Page 48 of Keeping Secrets

He was right on time.

Forcing herself to breathe, she went to open the door. Her smile felt shaky, but her energy began to settle as soon as she met his eyes. There was something about him, about his energy. When she was away from him, thinking about him, wondering, she felt incredibly nervous. But when she was near him, she felt content. Settled, in the best way. Safe.

Don’t go looking for fireworks, her sponsor had advised. When you find a man who settles your nervous system instead of throwing it all out whack, he’s the keeper.

“Hi,” she greeted him on an exhale, almost a sigh of relief.

“Hi.” He grinned, and his eyes held hers for a long moment. “Ready to go?”

“Yep.” She grabbed her purse and coat from the table next to the door, then closed it behind her and locked up. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” He opened the passenger-side door for her. “If that’s okay.”

“Sure,” she agreed as she climbed in. “That’s okay.”

Her nerves jangled again as he shut the door and she sat there waiting, but they began to settle again as soon as he was seated next to her. They were quiet for a moment as he turned the car around. A mournful bluegrass song played on the car stereo.

“You like bluegrass?” she asked quietly.

“I like just about everything, minus the autotune stuff. Luckily Scot doesn’t allow any of that. He likes the older stuff.”

“Like Elvis.”

“Yeah, a lot of Elvis. He’ll let me play some new stuff if it’s good. Indie music.” The voice on the speakers continued to croon, and Travis glanced at her as he drove slowly through town. “I can change it if you’d like.”

“No, I like it.” The music was sweet and sad. It made her chest ache in a good way. “How’s Scot doing?”

“About the same,” he said quietly. “Doctors are still trying to figure out exactly what’s going on with him. He doesn’t communicate with me much.”

“Seems he communicates with you more than anybody.”

“Yeah, well.” Travis chuckled, but it sounded sad. “That doesn’t say much.”

“I think it says a lot. He’s a private, guarded person – but he trusts you.”

“He’s known me a long time.”

“Nearly as long as I have,” she said with a grin.

He smiled at her, then refocused on the road as he pulled out onto the highway.

“I remember when you and Nick egged the Peterson house.”

He gave her a wide-eyed glance. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It was after Blake Peterson pushed your bike down into the ravine. Nick took all of the eggs that we were going to dye for Easter, and you two chucked them at his house.”

“We’re upstanding citizens. We would never.”

“You might be upstanding citizens now, but I knew you when you were just a couple of miscreants.”

“You must have me confused with someone else,” he said in a playful tone.

She laughed. “I followed you!”

“You did not! You must have been, what, like seven years old?”

“Yep. But I did, I followed you two out and down the block. I was going to run up and start throwing eggs with you, but then Blake’s grandma came out and started throwing eggs back.” She laughed. “You two ran home so fast you didn’t even see me standing there by the hedge.”

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