That got him a full Rachel smile.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You know that Mama has lots of thoughts about lots of things.”
Rachel glanced to the ceiling, flopping her arms to her side. “She ruins everything.”
“It’s her gift,” he replied, his lips twitching at Rachel’s margarita-induced melodramatics.
The television murmured low in the background, the only light in the room coming from the screen—some show about houses that Rachel had turned on—the hallway, and the small bulb over the stove.
This, this was nice. She was Rachel. There were no expectations. They were friends. Maybe. Maybe they could be friends. Stranger things had happened that day—Gavin had even apologized.
“I’m coming to the lake,” Rachel declared.
He had a feeling that she was half-past drunk and into blitzed territory, but he was a gentleman, as per his mama, and didn’t say anything about that. Also, he’d provided the liquor, so it was his responsibility to ensure she didn’t do anything too ill-advised that night.
“I heard,” he replied. “It came through on the family text chain. Mama is thrilled.”
When his mama was thrilled, everyone could breathe a little easier.
“I have to get work done, so I’m going to need your help,” Rachel said. “Dane’s, too.”
Wait. Hold the fucking phone. Did blitzed Rachel ask for help? This was good intel. Still, sober Rachel probably wouldn’t want his help, so he’d need to tread carefully.
“Figured as much,” he said. “You know we’ve got you covered while we’re there. You can get all caught up.”
Rachel laid her head on the pillow, and her eyes started to drift closed. He didn’t say anything further, instead watching the show she’d left on the television. Now some beefy guy was attempting to build a house.
When he’d glanced back at her, she was snoring softly with her hands up under her cheek.
It was adorable. Shit.
Was he allowed to think of Rachel as adorable?
The woman was made of steel. The wind tried and tried to blow her life over, but she held steady. She was a force of her own. The problem was, he had a hunch that if the wind got too strong, she’d need a net to catch her if she blew over. He wasn’t sure that she had that net, and that made his chest ache. He’d been able to fuck up all the time when he was younger because he had the Frank family safety net.
Maybe if she didn’t try so hard to do everything herself, she’d see that there was a ready-made group of people happy to catch her in her life.
He couldn’t quite say what came over him, but he reached for the green, fringed blanket folded over the arm of the sofa and covered her with it.
“Rach,” he whispered softly. “What’s the code for the door so I can lock up?”
He could’ve texted Molly for it, or Dane, or Gavin, but he figured it was easier just to see if she was awake enough to answer.
She was. She did.
Then she settled again.
He set his hand against the blanket covering her back and smiled. Then he frowned. Gavin was such an idiot. He’d had this. Had her.
He’d let it slip right through his fingers.
Travis shook his head. Everyone always said Trav was the idiot of the family. And, sure, maybe he’d earned that title. But it was his “responsible” brother who let his family slip through his fingers.
Travis sauntered into the kitchen, washed his glass, and fixed up a full pitcher of margaritas for Rachel.
He left them in the refrigerator with a note: Read the sign lots of times, apologies for the delay.
Because that was the truth.
