Page 42 of Avenged

He grinned and said, “Pulled a motor on a cigar boat and proceeded to overhaul it.”

“You’re smiling,” I said like an idiot, but he was, and Dawson didn’t smile very often, unless it was at my little sister.

“Best day I’ve had in a long time. Then, I come home, and you’ve cooked for us. It’s almost like a fairy tale.”

I rolled my eyes. “Hardly. And don’t get too excited; it isn’t anything special.”

“It’s at home and not eating out, which is pretty much how Trav and I live most days.” He turned and walked down the hall, shouting back, “I’m going to shower, but don’t let him eat it all before I come back out.”

“I don’t think he could eat it all,” I hollered.

“You haven’t really watched him eat then,” he said as the bathroom door slammed shut.

The garlic bread timer went off, and I pulled it out of the oven just as the front door opened again. I glanced up and then quickly looked away before my eyes were drawn back again. Travis in his uniform was always hard to look away from. There was just something about it that made him look extra handsome. Like seeing Captain America in his uniform instead of a T-shirt. It added a layer of nuance to him which screamed good guy.

It only took two steps for him to be standing in the kitchen, swirling his keys on a finger. “You cooked.”

I chuckled. “Dawson said the same thing.”

The shower was still running, so he didn’t ask where he was at.

“It’s almost ready, but I wasn’t sure if either of you would be hungry yet. I can just put it in the oven on warm,” I told him as he came in closer. He kept coming until our shoes were touching and our arms were colliding. He looked down into my face as he reached around me. I held my breath and stared at his chin, where his five o’clock shadow was showing. Light stubble you would hardly ever notice until you were close enough, because of his pale hair. Like mine. We matched in so many ways, hair being the least of it.

He snatched a piece of garlic bread and then stepped back, but just barely. Our bodies were almost touching, and the air between them was like a magnetic force. Or more like a grappling hook was tying us together, daring us to hit rewind and draw it in. He bit into the garlic bread and closed his eyes. “God, that’s good.”

I watched as he chewed and swallowed. A simple act which shouldn’t be sexy, and yet, with the feelings wafting between us, it was hard to not see it as a sexual act.

“Sorry to interrupt this cozy little scene, but am I actually going to be able to eat any of that?” Dawson teased, causing the tantalizing tension between us to break apart. I turned back to the cupboards to pull down the plates, and Travis stepped backward.

We all dished up and sat down at the table. I was pretty sure they were used to eating on the couch in front of the TV, but Mandy and Leena had insisted on the table if any or all of us were home, and I kind of liked it. It was something I’d missed after my mom died. If Dad had been home, he would have been halfway through a bottle by the time dinner was ready. If he ate at all, he’d eat standing up and then take the rest of the bottle back to his bedroom with him. After the accident, Violet and I had lived in so many places, with so little furniture, that we were often eating on beds. Sitting down at a table might seem like a simple act, but to me, it felt like family. That thought had my throat closing up and lodged the sausage from the spaghetti sauce in the middle of my throat. All of a sudden, I was choking.

Travis dropped his fork and came around the table to me. “Can you talk?”

He was already in Coast Guard rescue mode. I read it in his stance. I nodded my head, tears leaking, and took a sip of water, coughing some more. He seemed like he was ready to give me the Heimlich if I didn’t respond soon. “I’m good. Just got caught in the wrong pipe.”

The words were said between more coughing and more drinking, but he got the idea I wasn’t going to die. There was no need for him to save me yet again.

“Sorry,” I said, waving my hand.

He seemed to relax and sat back down. I looked over at Dawson, and he had a funny look on his face, as if something had amused him. Better amused than angry, I supposed. Ever since we’d moved in, he’d seemed a little different than he’d been at Mandy and Leena’s. As if there was something slowly letting go of him, or maybe him letting go of the anger. Maybe it was the job that kept him busy doing something he liked, maybe it was just time, but instead of making me worry less about Violet, it made me worry more, because the lighter Dawson was even more attractive. In a completely different way than his brother, and in a way that did nothing for my pulse, whereas his brother seemed to boil my blood with a look.

Dawson was the first one to finish up, taking his plate and silverware and putting them in the dishwasher. “Thanks for dinner, Jers. I’m off.” He grabbed his phone and wallet and headed toward the door.

“You going to the bar again?” Travis asked, and I could tell he was trying really hard to keep the judgment out of his tone, because I’d done the same thing with Violet a million times. It didn’t matter; Dawson and I both heard it.

“Relax, Dad. Rusty hired me as an extra bouncer during the summer tourist season,” Dawson said.

“You got a second job?” Travis sounded surprised. I wondered if Dawson had done it on purpose. I wondered if he’d done it so he wouldn’t be around Violet as much, and it made me wonder if I’d been misjudging him all along.

Dawson shrugged. “I was there anyway. Better there and sober than there and drunk, right?”

“But why would Rusty offer it to you?” Travis asked, and that one question wiped Dawson’s easy aura away. He was right back to bottled up, angry Dawson in the time it took Travis to say those eight words.

“Because not everyone thinks I’m a total screwup.”

I suddenly felt uncomfortable. This was a conversation they should be having without another pair of eyes and ears overseeing it.

“You know I don’t think that,” Travis countered, but Dawson’s answer was the slam of the door behind him.

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