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“How do you do this? How can you act so normal?” I whisper over his lips.
He looks down at me and gives me a cocky grin. “They don't call me Stonewall Jackson for nothing, babe.”
“That's for dang sure. You couldn't have been born with a better name. It suits you perfectly.” I pull away from him, and he wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “At least tell me you’ve got nervous energy rolling through you on the inside.”
“I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t, but I only have nervous energy for your safety, not over mine,” he states seriously. He coaxes our bodies forward, and we begin walking again along the downtown streets of Raleigh. It’s fairly busy for midmorning, and thankfully, it’s not obnoxiously humid today.
I lean into the side of his muscled body, and he gives my shoulders a loving squeeze. This feels all too comfortable, familiar, and natural. Travis exudes a certain confidence, and it shows with every step he takes.
He looks down at me through those thick dark lashes and regards me with those sparkly green eyes. “Better?” He smiles, placing a chaste kiss on my temple. I nervously smile and slip my arm around his waist. “That's my girl. It's all going to play out fine; you'll see,” he tries to reassure me.
I steal a deep breath for courage, inhaling his manly scent, and snuggle my cheek into the side of his chest. I close my eyes for a moment and soak him in, pretending none of this chaos exists. I actually ponder what it'd be like if we were actually a normal couple just going for a walk in the city on a beautiful day.
I'm sure right now, with both of us having a relaxed demeanor as we walk snuggled against each other like two lovebirds, no one would even suspect we are on the run from a bunch of kidnappers and killers. However, the stiffness of the bulletproof vest that rests against my cheek tells me otherwise. I’m thankful for the protection and for the foresight of Travis and his men to have these vests, because I feel so open and exposed being out here in broad daylight like this. I just hope if we do get shot at, it won’t be in the head. What a terrible thought. A cold chill runs down my spine just thinking about it, and I cling a little tighter to Travis.
Our pace slows, and before I know it, Travis has steered us into a small cafe off the main street. I lift my head off his chest and look around, wondering what we’re doing in here.
“Thought you’d enjoy a little restaurant cuisine for a change,” he answers my unasked question. Then, he leans down and whispers in my ear, “Don’t worry; they have gluten-free options here. I already checked it out.” He pulls back and a smirk is plastered across those sexy lips of his like he’s proud of himself.
Travis lets go of me, places his hand on the small of my back in a protective gesture, and guides me to a booth.
“How did you know what I was thinking?” I ask indignantly.
He chuckles at me. “Jules, I’ve spent the better part of a month with you, in which the last of those two weeks we’ve been inseparable. I know how to read people, and most especially, I know how you operate,” he says as he taps the tip of my nose with his index finger.
I huff and slide into the booth while Travis snickers to himself, taking the seat across from me. “So, what are we doing here?”
“We’re eating an early lunch. I believe they call it brunch,” he says in a tone as if I should know.
“Well, duh. You know what I mean.” I give him a stern look, but before I can dig an answer out of him, a waitress appears at our booth.
She doesn’t even look my way as she asks Travis all sultry-like, “How can I help you?” Seriously? I wish I had on spiked high heels right now, because I’d use them to jab her in the eye. She really needs to wear a bib to catch her drool. My eyes narrow as I grow irritated, feeling an edge of jealousy coming on. I guess I haven’t ever been with Travis in public to see what other women’s reactions would be over his good looks and pretty-boy smile.
“Sweetheart?” Travis softly says, catching my attention while he slips his hands underneath mine. He lifts my hand with the engagement ring on it to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of my hand while his eyes gleam. He knows exactly what I’m thinking. Jerk. “Would you like something to drink?” he asks me, ignoring the waitress.
