Page 46 of Travis

“Sure? You look a little nervous.” he asks, taking a step towards me. I want to hold him so bad, suddenly, but I don’t give in, for many reasons, mainly because Greg is going to walk in that door any second. Setting my mind, keeping my feet firmly planted on the floor, I lift a hand. “Travis, really, this wedding is crazy. I have so much to do.”

“Well, where’s your handy helper?” he asks, not trying to keep the coldness out of his voice.

I hear Greg’s car pull up outside. Travis looks out the window and my heart sinks. “I didn’t want to upset you, but, yes, we have work to do, and our base is here.”

Travis places his hands on my waist. “Becky, I know you’re under a lot of pressure, darlin’. I’m not here to cause trouble. I’ll go.”

We search each other’s eyes. I want to kiss him, and he wants to kiss me, but instead, I swallow back the urge and take a step back from him. “Thanks, Travis. I appreciate that.”

He walks to the box that he pulled from the basement, and I feel like he’s taking his time doing this, just so that he can be here when Greg walks in. He can easily go out the side or the back door, but he’s making a meal out of retaping the box back up. “Travis?” I say, not keeping the urgency out of my voice.

“Yeah.” he says, just as I hear a tap on the front door.

“Can you...go?”

“Sure.”

I go to the door to let Greg in, and Travis is still taping the box. I sigh, opening the door with an eye-roll. “Hey,” Greg says tentatively, eyes scanning the room. “You got company?” He looks over at Travis. Travis tips his Stetson in a hello, but he doesn’t say anything to him. “Oh, hey, sorry. Sh...should I come back later?”

“No, it’s fine.” I answer. “Travis is just picking something up.”

“Okay.” Greg nods, tentatively stepping inside the house. I’ll admit that he seems intimidated by Travis. My ex-husband is a little taller, and built a little more imposing than Greg here. Sure, it looks like Greg spends some time at the gym, but he’s got manicured fingernails and perfectly coiffed hair. He’s the poster boy for trust fund kids, whereas Travis was raised on a farm, and used to working with his hands, so he’s rugged and he’s got that virile fire in his eyes at times. He’s full of a different kind of determination. I know who I’d rather be stuck on a deserted island with, that’s for sure.

Plus, Travis hasn’t got a lick of trepidation in his face. In fact, I think that if Greg were to have a slip of the tongue, Travis would be slick and quick, making Greg’s pretty head spin. As Travis lifts the box, something falls out of it, but he doesn’t notice. I walk over and pick it up. It’s an old birthday card to Travis from his mama. And it suddenly hits me. Travis’s birthday is very soon, in fact, it’s before the wedding. This will be his first birthday since we separated. I hand him the card and it’s like we’re both thinking the same thing.

“Here you go.” I stammer, handing him back the card. I can tell by his face that he wants to say something, but his gaze moves to Greg, who is standing by the table, taking things out of his goddamn briefcase again. That thing is like a pacifier to him, I think.

“Do you two need some privacy?” Greg asks, not lifting his gaze.

“No, it’s fine.” I answer.

“Actually, do you mind, man?” Travis asks boldly, and I look at him like he’s just asked me to show him my panties in front of Greg.

“I’ll just be in the washroom.” Greg says, leaving the room.

“It’s my lucky number.” Travis says. And it takes me a moment to recall what he’s talking about. His birthday, the number, he’s always said is his lucky number. It’s true. We got married on the same day, he got accepted into school on the same day, and the list goes on. His superstition has always been endearing to me, but the forlorn look on his face, isn’t.

“I know, Travis.”

His gaze is fixed on my eyes. “Becky, it’ll kill me if I can’t see you on my birthday. I know you’re as busy as hell, but I just need to see you, even if it’s for five minutes. That’s all I want.”

The lump in my throat is palpable. Travis always has a way with me. It didn’t work for a long time, and that's why when he begged me not to separate with him, it didn’t have the same effect. It seems to be growing on me again. “I’ll be there, Travis.” I tell him, not wanting to break his heart. “Is Buck planning something for you?” I ask, with a smirk. Buck, Travis’s brother, likes to throw the parties in the family. He’s a real hoot. I love his parties.

“Dunno. Probably. But it won’t mean a damn thing unless you’re there.”

“I won’t let you down.” I say. “But I'm not buying y’all a present.”

“You being there’s my present, darlin’.”

He wants to kiss me so bad, but I'm afraid that Greg is going to pop his head out at any second. I pull away before his gaze moves to my lips. I hate rejecting him, but I haven’t had a choice since the breakup. With the exception of our bonus night the night we made love at Macey’s birthday party, I've done nothing but walk away from him when he gets that look in his eyes. Then my phone rings, and I see that it’s Sara, and I leave the room.

...later, I'll wish like hell that I hadn’t.

Travis

His slimy gaze meets mine, and I feel like it’s a pissing match, but I’m here to play for real money, not Monopoly shit, like he is. “You be good to my wife.” I warn, lifting a finger.

I’d like to wipe the cocky smirk off his face with my fist. “Isn’t she your ex-wife?”

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