She looks up at me with a wide smile on her lips. “That was so hot. I can’t wait to do that again.”
I look at the knife on the counter one more time and pick it up. “If you don’t mind, it’s my scheduled dinnertime.”
Sage stands up and lowers her shirt before walking out of the kitchen with a wink, leaving me standing there with my veggie lasagna.
Chapter Twelve
Sage
As soon as Travis has finished his dinner and put the leftover portions of veggie lasagna in their proper containers, he changes his clothes and prepares to help me gather my things from Ryan’s cabin.
I wait for him in the living room and wonder how serious he is about his routines. He’s made comments about them before, and a part of me always thought he was joking. Seeing him more intimately in his real life is opening my eyes to the fact that he might not have been.
It makes the fact that he’s willing to throw off his entire routine to make sure I’m safe that much more romantic. I’ve never had a guysacrificesomething for me. Sure, asking him to interrupt a few minutes of his schedule to help me isn’t that big of a sacrifice, but it’s a romantic gesture that doesn’t go unappreciated.
When I hear Travis approach, I quickly get up and start folding the blanket on the couch that I ruffled up.
“Oh my god, please stop what you are doing!” he yells as if I just triggered a museum alarm.
“What?” I ask, confused, as he rips the blanket from my hand and starts folding it the same way I did, only he makes sure that all corners line up exactly.
“That’s not the proper way to fold a blanket. Please don’t touch anything else unless it has step-by-step instructions.” He finishes folding and places the blanket back on the couch.
“Sorry,” I mumble, still not sure why everything has to be so perfect.
“Now, let’s go,” Travis says, looking at his watch as he hurries to the door. “I’ve only got an hour and fifteen minutes before I have work to do.”
I jump to my feet and follow him out of the house. He unlocks the car, and I’m surprised when he doesn’t open the door for me. Honestly, I’m glad he doesn’t. If he had, he would have beentooperfect, and I might have to try to find some kind of flaw with him.
I hop into the car and look around, impressed at how tidy it all is. Not only is the car in near-pristine condition, but it also smells like it was just cleaned. Considering how immaculate Travis’s house is all the time, I can only imagine how detailed he is with his car.
Travis takes a seat behind the wheel, and I watch as he goes through a checklist in his mind, inspecting the rearview mirror and both side mirrors, and tests to ensure the blinkers make the proper sound when he signals. When he’s done, he buckles his seat belt, adjusting it slightly around the neck, and looks at me with a blank stare.
“Seat belt.” Travis watches me as he waits for me to comply.
“We’re just driving right down the street. I have really sensitive skin, and it will chafe my neck,” I say, brushing off the suggestion.
“Statistically, over fifty percent of accidents happen within twenty-five miles of home. Short trips give a false sense of security. The risk doesn’t disappear because the destination is nearby.” Travis pulls his hands from the steering wheel and rests them in his lap while he waits for me. “I wasn’t asking you to put the seat belt on. I was telling you.”
I don’t argue with him. It’s hard to bite back the smile as I think about just how much he cares. He doesn’t have to say it, and that’s what I admire about him so much. Everything he does shows me how muchhe cares about me. That whole spiel about traffic accidents is basically him telling me he doesn’t want anything bad to happen tome.
I buckle the seat belt and stare at him with a smile on my face that I make no effort to hide. “What would I do without you?”
He shakes his head and puts the car in drive. “I can think of a lot of things that I would be doing without you.”
I laugh and shake my head as I look out the window for the short but curvy drive. Travis is a meticulous driver. Even though no one else is on the road, when we come to a stop sign, he stops and looks both ways, not once, not twice, but three times to make sure no car randomly appears to T-bone us. He hovers exactly at the speed limit, never faltering and going above or beyond by a mere mile. I can’t blame him; he clearly has precious cargo on board.
I’ve always been prone to the dramatic, and I find myself imagining the two of us getting in a horrific car accident when a deer runs out into the street. The car flips several times, and Travis barely manages to claw his way out of the wreckage. He’s on his hands and knees, screaming my name, hoping to find me. When he finally sees me on the ground, I’m just barely holding on so I can cup his face one last time and tell him I’ll miss him.
“Let’s make this quick,” Travis says, cutting through my daydream as he pulls into Ryan’s driveway.
I lead the way, heading toward the cabin, unlocking the door and letting him in. He doesn’t hesitate, and he immediately makes his way to the bedroom. I wrinkle my eyebrows as I pull the key from the knob and follow him.
He’s acting like he’s been here before, but Ryan mentioned that he doesn’t even know who Travis is. That would mean the two of them never had dinner together or had drinks on the weekend. Travis had no reason to be in Ryan’s house. So how does he know where the bedroom is right away?
“Such a slob,” Travis says as he kneels in front of my two suitcases and starts throwing piles of clothes back in them. “When you’re stayingwith me, I have rules. One of them is that you cannot leave things lying around like this.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” I say, holding my hands up in front of me innocently. “I’m surprised you knew where to find everything so quickly. I didn’t think you and Ryan were very close.”
