Rachel, Out of Office

by Christina Hovland

  Then he sighed. Grabbed their leashes, set aside his unfinished glass of scotch, and headed back toward the linen closet where they stored the extra blankets.

  Once he changed out the comforter, they could all get some sleep—just like his dad wanted. Unfortunately, the closet for extra bedding was all the way on the other side of the house, so he had to pass by the second study to get there.

  Yes, the house had two studies—the one his father had met with him in and the one they’d made into a makeshift office for Rachel’s personal use. Mama included it as part of her special let’s-get-her-to-come-along package.

  The light was on under the door of the second study when he passed by. He forced himself to keep walking. He got his new bedding and refused to look to see if the light was still on when he moved past again.

  It was.

  Now, he knew a lot of things. One of the things he knew was that he should keep right on going when he realized the light was on. Should take the dogs and go back to bed. Because if the light was on, then Rachel was in there, and if Rachel was in there, then he wanted to stop in and see how things were going for her.

  Yes, he should keep moving. But Travis was never any good at doing what he should do. So he knocked against the thick wooden door, and he waited.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Motherhood is best when you take it one day at a time. Kids survived the day? Awesome! Celebrate with a glass of wine.” — Andrea, Texas, USA

  Rachel

  Work was not going well. What with Rachel spending a large part of the evening trying to figure out what the heck had happened in the water with Travis.

  She knew what an erection was, and that thing he’d been toting around in the frigid lake was definitely an erection.

  After an abundance of thought, she’d come to the realization that there were two potential reasons for that-which-could-never-be-mentioned-again.

  One, he wanted something that was off-limits. Evelyn had been perfectly clear about Rachel’s off-limits status.

  Or two, he wanted to stick it to Gavin, using Rachel as his latest method in their ongoing sibling rivalry.

  Either option was a nonstarter for her.

  The tap on the door jostled her from the spreadsheet in which she was elbow deep, creating Cassie’s latest social media posts. She scowled at the screen of her computer and the empty spaces that still needed to be filled.

  “Come in,” Rachel called.

  A piece of hair, from the mess of a knot she’d tied it in, fell in front of her face. She blew it away as she dropped in a funny graphic about making nutritious choices. The image involved a side salad having a discussion with a box of French fries.

  Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect on her, because she now really wanted fries.

  She glanced up when the door opened and did a double take as nighttime Travis strolled right through. His appearance made the mountain air feel even thinner in her blood. She gulped and hoped he didn’t notice.

  Black, totally respectable pajama pants and an unremarkable black T-shirt that seemed like the extra soft cotton kind. His hair a little messy, and not like he’d tried to make it look that way. He had the just-out-of-bed rumpled thing going on.

  She bit at the insides of her lips because she didn’t trust what she might say to him. Probably something about the near-meeting of their lips in the lake and what she felt going on below his waistband, even though the water had been freaking cold.

  He had both dogs tagging along—they were still awake, but she wouldn’t complain about it, since they were in his charge that night. He also had a heap of bedding under his arm. She wasn’t going to ask about it, because she needed to finish this up.

  Rachel was not sitting at the desk. She was sitting on the not-so-comfy-but-it-looked-nice leather sofa. The big mahogany desk made her feel like she was running an evil empire of toaster tart products instead of a tidy, virtual personal assistant company.

  She took a second to really look at him and he seemed off—a little grumpier than usual. He was scowling like he also needed to put together a social media spreadsheet.

  “Everything okay?” She reached up to pull her hair loose. It fell out of the mess she’d pinned it in.

  She liked to tie it out of the way when she focused, but it looked totally ridiculous when she tucked it up into the weird bun that yanked her bangs out of her face and also kept her hair off her neck.

  “Everything’s fine,” he said, but he still frowned. He didn’t seem to be scowling at her, mostly at the world in general.

  The dogs pulled at their leashes, trying to get to her, but Travis held them firmly. He seemed like he wasn’t really sure why he was there. Yet here he was.

  She had that feeling a lot in life, so she understood.

  “I’m just checking out for the night,” he said, clearing his throat. “Thought I’d see if you needed anything.”

  Oh, well, that was sweet of him. Look at him being nice. It was probably his erection from earlier talking. Loss of blood flow to the brain did that to a guy.

  She pressed her glasses up against her nose—she didn’t wear them often, but she’d already removed her contacts for the night—and tried not to blush, because he was just being nice, nothing more.

  Yet, his simple attempt at being nice had her cheeks heating. Go figure.

  “I’m good.” She adjusted her flannel pajamas—the comfy two-piece kind with a string of buttons running up the front that went all the way to her neck, and the matching pajama bottoms that were one of the least sexy clothing items she owned.

  Not that she needed to worry about wearing sexy pajamas when she was on a family vacation. Or ever.

  She’d given up on satin and anything with lace because Brady and Kellan had the Frank stomach, and after getting thrown up on one too many times, she’d realized that flannel was much easier to clean. Flannel popped right into the washing machine without having to do anything special to the fabric.

  Sure, she loved the feel of satin, but it’s not like anyone was around to feel her in the satin, so she settled for the pragmatic flannel.

  Flannel was nice, too. Flannel was comfortable, and warm, and very much Rachel.

  “We missed you at game night,” Travis said.

  “I have so much work.” She waved to the open laptop. “And I missed a bunch of emails after the flight and then the…uh…impromptu swim.”

  It’d been way too long since she’d been swimming. Too long since the water had wrapped around her like that.

  Until today, she hadn’t realized she’d missed that feeling of being enveloped.

  Then again, there weren’t a lot of spare moments to think about extraneous things like that.

  “Sorry about missing out with you guys,” she said with a smile, gesturing to the room. “I had to come run my empire.”

  He fidgeted with the dog leashes, not saying anything. Still frowny. Still just…off.

  She squinted at him, trying to see if she could guess what was going on. He was being weird. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Other than the fact your kids wiped me out at poker, I’m fine.” He shifted the bulk of the bedding he carried with him and set it down on the side table next to the sofa.

  Wait. Poker? Her children were gambling?

  That was not what she’d agreed to. When she’d left the living room, Bob said they were playing cards. She’d assumed—apparently, incorrectly—they’d be playing rummy or hearts.

  “Wait. Rewind a second.” She made a roll-it-back motion with her hand. “You played poker at game night?”

  He lifted a shoulder like it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s tradition.”

  “With my kids?” She didn’t have any beef with teaching her kids to gamble, she just figured they should be of a certain legal age first.

 
“Brady’s better than the rest of us. The kid is seriously gifted at bluffing.” Travis had relaxed as they chatted, drifting toward the sofa.

  Rachel, however, was not relaxing. She gripped the sides of her laptop because it was the only thing she had to hang on to.

  “Dad’s teaching him to count cards, I’m pretty sure.” Travis laughed low.

  The low laugh was not helpful.

  “He taught Gavin, too,” Travis continued. “Dave and I never took to it. Don’t worry, he gave the whole safe-poker speech before he started.”

  “Safe-poker speech?” She made a mental note never to miss game night again.

  “How to do it without getting caught.”

  “Huh.” She’d need to discuss that with Bob and with Gavin and, especially, with Brady. “Why didn’t you guys play poker when I came last time?”

  “We did.” He dropped the leashes to let the dogs run free.

  They immediately ran straight to her for a quick scratch on the head.

  “Where was I when all of you were playing?” she asked, giving the dogs a good rubdown. “Last time.”

  “I think you were in new-mom-of-twins land.”

  “That must’ve been around the time I was delirious enough to tell Gavin I wanted twin puppies for our twin babies.” Rachel made kissy faces at the dogs, and they bounced around the edge of the sofa at the invitation to play.

  Travis glanced at the dogs. “So this”—he gestured to the pups—“is your fault?”

  That interpretation was one option, yes. Although, since she hadn’t made the cash transaction, she was taking only part of the responsibility. She gave what she hoped was a yeah-maybe tilt of her hand.

  Travis stopped his movement toward her and pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the desk.

  Her heart dropped a little. She’d sort-of hoped he’d come sit next to her.

  That was ridiculously unacceptable, though, because there was no reason for him to sit next to her or for her to hope that he would.

  He started lining up the pens on the desk so they were end-to-end.

  She glanced at her computer screen, really needing to get back to it. But Travis was there, and he obviously needed to talk.

  If she were being honest, she’d been feeling lonely just before he came in. The kind of lonely that didn’t go away. Just standard lonely that happened even when the boys were around, or she was with her girlfriends.

  “You’re acting strange,” she said, making a note of where she was in the file so she could easily pick back up later. Then she balanced the laptop on the edge of her thigh, giving Travis her full attention. “Spill it. I’ve got to finish this, and I’m guessing you’ll need sleep at some point.”

  “And you don’t need sleep?” he asked.

  “The sooner I can tie up the loose ends, the sooner I can go to sleep myself.”

  The air between them seemed to stretch, and she didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  She waited, not saying anything while he got his thoughts together.

  “Dad caught me just now, before I came in,” he said, not meeting her eyes. His throat was working as he swallowed hard. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that Travis was experiencing a keen set of conflicting emotions.

  “Is he okay?” she asked, because Travis was being so odd that maybe there was something wrong with Bob. She didn’t want to even consider that.

  “Yeah, he’s fine.”

  “Travis?” she asked, as gently as she could, because worry was starting to seep in. She was getting concerned about what it was exactly that he wasn’t saying.

  Travis finally held her gaze with his, and that loneliness that she’d had earlier? Poof. Disappeared.

  And that made the center of her face go a little numb with realization.

  “Dad just wants sleep. He talked to me about it for a bit.” Everyone who knew Bob understood the man was not a talker. Even with his kids.

  Evelyn was the talker. Bob was the listener.

  Rachel learned that early on.

  “He told me not to spend time with you,” Travis said, matter-of-factly.

  Well, crap. She did not expect that.

  Rachel’s eyebrows rose. She did not appreciate her ex-in-laws inserting themselves into a conversation about who she spent time with. That was up to her, and only her. Well, and whoever she elected to spend that time with, too.

  In any case, Bob and Evelyn didn’t get a say.

  “Seriously?” she asked.

  “Yep.” Travis nodded, and he wasn’t doing the distant thing anymore. Actually, he was checking her out. The full body scan, the heat of the gaze, the small part to his lips.

  He wasn’t being obnoxious or anything. More like he was just observing and appreciating. Her stomach flip-flopped, this time with tingles along the tips of her ears.

  She glanced down to ensure she hadn’t dropped chocolate on her shirt or something, because wouldn’t that be embarrassing?

  Also, very on-brand for her.

  “Your dad told you he’d prefer if you don’t spend time with me? Then you came by here to see me when I’m by myself?” she asked, a little confused by the conversation but choosing to go along with it, since the lonely ache had dissipated.

  “Yep,” he said again.

  “Sounds like everyone wants us to stay apart. First your mom, now your dad…”

  “Pretty soon they’ll have Dave in on the rotation.” Travis slid off the desk and moved to stare into the black darkness at the window. The longing look in his gaze as he stared outside nearly made Rachel jealous. And that was ridiculous, because it was the forest, not a person, but mostly she had no reason to be jealous. None at all.

  He turned from the window and speared her with hunger in his eyes.

  This time she felt the tingles at the tips of her ears again, and also in another, more intimate location between her legs.

  Rachel’s computer chimed, and she glanced at the screen. “Give me a second,” she said as she typed something out. “The Australians are being needy.” Quickly, she finished typing a message. Then she closed the computer and set it aside.

  She was feeling all tingly with him, and he was being all weird, and Bob and Evelyn were being extra-invasive.

  She and Travis needed to communicate the hell out of this situation. That way they could move on and she could get back to work.

  “I think we should talk about what happened at the lake today,” she said, folding her legs up underneath herself. The sober way she’d said that made it seem like the near kiss hadn’t even phased her, when in fact, it had. But good for her, for being able to sound so laissez-faire.

  “I…” he started to say.

  “Because if we talk about it, it won’t be a big deal. I’ve always found it’s the things we don’t talk about that become issues.”

  “That’s very deep,” Travis said, focusing on Pete, who was now sniffing around the edge of the rug.

  Rachel trailed her gaze to the puppy. He usually came to nudge her first before he relieved himself.

  “If you want to sit next to me, I won’t tell your parents.” She patted the sofa. “I also won’t deflower you on the sofa,” she continued, because for some reason it seemed like the right thing to say. But as soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to stuff them right back in.

  Thankfully, Travis grinned, and his voice went deep as he said, “I hate to break it to you, Rach, but I’ve been deflowered for a while.”

  “Good, because that’s always such a thing,” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically.

  They’d participated in nearly an entire conversation, and neither of them had gotten defensive. This was…new.

  He chuckled, deep and low, and her insides warmed at the sound. She didn’t feel like she was wearing puke-flannel right then. The w
ay he was looking at her with that glint in his eyes made the fabric—and her insides—feel like satin.

  What were those reasons she shouldn’t get in deep with him again? There were two and she couldn’t quite remember what they were.

  She shifted to make more room for him beside her, hoping that he would sit.

  If he sat with her, maybe they’d even touch a little. No big thing, she could brush her hand against him and see if there were more sparks—like at the lake.

  It’d be an experiment to determine if there were some kind of enduring chemistry going on. And, since it was just going to be a little observational touch, if the sizzle dissipated, then she could pass it off as platonic. She’d accidentally touched Dave lots of times, and it wasn’t awkward.

  “I think we should try being friends,” Rachel announced, a little too loud. She softened her tone, saying, “We’ve never had the chance to be friends.”

  “Rach…” He sat next to her on the sofa. Not close, though. There was a respectable distance between them she was pretty sure his mother would approve of. “I…I don’t really want to be your friend.”

  Her warm, satin insides turned to cold polyester. Oh, well that stunk. “Then what do you want?”

  The words came out strong, thank goodness, because inside, the empty ache of rejection sat heavy in her stomach.

  He shook his head. “What I want, I shouldn’t have.”

  Didn’t they all?

  There was hardly any room behind her, but she scooched back anyway, until her back hit the arm of the sofa. If she went any farther, she’d fall on her ass and then that really would be embarrassing.

  “If I’m making you uncomfortable,” she said, “we can be sure we’re not in the same place while I’m here.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Rach—”

  “Do you want to set up a schedule so we don’t have to see each other?” she asked, hoping that the light tone was back, and he wouldn’t see how this was kind of wrecking her. The lump in her throat was not a good one. She could use a minute alone, to take some deep breaths and prevent her eyes from getting watery.