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His girl was nervous.
Travis chuckled. “Woulda wondered what kinda man you had if he didn’t act like this.” He met LJ’s gaze. “I ain’t here to stir up trouble. Just want to talk.”
After another few minutes of posturing, LJ nodded, finally stepped back, and allowed Travis to enter their home, but he kept Holly’s back to his front with an arm across her chest. A clearly possessive move, but who gave a fuck?
“Nice place,” he said as he glanced around their home.
LJ and Holly had only lived in the rental house for about a month, but it had already become a cozy home, thanks to Holly’s efforts.
“Thank you.” Holly pulled out of LJ’s hold. “Please, come have a seat. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, beer, soda?”
“Uh...” Travis cast a look in LJ’s direction. Almost as if asking for permission to move further into his space and take his woman up on her hospitality. The respectful gesture killed any lingering doubt LJ had about Travis’s motives. Without Holly being aware, he gave a slight nod. “Yes, ma’am, I’d love some coffee, thank you.”
“Okay, great.” Holly clasped her hands at waist level, started at Travis for a moment, then jumped as though startled by her own stillness. With a shake of her head, she said, “Oh, uh, sorry, let me go get that. Right. LJ can you take Cu—Travis into the living room?”
Watching her trip over herself with nerves had him wanting to jump in and take over the task, but he had a sneaking suspicion she needed to take a moment to regroup in the kitchen. “Want me to get it, sugar?”
“No, no, I got it. Thanks.” She cast him a sweet smile as she walked backward toward the kitchen, wide-eyed gaze bouncing between him and Travis.
“Watch o—” LJ winced as her back connected with the corner of the wall.
“Oof.” An uneasy giggle bubbled out of her as she bounced off the wall and stumbled into the kitchen.
Damn, she was flustered.
Instead of going after her like he wanted, LJ showed Travis to their living room. The former MC president settled on the two-cushioned love seat while LJ sat across a coffee table from him on their sofa.
“I’ve freaked her out,” Travis said after LJ’s ass hit the cushion.
He grunted. “You sure as fuck have. Not sure I’ve ever seen her so nervous she’s crashing into shit.”
“Wasn’t my intention to throw her off her game. You either. Just…” He shrugged. “Sat through enough touchy feeling meetings and shit in prison, I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t like to let shit go unsaid. Got a lot to say to her.”
“I get that.” Fuck. Twelve years the man spent in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Holly’s father, who’d sent Travis away knowing his innocence of the accused crime, claimed the man deserved to be behind bars for a shit load of other wrongdoings. He’d felt justice had been served when Travis received a life sentence for the murder of Holly’s sister.
What a load of horse shit.
“You been in contact with my president?” Curly wore a leather jacket, but no MC colors. Seems as though he either hadn’t joined up with a club since being released from prison or he’d kept his colors off out of respect for the Handlers MC.
“I have. Going to introduce myself and pay my respects later today.”
Holly burst back into the room, carrying a large tray with three mugs of coffee and a heaping plate of the very cookies he’d been scolded for swiping just moments ago. LJ hid his smirk. Of course, Holly would mess up her own plans to make Travis comfortable. Now she’d probably be awake half the night re-baking cookies for Izzy.
His woman was too fucking sweet.
“Here we go.” Before LJ even had a chance to hop up and take the tray from her, she was placing it on the coffee table. “I have fresh coffee, sugar, milk, French vanilla creamer, and sugar substitute. There’s also cinnamon. Some people like that. I had no idea how you take your coffee. Um, these are some cookies I made earlier today. No nuts. In case you’re allergic to them. I’m a baker. Not that you care about that, but it’s why I had the cookies.” She spoke so fast, she had to inhale a huge breath at the end of that ramble.
“Sugar,” LJ said, grabbing a hand from where she wrung them in front of her. He tugged her down onto the couch next to him. “The man’s been in prison for twelve years,” he whispered in her ear. “Pretty sure you could give him yesterday’s coffee, and it’d be worlds better than what he’s used too.”
“LJ!” she said in the cutest stern tone he’d ever heard. “Don’t be rude.”
Travis just chuckled. “He’s got point, ma’am. I’m not picky.” He picked up a mug of coffee without doctoring it in any way and took a sip. Then he bit into a cookie.
