Maybe having the reception at the same bar our father had frequented when he was alive was in poor taste to some, but truthfully… a dark part of me was thankful for O’Riley’s. This bar had kept my dad entertained and out of thehouse.
“I’m honoured,” Mick said, flashing me a gentle smile as he slid the drink toward me. “Your mom was a sweet lady. She used to be friends with mydaughter.”
“Really? I didn’t know you had a daughter,” I said with surprise, my hand wrapping around the highballglass.
“She died when she was nineteen,” Mick told me gruffly, and I could tell that the pain of losing her was still etched into every part of him. His eyes closed off, and he slid Travis hiswhiskey.
“Thanks, Mick,” Travis said. He had watched our exchange quietly and with interest. He looked at me with care, his hand coming up to rest on the small of myback.
Once we had our drinks in hand, Travis led the way to a relatively private booth, his large palm still pressed to my back. I tried to ignore the fact that one of my brothers was basically acting like a self-proclaimed bodyguard and the other was already attempting to drink his weight in alcohol—again.
I wanted to ascend from my sadness, to lose myself in a moment that was only forme.
Travis regarded me from across the table. “How are you holding up, Becs?” he asked. His eyes were gentle, and as always—I got the sense that I could really trusthim.
“I’ve been better,” I confessed, drawing in a shaky breath. I didn’t want to talk about my grief, but he made mewantto open up. I had to focus extra hard to keep my walls up aroundhim.
My brothers had their girlfriends, and I had nobody. My closest friend was Katie and I hadn’t made time for her inmonths.
I’d been so preoccupied with my mom’s illness, school, and work, and she’d been busy settling in to married life and awaiting the arrival of her baby. The last thing I wanted to do was bother her with my grief, or discuss the heavy weight of my feelings over an impersonalmessage.
Katie and I hadn’t always been friends. We’d gone to the same high school, but she had been one of the popular girls while I had fallen somewhere in the middle. We both worked at her parent’s grocery store as part time cashiers, and we formed a quiet friendship, one where she’d smile at me in the halls and I’d smileback.
When I got pregnant and started to show, the rest of our classmates all stopped talking to me. All except Katie, she started going out of her way to talk to me. She fought even harder to be my friend, because she had sensed that I desperately neededone.
Over the years, we grew closer and closer, but when Mom got sick…I withdrew into myself, focusing only on my smallworld.
It was the only way I knew how to get throughit.
Katie understood, but I still felt guilty for doing it…especially after I’d seen her round belly at thewake.
I’d heard she was pregnant, of course. She had told me herself six months ago when we met up for lunch. I’d happily congratulated her, but I wasn’t there for her the way I should havebeen.
“I’ll bet. Want to talk to about it?” Travis didn’t ask questions that he wasn’t interested in hearing the answers for, so I knew he was asking how I was because he truly cared, on some level. Maybe that would have been enough, but mentally, I slapped myself. Opening up to Travis Channing would be a mistake. He wasn’t the same boy he once was—he was a country singer now, and a famous one at that. We were worlds apart, and I couldn’t burden him with mysadness.
“I’d rather not, if you don’t mind. I came here to forget about things for a littlewhile.”
“Alright,” he smiled, the whites of his teeth bright against his thick lips. “And just how would you like to forget aboutthem?”
His smile was easy, playful even, but his eyes smoldered and I couldn’t help but question the meaning behind his words. The way he was looking at me evoked tingles of awareness across every inch of myskin.
“I don’t know, tell me some stories about being a famous country singer,” I replied, feeling light headed. “Your life is far more interesting thanmine.”
“I don’t buy that.” Travis shook his head, but he must have sensed my reluctance on the topic and obliged my request. I lost myself in his dazzling smile while he told me all about his adventures on the road, about the hilarious people he’d met. His stories intrigued me. His stories made me forget about things, for a littlewhile.
With each sip of my beverage, I relaxed more and more. One drink turned into two, and two became three. My eyes traced his carelessly tousled dirty blond hair as we chatted. We drew closer and closer, our eyes never leaving each other’s faces and a powerful desire overcame me. I longed to taste his thick, kissablelips.
After three drinks and nearly an hour of conversation with Travis, I started to get antsy. My carnal urges were consuming my thought process, helped along by the alcohol in my system. I wasn’t kidding when I had told Travis I didn’t drink—I really didn’t, aside from a glass of wine during specialoccasions.
I wanted him.Desperately.
My first instinct was to run fast, but I knew that wasn’t exactly healthy. Still, I knew I needed a moment to collect my thoughts and mycomposure.
“Excuse me, I need to visit the ladies room,” I told him, instantly wishing I could retract that sentence. As if Travis needed—or wanted—to hear about my bathroom habits. But he smiled easily in response andnodded.
I darted quickly to the bathroom, relieved to see that it was empty. I used the restroom and washed my hands, studying my reflection in the mirror withuncertainty.
I had smooth skin, high cheek bones, a nose that wasn’t too big or thick for my face, and my blue eyes were framed by naturally thick longlashes.
