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“Right.”
He scowled at the bag. “Going home is that important?”
“It’s everything,” she replied.
“You’ve heard the saying you can never go home again, right?”
“Yes.” A saying that had never been true for her. Gram always reminded Lila she had a place to call home. “I’m sureI’ll bump into challenges,” she allowed. Brookwell was a small community. A factor that was both a pro and con in Lila’s opinion.
Sadness clouded his eyes, making her wonder. Was going home hard for him? Is that why he’d chosen a career that meant living out of a suitcase? She remembered feeling untethered when she’d been with her parents. Remembered when everything had changed and loading the car for what her mother called a “midnight adventure” wasn’t fun anymore.
Then she pulled herself together. His past wasn’t her business. Although she was happy to have him starring in her private fantasies, that was completely irrelevant. She needed to park herself in the professional-distance zone, ignoring any concerns about what might’ve been hard times in Travis’s past.
Concerned he might still think she was involved with the thefts, she asked, “What are you going to do about this?”
He puffed out his cheeks on a sigh. “I’ll take it and get a police report started.”
“You aren’t telling the captain?”
His jaw set as if that was the worst idea. “I will, yes.”
She folded her arms. “So if it’s not me, you think he’s involved.”
He rolled his eyes. “I find that highly unlikely, Chef.”
“But it’s easy to believeI’ma thief.” She knew it was her old baggage talking and she hadn’t quite mustered outrage as much as sheer offense. Couldn’t help it. If a security expert saw a potential thief in her after all this time, what else did she need to change?
“You were the person in possession of stolen goods,” he pointed out calmly. “When I walked in, you were so engrossed you didn’t hear me at the door.”
Hard to argue with the truth. Her thoughts were circling and getting her nowhere. “As long as your report doesn’t imply I’minvolved, have at it.” She stepped as far away as the tiny space allowed.
It wasn’t far enough. He moved to collect the bag and her heart rate kicked up. The man smelled so good. Salt and sea air, and something warm underneath that was justhim.
“What should I do if the real thief comes looking?”
“That’s not likely while we’re underway.”
It made her uneasy to think someone on the crew was behind this. “Humor me,” she urged.
“If anyone goes looking for sparkly potatoes, call me,” he said.
Not the assurance she’d hoped for, but what else could he do? “Will you trace the serial numbers on those watches?”
He hefted the bag in his hand. “I’m sure the police will.”
“Right. Okay, then.” She needed him out of her space. Needed time to think. Did she dare poke around for the latest whereabouts of her parents?
No. She couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t. The odds of this being tied to her were slim to none. Opening that can of worms and taking a chance they caught wind of her query wasn’t worth the potential fallout.
He opened the door and stepped out into the kitchen. She followed, grateful they were still alone.
“Will you let me know what you find out?”
“Why?” That singular eyebrow lifted again.
“Curiosity.” She held up her hands, surrendering. “Forget I asked. Apologies.”
It was for the best if she didn’t know any further details. She had a bakery to inherit and a fabulously quiet, routine life ahead of her.
