“Hi,” I answer, hoping he’ll have a plan for me.
“Hannah, hi. I haven’t been able to talk with Martha yet, but she’ll fix any issues as soon as we know what’s wrong.”
“Thank you.” That is a relief. Finding a place to live was a nightmare that I don’t want to repeat. “The gas company says I may need to vacate until it’s resolved. Any idea where I can stay until then?”
“Per the rental agreement, she has up to twelve days to make the repairs, and if she’s not able to in that timeframe, then the contract is null and you’ll get your rent and deposit returned.”
“It isn’t the money,” I say, which isn’t really true, but in terms of sleeping in my Jeep versus getting my deposit back, one is more critical in this moment.
“I can make some calls to hotels and check rental options. Do you have somewhere you can go for tonight at least?”
“Stay with me,” Travis offers. I’m not sure if he can hear both sides of the conversation, but it’s pretty clear I’m not staying here tonight.
I huff a small laugh at his offer and then focus back on the agent. “That would be great. Thank you. And yes, I can crash with friends for the night.”
But hopefully not any longer than that. I’m tired of hopping around. I was just getting used to my new, cluttery home.
When I hang up, Travis is beaming at me.
“I wasn’t talking about you,” I tell him because it seems like he got the wrong idea by my last words. “I meant Kinsley and Skylar. They won’t mind if I sleep on their couch for a few nights.”
I texted them right after I called the gas company but neither has read the message yet, which leads me to believe they’re having a very naked, much more fun evening than me.
“You’d rather sleep on their couch than have your own room literally next door?” He arches one dark brow.
“I can’t stay with you.” I search for a valid reason that will stop him from looking at me like a wounded animal.
“I can’t,” I say again.
“You can, Walsh. And you will.”
I’m surprised by his insistence. But also, grateful. It isn’t easy for me to accept help, but I’m so tired of figuring out one disaster after another.
“What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t take care of you?” He winks and then motions with his head for me to follow him inside.
18
HANNAH
The next morning, I wake up in a cloud of pillows. Or at least that’s what it feels like. Travis’s guest room is infinitely more comfortable than my new bed next door (or any other bed I’ve slept in ever).
I passed out hard and fast. I thought after all the chaos and being in a new place, it would take me ages to fall asleep, but I was so very wrong.
It’s quiet in the house as I get dressed and head downstairs. Did I get up a half hour earlier in hopes of leaving before Travis woke up? I can neither confirm nor deny. But the way I jump and nearly scream when I spot him in the kitchen (shirtless) is a fairly good indication.
He cocks one brow as I force my surprised expression into a smile. Despite trying to sneak off, I am really grateful to him.
“Sorry. I didn’t think you’d be up already.”
“Morning,” he says in reply, voice a little gruffer than normal. “How’d you sleep?”
“So good I’m questioning the mattress quality of every bed I’ve ever slept in before,” I admit. “Thank you again.”
He chuckles softly. “I’m glad.”
“Coffee?” He turns to the pot, freshly made from the smell of it. It’s intoxicating. All of this is. Him in nothing but sweats and house shoes, messy hair, unshaven, combined with the cozy, intimate vibes of sharing coffee in his house.
“I’ll grab some on my way to the gym.” My desire to flee is greater than my need for caffeine. Being in his house has me feeling off-kilter. I was only just getting used to the idea we were staying married, and now I’m sleeping down the hall. My willpower can only handle so much of Travis. He’s so quick to help or do things for me. I’m not quite used to it yet, and it’s more complicated by the attraction I feel toward him (and of course the fact that we’re married).
