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Travis assures me that Blake will be okay, that I didn’t do as much damage as I thought I had. It makes me feel somewhat better, but only a little.
“I really want to apologize to him,” I tell Travis, my voice heavy with guilt. The one time I try to defend myself it’s against someone trying to help me.
“Sweetpea, no apology is needed. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t asked him to keep his eyes on you. Neither of us expected you to even notice him, let alone that you would feel that you needed to defend yourself.”
I disagree with him, knowing that Blake had tried to talk to me, but I keep it to myself. I can already tell Travis isn’t going to accept that I’m as at fault as they are. More so, in fact.
After driving a short way we stop for breakfast at a roadside café. It’s much nicer than the one I work at. That isn’t saying much, since my work is a dive, but this place is cute. Maybe I can get a better job now that I don’t have to hide who I am. I already know that Travis won’t allow anything bad to happen to me. I’m looking forward to being myself again.
He catches me looking for the cheapest items on the menu. “Sweetpea, you don’t have to scrimp to save me a couple bucks. Get whatever sounds good.”
I am so used to counting every single penny that just thinking about spending without restricting myself makes me nervous. “If I order everything that sounds good, there is no way I could eat it all,” I tell him. “Everything sounds delicious.”
He smiles at me, a big happy smile that showcases his dimples, and points at the menu. “Choose, Faye. If you can’t finish it all, I will. Or you can bring it home with you.”
‘’Okay then,” I concede, scared and excited about just picking anything. I really want the taco omelet and the strawberry crepes with a mug of hot chocolate. And orange juice. So when the waitress returns with her little pad in hand I take a deep breath and order. Travis requests a bowl of oatmeal and fresh fruit. No wonder he looks so freaking amazing
It’s been a long time since I have had an opportunity to eat what I want, and now that the order has been placed, I'm almost bouncing in my seat with anticipation. I know that I’m too skinny. Stress, loneliness, and just being broke all the time doesn’t do much for my appetite. Today is the first time in a long while that I can actually say I’m ravenous.
“You do realize that the omelet comes with toast and home-fried potatoes?” the waitress asks me, her face showing her surprise at the amount of food I ordered. I nod, looking down at the table. I feel a little bashful, but I still want it all.
Shrugging, she jots it down and tops off Travis’ coffee with a flirtatious smile. I can’t stop my eye roll, not that I blame her. He is easy to look at, with his messy blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and scruffy face.
When our food comes, I dig right in. The omelet is fluffy and flavorful, bursting with seasoned beef and gooey with cheese. The crepes are perfect, and the fresh strawberries and whipped cream are exactly what I had hoped for. I can’t decide what I like better, so I alternate bites, moaning at the wonderful tastes. I should be embarrassed by the sounds I make, but I’m not. Years of cheap ramen noodles and frozen veggies could never taste this good.
We eat in silence until I slow down. Travis gestures to the plates in front of me. “Which one do you want me to finish?”
“I can’t decide. They are both so good.” I laugh, shoveling another bite in my mouth.
“I’m gonna eat your toast,” he says, reaching for the plate, and I smack at his hand.
Being with him is so strange. I feel all of the comfort and ease I had with him as a child, combined with all the feelings of the youthful love I felt for him as a teen. This awareness of him as a man is entirely new to me. It makes me feel off-balance and unsure of how I should act.
I never said a word to him about how my feelings had morphed into something else. Something more. I’m sure there is no way he could possibly feel the same way about me. We haven’t spent time together since I was a little girl. Everything he knows about me is from old letters and his teenage memories of an abused ten-year-old.
The thought is sobering, and a little depressing, causing my appetite to fade. With a sigh, I push the plate with the omelet toward him and take a small bite of sweet strawberry filling, my eyes focused on the table between us.
“What’s going on in your head, Sweetpea?” he asks, reaching across the table and tipping my chin up until my eyes meet his.
“Nothing. Just feeling a little embarrassed by how much I scarfed down.” I force a small laugh. I can tell that he knows I’m not being truthful, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I can also tell that he wants to push me for the truth. I’m grateful when he doesn’t. I’m not sure I could explain without sounding kind of crazy. He’d never believe that I’m in love with him after all these years. I’m not even sure he would have believed it if I had told him years ago. Why would he think my feelings would be anything other than a childish infatuation?
“Don’t ever be embarrassed by anything you do, Faye,” he says, a smile curling the corners of his full, soft-looking lips. The look in his eyes is sincere. Intense. I look away again, unable to maintain the contact. Mumbling a sound of agreement, I bob my head and take another bite of my food.
Travis
I’m not sure what is going through her head, but I’d like to know. It’s deeper than that—I’m compelled to know. I can barely stand not being able to read her clearly. It’s crazy for me to be feeling like this, so when she makes a lame excuse about being embarrassed I let it slide. I know that if I try to push her before she is ready I may never get a chance to tell her how I feel. I can’t just blurt it out and frighten her.
I'm happy that she seems to recover from the awkward moment. She polishes off the last of her crepes and half of her toast before pushing the last two slices to me. She won’t be missing any more meals if I can do anything about it. When she places her silverware on her plate and cleans up the area around her she smiles at me, her golden eyes sparkling.
“Thank you for breakfast, Travis. It was amazing.” She rubs a hand over her belly and slides to the end of the booth. I stand up, offering my hand to pull her from the booth to stand beside me.
Dropping a couple bills on the table to cover our tab, I slide my arm over her shoulders, leading her outside. I'm finally bringing her home, and I never intend to have another day go by where she isn’t at my side.
Chapter Nine
Faye
After breakfast, we head over to my little apartment so I can pack up the rest of my things and say my see-you-laters to Chuck. I’m a bit nervous about moving in with Travis. I don’t know how to handle my feelings for him, but he insisted that he isn’t going to accept me staying anywhere else. Chuck seemed happy that I would be moving out and I know that I wasn’t supposed to over hear it, but he let Travis know that he would be checking up on me. Travis didn’t seem offended at all by the growled warning. He just smiled and clapped a heavy hand onto the older man’s shoulder. Guys confuse me.
