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“It’s beautiful,” she gushed.
“Just like you.”
She rose with me as I stood, and I sealed my lips over hers, claiming not only her heart and body, but also her hand in marriage.
CHAPTER7
TRAV & AINSLEY
~ CHRISTMAS DAY ~
TRAV’S POV
“Argh, this place gives me heartburn,” I grumbled, rubbing at my chest while driving one-handed through the gates at my parents’ house.
“Your mum is getting better,” Ainsley reasoned. “Compared to when I first met her.”
“Yeah, she’s less of a judgemental bitch than she was, but there’s still room for improvement.” I pulled to a stop without skidding and kicking up their driveway stones like I normally did, and scoffed at my brother’s Audi already sitting pride of place in the parking spaces.
“Fletcher is such a fucking show pony.”
Lee snickered and arched a brow at me. “I’m sensing a little jealousy.”
“Oh pa-lease, there is literally nothing about him I’m jealous of. This car is worth more than his twice over.”
Fletcher was my older brother and had a rod stuck so far up his ass I bet he felt like he was sucking cock all day. Though, word on the street—i.e. gossip from our mother—was that Fletch had found himself a new girlfriend that didn’t fit his usual stuck up standards (my words, not hers).
The one and only thing I was looking forward to during this Christmas lunch was seeing if Mum’s hypercritical tongue had been correct, or grossly blown out of proportion.
I met Lee at the forest-green-and-gold-striped hood of Rhiannon. Rhiannon was our 1969 Pontiac Firebird Trans AM. While I loved Maxine to death—the Chevy Impala that had popped my restoration cherry—the Firebird had always been my one true unicorn car. When one fell into my lap, I all but begged Ainsley to let me buy it as a restoration project we could work on together.
With only 697 ever being manufactured, this ‘69 model was as rare as fucking hen’s teeth, and lucky for me, Lee fell in love with minimal convincing.ButI did have to sell my other car-woman Maxine first.
“Is that everything?” Lee asked, eyeing the presents in my arms while she juggled platters of food.
“Yeah, I think so. Lead the way, Goat.”
She snorted at the nostalgic nickname. “You’re using me as a buffer again, Freak.”
“I’m not. Ladies first, remember.” Plus, it gave me a chance to stare at her ass as she climbed the steps to my parents’ front door.
The little tank and shorts jumpsuit showed so much of her skin and ink that I was sure my mother would purse her lips. Good thing Ainsley didn’t give a fuck—she stayed true to herself, always.
We didn’t bother with ringing the bell before entering the house. Succulent scents of Christmas ham, roasting turkey, and freshly baked bread greeted us.
We kicked off our jandals and padded barefoot into the expansive kitchen, living, and dining area.
“Hi guys,” Ainsley beamed. “Merry Christmas!”
Mum and Dad rose to their feet and hugged her after the food had been removed from her hands.
“You’re looking well, Ainsley. Merry Christmas, dear. And you, Travis, Merry Christmas.”
“You too, Mum.” I set the gifts on the counter and hugged my parents, then wiggled my eyebrows in silent acceptance when Dad offered me a beer.
“You’re not going to get drunk before lunch, are you Travis?” Mum admonished. “And take your hat off inside.”
I paused with the bottle poised at my lips. “Dunno yet. If lunch is still hours away, then yes, I’ll be drunk before lunch.”
