Page 34 of Crashed

“Four, at the moment. They keep me busy.” She managed a smile as she stood, Miles’ first aid kit in hand. “I need to put this back.”

When she returned, Travis was easing his way into a clean, faded t-shirt he must have pulled from the basket of laundry that waited on a recliner. She was about to ask if he needed anything, manners delaying her urgent need for escape.

But then he looked at her, hair rumpled from the shirt he’d pulled on, his blue-green eyes as beautiful as they’d been the first time she’d seen him.

“Four foster kids,” he murmured. “That’s pretty amazing. How many kids do you have of your own?”

She froze, her heart jumping up to settle in her throat while an ache that would never really disappear settled in the pit of her stomach.

And he saw. Damn him for still being able to read her.

“Isabel?” He frowned, taking a wary step toward her.

“None,” she said. The single word sounded hollow even to her. “I don’t have kids of my own, Travis.”

I don’t. And I never will.

She grabbed her kit from the table and started for the front door, acutely aware Travis was watching her.

She didn’t look back.

“Take care of that injury,” she snapped as she opened the door. There, she stopped and looked back at him. “And for fuck’s sake, ask a doctor about a better antibiotic. You better do it before you end up collapsing because if I have to call the ambulance, I’m going to tear Miles a new one. I don’t care how sick he is.”

She turned.

“Wait.”

Shock had a gasp breaking free and she turned, looking down at the hand Travis had wrapped around her elbow.

How had he moved so fast? So quietly?

She went to jerk her arm free, a scathing retort burning its way to the tip of her tongue.

But then she saw Travis’s expression.

“What do you mean by that ... how sick Miles is? And for that matter, I thought hewassick ... ” He must have seen something on her face, even though she tried to hide it, because his voice trailed off, awareness dawning in his gaze.

As his hand fell away, Isabel closed her eyes and swore, low and hard.

Damn you, Miles.

“Isabel?” The roughness of his tone had her looking back at him.

And despite how he’d hurt her, she felt her heart twist in her chest. “Shit, Travis. I’m sorry. He hasn’t told you, has he?”

A muscle pulsed in his jaw. He said nothing.

And that was answer enough.

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