone.
But the words wouldn’t come.
Instead, her mind reflected on the night they’d shared, his tenderness and concern that told her Travis wasn’t like anyone else. She’d already let him into her bed, allowed him access to the deepest parts of her body and her heart. If Travis was the man for her, she would need to learn to share herself with him completely, the dark side as well as the good.
She stood, unable to move. Half of her needed to share this with him, but the old forces were still screaming at her to keep him away.
“My mother’s dead,” were the only words she could speak.
Travis tucked his arms in his jacket and crossed the room, standing over her, his face coiled with uncertainty.