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Travis walks back in with a cooler and grocery totes, eyes Pepper on the rug staring at Trixie, and passes her for the kitchen, setting everything down. Then he’s at Pepper’s side, squatting down beside her. “Vorsicht.” Travis pets Trixie with slow, soft strokes. “We have to be gentle with little Trixie, Pepper.”
Pepper whines and scoots closer to Trixie, leaning in to sniff her. Trixie jerks back, studies Pepper for a moment, then pads across the blanket and meows. After a few more whiffs, Trixie jumps off the couch and weaves between Pepper’s legs, purring.
“Fast friends,” Travis says, the smile in his voice matching the one on his face. “Let’s unpack.”
I unload the cooler and totes, leaving the guys to figure out who gets what drawer in the dresser next to the stairwell. Shouldn’t cause too much drama, right?
While I figure out what to make for dinner, Travis starts a fire in the wood stove in the living room, then goes upstairs. Ben scans the built-in shelves on the wall opposite the couch, perusing the decent library of books and board games. I have yet to see a television, but there is a Bluetooth radio and landline phone on one of the shelves.
I cook the most basic of meals—lightly seasoned chicken breasts, brown rice, and broccoli—but both guys smile when I set their plates on the bar… on the same side. Not that I amforcingthem to get along, but they need to find middle ground. So while we eat, I stand with no one at my side.
Since it’s still somewhat early when we finish dinner, Ben suggests we play a game. He grabs UNO off the shelf and a wave of nostalgia hits.
As kids, Ben and I played UNO so much the cards had curled and peeled and torn. Every time he won, I huffed and tossed my cards. He would laugh far too long at my tantrum, shuffle the cards, then ask to play again. Mad as I was, I always said yes, swearing I’d beat him. Because more often than not, I won.
Sitting on the floor next to the coffee table, Ben takes the cards from the box and shuffles them. “Ready to get your ass handed to you, sparkles?”
Eyes narrowed, I purse my lips and stomp across the room, lowering to the floor to sit at the table. “In your dreams, Benji.”
Lips pursed and eyes slightly narrowed, Travis joins us at the table. He doesn’t say a word as Ben deals the cards. Doesn’t look at either of us as the muscles in his jaw flex. Envy pulses off him in red, insecure waves. My fingers twitch, eager to reach under the table and touch him. Gift him a small token of reassurance, silently convey there is no need for jealousy.
But I keep my hands to myself.
Everyone has a past. Ben was part of mine for several years. Circumstances ripped us apart and we lost touch over the years. But this version of Ben, though much of him is the same, a lot of him is different. This Ben is new to me too.
One round after another, we relax and lower our walls. Grow more comfortable around each other. We tease and laugh and cheer like lunatics when we win. A few games in, the guys make a pact to beat me, regardless which of them it is. I smile at their camaraderie but pout that they are ganging up against me. At one point, when we all have too many cards in our hands, I whip out the big guns. Slap action card after action card on the table. Watch the guys wince while I belly laugh.
When I lay my last card on the stack, a Wild card, Ben shakes his head and laughs.
“Always the Wild card, sparkles.”
Although he means the game card, a tightness forms beneath my diaphragm. An eerie silence settles in the room and no one moves. Thick, palpable tension bounces between us as I lick my dry lips.
I jolt with a squeal when a hand rests on my thigh under the table. My eyes shoot to Travis and he mouths, “Sorry.” With a stroke of his thumb, he scoots back, rises to his full height, and extends his hand my way. “It’s late. We should get some sleep.”
If the air was thick seconds ago, it’s downright insufferable now.
Not sure why, but this feels like a test—of my will, of my allegiance, of my sanity. Travis and I may not have explicitly defined our relationship, but wearein a relationship. To make anyone believe otherwise would not only hurt Travis, it would be a lie.
I take his hand and let him pull me up. “Where is the extra bedding?”
He presses his lips to my forehead and steals my breath. “Be right back.” He wanders to the back of the cabin, into the alcove behind the kitchen.
I scoop up Trixie, rub behind her ears, then kiss the top of her head as I cuddle her to my chest.
With sheets and a blanket in one hand and a pillow in the other, Travis returns and places them at the end of the couch. “There’s more if you need ’em, man.”
Yeah, this is awkward as hell.
Ben rubs the back of his neck and nods. “Thanks.” His eyes shift to mine for three wild heartbeats. “Sweet dreams, sparkles.”
I roll my lips between my teeth. “You too. Night, Benji.”
And as Travis and I climb the stairs toward the bed, Ben’s unrelenting stare heats every inch of my skin.
TWENTY-EIGHT
TRAVIS
