“Mind if I join you?”
Holt nodded toward the couch. “Pull up a seat.”
“What’re you watchin’?” he asked, taking a seat in the recliner on the other end of the couch.
“The … uh …” Holt pointed at the television. “That.”
“The commercial for…” Simon read the screen. “A psoriasis medication?” He looked at Holt. “So you’re not payin’ attention, but you’re not readin’ either. What’s up?”
Holt shook his head. “I’m trying to get in the right headspace for this book I’m working on. It’s giving me problems.”
Simon didn’t have traditional writer’s block, but he knew all about coming up against a brick wall. It happened to him often.
“I meant to tell you, Bailey might have a room early Sunday. In case you’re tired of bunking with Archer.”
Simon nodded. Sharing a room with Archer wasn’t his favorite thing, but the man had taken it upon himself to sleep on the floor, despite what he told Violet, so it wasn’t too bad. Yet.
If all went well, hopefully, he’d be spending another night in Violet’s bed soon.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, the television holding their attention, although, like Holt, Simon had no clue what was on the screen. His thoughts were all over the map. He needed to dedicate time and effort to outlining his plan for the next season of his podcast. The story was intriguing, but it would require a significant amount of investigation. Identifying a thread was the key to figuring out how to start it.
As though summoned by his thoughts, the bells over the door clanged when someone opened the door. From his spot on the couch, Simon couldn’t see who it was.
A second later, that thread he needed to pull … it walked right into the bed and breakfast.
•••••
Travis Walker stepped into the bed andbreakfast, closing the door behind him.
He shouldn’t be here. In fact, he’d told his husband he would not, under any circumstance, entertain the idea of working with Simon Jennings. According to Gage, the cost was too high. Gage believed they were finally finding a sense of normalcy after Kylie’s death, and their only goal should be to focus on that.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe he was wrong.
Either way, Travis had lied to the man he loved.
But he had his reasons. And if Gage truly loved him, he would forgive him. Or maybe he was pushing things too far, and Gage would get tired of his bullshit. He prayed his husband didn’t boot him out of the house, but he honestly wouldn’t blame him if he did. They’d been through a lot, and Travis continued to heap more and more shit on top of them.
Because. He. Could. Not. Let. It. Go.
As for whatitwas, he didn’t know. Not yet. But something was drawing him toward this. Hope, probably. Although he wasn’t sure what the fuck he was hoping for. The worst possible thing had already happened. Nothing would change that.
Yet here he was, following this inexplicable pull.
“Travis,” Holt Callahan greeted as he walked into the foyer, his forehead creased with confusion. “Are you lookin’ for Bailey? She’s upstairs, but I can get her.”
Travis shook his head, then tilted his chin in the direction of the man sitting in a recliner in front of a television.
Holt peered over his shoulder. “Simon.”
Simon looked hesitant. Then again, Travis didn’t know the man, so it could very well be his normal expression. Travis already knew that Simon Jennings wasn’t the sort of man he could sway to his way of thinking. The fact that the journalist had pushed back so hard had earned Travis’s respect.
And that was the real reason he was there. The man had balls, and if there was anyone who could pursue a story like this one, it would be him.
“Can we talk?” Travis prompted when Simon walked into the foyer.
“Yeah.” Simon looked at Holt. “We’re gonna get some air.”
