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“I’m not upset,” I said, letting the suspicion and concern fall from my face as I turned to face my husband. “I’m fine. Really.”
“You still think those guys with their tiny noodle arms are rogue FBI or something?” he teased.
Travis’s birthday was in a few days, and I knew he was already teetering on turning himself in. There were plenty of reasons to lie.
I looked out the window to the side mirror, noting that a pair of headlights were hanging back almost a mile behind us. “No. I don’t think they’re anyone. False alarm.”
Travis patted my knee and drove toward the apartment, smiling like everything hadn’t changed—and I smiled with him.
Chapter Nine
Wrecked
Travis
“BABY! I WANTED A LATEsnack. Stir fry in five!” Abby called from the kitchen.
“Awesome, I don’t know why but I’ve been hungry since about an hour after dinner,” I said, staring into the bathroom mirror.
I walked into the kitchen and kissed her cheek.
She looked at me, a concerned expression on her face. “You okay? It was the first day back to classes, the first time to see Keaton after the fire. Maybe we should’ve skipped The Red tonight and gone to bed early.”
“I haven’t been sleeping great. I think I hit a wall. I feel like I can barely keep my eyes open.”
Her eyebrows pulled in. “You look exhausted. Take a shower and go to bed. We’ll eat in there.”
“In bed?”
“Yep, I’ll get the trays out and we’ll have a quick picnic and hit the sack.”
“You are an angel,” I said, giving her a peck before trudging to the shower.
The water ran over me, but where it usually woke me up, I just felt more tired. Wasting no time, I scrubbed and stepped out, wrapping a towel around my waist and padded in my still damp feet to the bedroom.
Abby handed me a pair of shorts and once I got them on, I climbed in bed. She sat a tray over my lap, and I leaned back.
“Swear to God, babe. I don’t deserve you.”
She sat next to me, grabbing a fork and shoveling food into my mouth. “If you didn’t, I wouldn’t be handfeeding you stir fry in bed. You absolutely deserve it.”
I chewed and then leaned my head back again.
There were so many things I loved about Abby, and I hadn’t even seen this side of her yet. She’d always been a little aloof, just beyond reach, and now she’d settled in, gotten comfortable, and—though I’d never say this out loud—seemed to be enjoying being a doting wife.
“Don’t expect it every night,” she winked, standing.
“There she is,” I said with a smile. I stabbed some veggies with my fork and shoved a huge bite into my mouth.
Abby turned for the hallway and I mumbled for her to stop before I could swallow.
“What?” she asked.
“Where are you going?”
She pointed to the hallway. “Dishes.”
“No fuckin’ way. You cooked.”
