Page 9 of Never Say Never

We’re oil and water. Peanut butter and molasses. Mixing us together just results in a hot mess that no one wants to be a part of.

“Right behind you.” Taking a deep breath, I walk up the steps and follow him into his personal space, completely unprepared for what comes next.

I am nowhere near Kansas anymore, that’s for sure. We’re standing in a mudroom that is not only clean but extremely organized. It’s like I stepped into one of those home magazines that stores try to convince people they can use to model their homes after. Travis peels off his boots and nods to my feet expectantly. I remove my Muck boots before following him into the living room.

It's gorgeous. With walls the color of cocoa, the bright pictures hanging on the wall pop against the backdrop. An oversized couch in sea green with comfy-looking teal and brown cushions faces the television, with an oak coffee table in front of it. Down the hall a light’s shining dimly in the kitchen, illuminating a walkway that holds more photos. This is the kind of place I’ve always thought of when I’ve pictured what a home might look like. Somewhere warm and comforting and with someone to share. Someone special. Like what my grandparents had tried to give me when they’d finally found me.

But it isn’t the same.

Their house was home, too, eventually, and they loved me unconditionally. But I didn’t get to keep them in my life long before they died. And family isn’t the same as making your own mark on the world, on carving out your own happy spot, creating your own home from the bones you find around you.

“My place get your stamp of approval?”

Heat burns up my throat to my face. “I was just looking, I’m—”Embarrassed beyond belief.

“Let’s pretend we’re strangers and just start all over again. From the beginning.”

He smiles at me, holding out his hand like I’m a complete stranger. “Hi, Brandi, I’m Travis. Glad to be able to offer you a place for the night. Or what’s left of the night, I guess, since it’s getting pretty late.”

I stare at him and start to smile, unable to stop myself from reacting to the uncharacteristic show of sweetness he’s displaying. My toes curl in my socks as warmth spreads through me from the tip of my spine all the way down to my fingertips. “Thank you, Travis. You have a beautiful home, and I really do appreciate you letting me stay here instead of sleeping in the gym at the school.”

“You can thank my mom who thinks she’s my cleaner.” He shakes his head and laughs, embarrassment crinkling his eyes as he smiles. “You’d think I was hopeless and completely incapable of doing anything to take care of my own house.”

“Are you?” I stop, horrified I’d said that, and I fist my hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Stop apologizing.” He laughs. “I kinda am. Hopeless, that is. I get too busy to care about shit like cleaning or cooking or anything like that, and it makes her feel better to—um, help out with some of stuff I don’t get to.” He shrugs and I get the feeling he stopped himself from saying something else. “Moms.”

I wouldn’t know, but I keep that to myself, pressing my lips together as tightly as I can before I say something to ruin the good mood.

When I feel like I’m not about to bite his head off just for talking about something I never had, I offer him another smile and look around again. “Well, your mom does an amazing job.” I reach for something else to say but a wave of exhaustion rocks me to my core. Besides, this is the first time we’re talking about anything real, and I don’t want to be the one to end the conversation.

He shakes his head and pulls out his phone to type a text. “I’ll let her know someone besides me appreciates it. I’m sure it’ll be the highlight of her night.”

I suck in a breath. “Well… If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love a shower and maybe if I could wash my clothes for tomorrow? I don’t know when I’ll be able to get off the island.”

“Yeah, of course. The bathroom’s upstairs, first door on the right, next to the bedroom. Let me show you where the towels are and get you something to wear.” He walks down the hallway, and I follow behind him, trying to stay back a few feet.

We enter his immaculate kitchen. Black appliances against light blue walls gleam in the soft lighting. He turns left and starts climbing a set of carpeted stairs, and oh, Jesus, that tall, lean body with the broad shoulders and straight back… My stomach spins against my will. He definitely looks good in his uniform.

What does he look like out of it?

Hell, the man is stunning. I bet when he’s naked and having kinky fun, he’s even hotter.

My cheeks warm again as I follow him, and I breathe a sigh of relief that the lights aren’t on upstairs.

There’s no chance of him seeing the look on my face or the flush. He won’t know I’m fantasizing about the things we could do together.

The hall we’re walking down is narrow and I accidentally take a step too close. His masculine scent teases me, reminding me of a campfire mixed with whiskey. I fight the urge to reach out and touch him.

Which would be averybad idea.

What I need is to shower and get sleep and tomorrow the world will be back to normal and Travis will hate me again.

Our night of temporary peace will be over.

That’s what I need.

Although I hope it doesn’t go back to normal.

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