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Which was why she hoped that hot and sexy would be enough. From her closet she’d found a white halter top and a short sequined peach skirt, both of which had been gifts from her former husband. In hindsight, his desire for her to dress as a slutty coed should have been her first clue of how things were going to work out. Miraculously, the skirt had slid up over her full hips, and a quick scan in the mirror had surprised her. The skirt, combined with the four-inch strappy gold sandals, make her legs actually look longer. That had to be a bonus, right?
The top was where she was more concerned, as, even now, she tugged at the neckline that nearly revealed enough cleavage to make the whole thing irrelevant.
But seeing Travis’s face go slack with surprise when he saw her waiting at the front door had assured her this was the right choice. Especially when she’d had to repeat her question if he was ready to go. He’d had to clear his throat to form a reply.
Oh, yeah. It had definitely been worth it.
And even though Travis hadn’t changed into anything different, wearing the same jeans that molded perfectly to his quads and ass and the short-sleeved black tee that was more like a second skin over his hard, sculpted torso, the look worked for him. She risked a glance over at him, his hand casually on the wheel. Yeah, he’d do just fine.
But she had to focus. This wasn’t a date.
This was maybe their best chance of finding her daughter.
The ping from Travis’s cell phone caught her attention, and he picked it up and glanced down. “Text from Bryce. He’s running late but should be here in half an hour.”
“Here?”
He turned right at the next block. “Here as in…we’re here.”
A familiar old three-story building sat on the corner lot. Even from the street outside, she could hear music blaring with every swing of the front doors as patrons mounted the steps and entered the establishment.
“I know this place.” Surreal. Once upon a time this was the hangout for students from the U and anyone else who had a fake ID—her included. “This doesn’t look like an abandoned building, though.”
“From what Bryce said, whoever organizes these events has used this place before on the weekends. There’s a third floor that’s private.”
She scanned the sidewalk, where gaggles of girls in their early twenties, wearing tiny outfits and dangerously high shoes like hers, were making their way to the club. Any doubts she’d had about fitting in almost melted away entirely. Save for maybe a handful of years, she didn’t appear that much different from these women. She just felt different.
Probably having to do with raising a teenager daughter for the past seven years.
They drove farther down the street until Travis found a spot to park the car. He glanced around, then reached over to open the glove box and grabbed a gun.
Meredith watched in shock as he did a check of the weapon and then tucked it in some kind of holster on his left side before pulling his T-shirt back down to cover his waistband.
How long had he been carrying that thing?
It made the danger of the whole situation hit home, and she sat frozen in her seat while Travis came around to open her door.
“Second thoughts?” Travis asked from above her. “I can do this myself, Meredith, if you want to stay out here.” He didn’t sound condescending, though, as he said it. If anything, maybe a tad too excited at the prospect of leaving
her behind.
“Not a chance. Let’s do this,” she said with tons more confidence than she felt. With her cell phone and driver’s license in her hand, she climbed out, conscious of Travis’s attention on her legs and hips as she smoothed her skirt down. She swallowed, too aware of the heat that burned in her belly at the appreciation in those green eyes before he looked away.
“Let’s get going,” he said.
They followed behind a group who looked like they’d already started the celebrations, some of the girls wavering as they walked. Meredith’s own excitement and nerves propelled her forward, wanting to overtake and pass the group in her eagerness to get inside and find some answers.
Travis grabbed her elbow and drew her back. “Slow down,” he said under his breath. “You’re supposed to look like you’re heading in to have fun—not interrogate and decimate every person you come into contact with.”
This time he placed his hand around her waist, and she nearly jumped out of her heels from the unexpected contact. “Relax. Remember. We need to look like a couple. Try and act like you like me.”
Something that shouldn’t be too hard. Considering she’d been trying hard to disguise how much she was coming to like the stupid guy.
At the door, they held their IDs out, although Meredith couldn’t help noticing the guy barely glanced at the IDs before passing them through.
“Here,” Travis asked, holding his hand out. “Want me to put those in my pocket?”
She handed over her ID but stared down at the cell phone. Her lifeline to Darcy. She couldn’t part with it. “I’m going to hold onto this,” she said, and looked down for somewhere to keep it. She settled on slipping it into the front of her top, sandwiching it, for lack of a better term, between her ample breasts.
