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But then she’d seen his eyes—and there was no mistaking those eyes.
Of all the people to show up in her life,now, why was itTravis Barnes?
But then again, thinking of the shape Miles was in, was shesurprised?
She shouldn’t be.
The sight of Travis, even as pale and ragged as he looked, hit her like a punch to the gut, to the heart.
She wanted to stare, greedily imprint the image of him as a fully-grown male on her mind. He was whipcord lean,toolean, it seemed, especially with the wide wall of those shoulders, but still, fucking beautiful. His jawline was granite hard and square, overwhelmingly masculine, saving his face from beingtoopretty.
Somehow, some way, italmostdidn’t seem right, didn’t seem to fit the picture she’d always had in her head of him. But it had been years, hadn’t it?
And those eyes ... those eyes were unmistakable. Heart-stopping.
Travis ...
Lloyd’s screeching interrupted the spiral of her thoughts and she jerked her gaze away to glare at the man who had become a monster pain in her ass.
Just then, she really wanted to kick her neighbor, even if he literallywasdown. Maybe she wouldn’t discipline Brooklyntoohard about ... whatever had happened. She had absolutely no doubt that whatever had happened, Travis’s version was much closer to the truth than whatever tale Lloyd wanted to sell her.
Taking a deep breath, she looked at two of her foster kids. “Back to the house. Now.”
“But—”
“C’mon, Brooks,” Aaron said, his quiet voice and quick, meek look getting through to the little general in princess clothing in a way Isabel couldn’t do even if she yelled at the top of her lungs.
Not that yelling was her thing. Brooklyn just adored Aaron and had almost from the first time they’d met not even six months earlier.
As the two kids walked back to the house, she shifted her attention to Brant. Her narrow-eyed look had his face going red and hot and he backed up several steps, shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Do you really want to grow up being the kind of person who picks on weaker people, Brant?” she asked.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, eyes jerking toward her, then away.
His dad snarled, face still in the dirt.
“Don’t talk to my boy, bitch.”
The rage in his voice had the blood draining out of Brant’s face until he was all big, scared eyes and nerves.
“Go home,” she mouthed to him.
He didn’t respond, but she wasn’t surprised to see him spin on his heel and take off running.
Wordlessly, she directed her attention to Travis.
He was still staring at her, one hand controlling Lloyd’s body with ridiculous ease. His free arm was tucked in close to his side, the position awkward, almost unnatural.
“Let him go.” She didn’t ask.
But Travis complied, releasing Lloyd and backing up a few steps as Lloyd came surging up, one hand swinging in a wild punch.
Travis had moved toward her and without her quite realizing how he’d done it, he put his body between her and Lloyd, moving her several steps back and well out of range of Lloyd’s clumsy attempts to strike.
Lloyd spun around, his eyes landing on Travis, then shifting to Isabel, fury a vibrant glint in his gaze.
“You ever put your hands on this woman or any of her kids, I won’t stop with a warning next time,” Travis said, his voice so cold and flat, it sent shivers down her spine just to hear it. “I’ll break bones—more than one. You’ll be trapped flat on your ass healing for months, and that’s if I’m in a good mood. And if I see that kid of yours with even amarkon him tomorrow, if he evenmovesfunny, I’m going to drag you kicking and screaming from your bed and beat you to a bloody pulp.”
