The Braddock Boys: Travis

by Kimberly Raye

  The cool hardness was a stark contrast to her soft, heated skin, and sensation saturated her senses. She moved the bottle again, slowly at first in a soft, seductive motion. Pleasure rippled through her body and her heart pounded. She played with the ripe nub a few more seconds before touching the edge to her other nipple. It sprang to life immediately, greedy for attention.

  She meant to stop. Really she did. But it felt so good and she’d been so on edge and so damned needy after the encounter with Travis in the dress shop. And maybe, just maybe, if she did this now, she might be able to satisfy the lust burning inside of her and forget him long enough to sleep.

  The edge of the bottle slid down, following the underside of her breasts, the sensitive skin of her belly. The hard coolness trailed over her belly button and lower until she reached the vee between her legs.

  Hunger spurted through her when she felt the edge of the bottle ruffle the damp curls that covered her mound. The sensation moved lower still. The hard, cool edge teased the slick folds and rasped her clit. Her lips parted on a gasp and her knees trembled. The air seemed to thicken even more, the steam fogging the shower glass and cocooning her in a thick blanket.

  She blinked and just like that, Travis was there with her, right in front of her, steam edging his tall, powerful form. He was completely naked, his broad, powerful chest covered with a sprinkling of dark hair. His penis was hard and thick, the base surrounded by a swirl of dark hair. The same hair sprinkled his hard, muscular legs.

  The water sluiced over him, running in rivulets down his tanned skin and she couldn’t help herself. She reached out, touching the slick muscle.

  She blinked, thinking he would disappear, hoping.

  He didn’t. He was still there. Right in front of her. Wet and naked and real.

  “I missed you tonight.” The words whispered through her head, so clear and distinct that a ripple of anxiety went up her spine.

  Followed by a rush of excitement as he took the shampoo bottle from her hands and touched the edge to her nipple. He rasped the edge back and forth, teasing, taunting. She caught her lip between her teeth as pleasure spurted through her and the pressure tightened between her legs. The sensation grew, wringing a frantic whimper from her. She was so close to the edge. Another glide of the bottle and she would plunge straight over.

  But then the bottle disappeared and she felt his hands. Cupping her breasts. Teasing her nipples. Swirling down her abdomen. Slipping between her legs. He rubbed her, teasing and taunting before sliding a finger deep inside.

  Sensation bolted through her and a delicious orgasm gripped her body. She caught her lip, fighting back the cry that worked its way up her throat, the same way she fought back the strange sensation coiling inside her.

  A feeling that something wasn’t right.

  That he wasn’t right.

  Real.

  She reached for him then, sliding her hands around his hard, pulsing shaft. She moved, slicking her palms up and down, tracing the ripe purple head until he growled so low and deep that she felt the sound pulling between her legs.

  He caught her lips in a fierce kiss, plunging his tongue deep, devouring her with his mouth as he thrust his erection into her grasp, over and over, letting her work him into a frenzy.

  A growl vibrated the air around them and he pulled back. She opened her eyes to see him through the thick steam. He stared down at her, his gaze pulsing a hot, vibrant purple as he plunged deep into her hands one more time. His lips parted and she caught a flash of white as he bared his teeth—

  She blinked and just like that, the image disappeared, fading into the steamy mist that filled the shower and leaving her with an odd sense of emptiness.

  As if he’d left her.

  As if he’d ever been there in the first place.

  She stared down at her empty hands clutching the shampoo bottle and gave herself a mental shake.

  Shoving open the shower door, she stepped out into the bathroom and reached for a towel. She rubbed at her body, eager to dispel the memory of his hands.

  Her own hands, she reminded herself. This had been a one-man show, no matter how it had felt otherwise.

  It was as if Travis wasn’t just in her memories, but he’d crawled deep down inside of her head. Her heart.

  She hadn’t just felt him surrounding her in the shower. She’d felt him inside of her. His passion blazing through her body. His need mingling with her own.

  Wait a second.

  What was she doing? Losing it, that’s what. That explained the purple eyes and the fangs. Seriously? Fangs? There were fantasies and then there were fantasies. She’d definitely crossed the line into the land of the looney.

  On top of that, the old Holly was rearing her ugly head, making more out of the situation than what was actually there. Imagining a connection when really, it was just her own wishful thinking.

  That’s what was happening.

  She was sliding right back into her old ways.

  Sliding, but she hadn’t gone completely down the drain. She could climb back up. She just had to remember how miserable she’d been after Chad. And the others before him. If she could focus on those disastrous relationships, she’d be okay.

  Burying herself under the covers, she closed her eyes and tried to conjure an image of Chad’s lying, cheating face. Nothing came. It was the same for Ben. And Allen.

  She saw only Travis staring down at her in the shower. Travis’s reflection in the dressing room. Travis sitting in her living room. Travis.

  Holly blew out an exasperated breath, climbed out of bed and headed downstairs to the living room. A few minutes later, she flipped on the TV and cranked up the volume, determined to distract herself and ignore the truth niggling in her head.

  That like it or not, she was falling for Travis Braddock.

  17

  HOLLY SPENT THE next few days neck-deep in making the changes for Darla’s wedding. All of her other brides got put on hold until she could breathe the following Monday. Until then… It was all about Darla.

  Thankfully.

  With her week so swamped, Holly barely had time to think about Travis, much less see him.

  Except in her dreams.

  He came to her every night in the most erotic fantasies.

  Erotic and vivid.

  Dreams that had her waking up in a feverish sweat, her body damp and pulsing, her lips swollen and bruised.

  Dreams.

  She held tight to the thought and tried to concentrate on Darla who stood in the local catering kitchen of Millicent Dupree, Skull Creek’s equivalent of Rachel Ray and the culinary genius responsible for Saturday’s formal sit-down dinner.

  “But it’s Thursday,” Millicent was saying. “You can’t make anymore changes at this point. The wedding is the day after tomorrow.”

  “I know, but I want filet mignon.”

  “I already have prime rib au jus in the works for five hundred people.” Millicent stared at Darla as if the bride-to-be just asked her to sacrifice her first-born. “What am I supposed to do with all that meat? And there’s only three days before the event. It’s impossible to get enough filet delivered here in time.”

  “We’re smack dab in the middle of ranch country,” Darla countered. “We’ve got beef coming out of our ears.”

  “Fine then. Why don’t you head on down to the Circle B and see how many you can round up, butcher and package for me? And of course, you know that the filet has to be aged a certain amount of time before I will even consider cooking and serving it.”

  “Holly,” Darla said, turning to her. “Do something.”

  “She can’t do anything,” Millicent said. “Because this is not going to happen.”

  Darla cast imploring eyes on Holly, but all she could do was shrug. “Millicent’s right. This is one detail you’re going to have to bend on. It’s impossible to get that quantity of meat delivered here in time.”

  “Meat is meat,” Shelly chimed in, fingering the hand
cuffs hanging from her belt as if she were seriously considering using them on her sister. “Why are you making such a big deal about this? Can we go now? I really have to get back to the station. Matt’s given me so much time off for this wedding that I want him to take the afternoon off before the craziness really gets started.” Sheriff Matt Keller was fairly new in town. He was married to the local salon owner and ex-beauty queen. They’d both caused quite a stir a year or so back when Sheriff Keller had been caught in some racy photographs, or so everyone had thought. But since then, he’d proven that the pictures were bunk and he’d won his first election with a landslide.

  “But my bachelorette party is tonight?”

  “I’ll be there. I might be a few minutes late—”

  “But you’re in charge of it.”

  “There are plenty of people to cover for me for a few minutes.”

  “But Sam’s sister will be there.”

  “And?”

  “And what will she think?”

  “That I have a life. She can serve cake until I get there. Don’t sweat it.” She motioned with her hand. “Let’s move this along. We’ll take the prime rib.”

  “No, we won’t,” Darla argued.

  “Perfect.” Millicent waved them out. “Now get out of my kitchen. I’m doing cannollis for the Bachman Birthday party tonight and I need to get into my pastry zone.” She turned her back, effectively dismissing Darla who looked ready to explode, and left the room.

  “But—”

  “Darla, why don’t we go see what the baker came up with for the cake?” Holly offered.

  “I don’t want to see the cake,” Darla insisted. “I want to settle this.”

  “It’s settled,” Shelly said. She murmured a few words into her walkie talkie. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later.” And then she disappeared in a blur of beige.

  “We can’t have prime rib,” Darla whined once her sister had left. “We just can’t.”

  “I happen to like prime rib. So do a lot of people I know.”

  Darla shook her head. “The entire wedding is going to be ruined because the reception is going to be ruined because the food is all wrong.”

  “It’s a small detail in the big picture of things. I’m sure you’ll see that once it’s all said and done. Millicent makes an excellent prime rib. I know you don’t like it, but—”

  “I do like it. But Tom’s favorite is filet mignon.”

  “But this wedding isn’t just about Tom, is it? I’m sure he’ll understand—”

  “I have to have the filet.” She turned desperate eyes on Holly. “It has to be right.” I have to be right. The truth gleamed in her gaze and Holly couldn’t help herself. She had to ask again.

  “Darla, are you sure you’re in love with Tom?”

  Anxiety stretched across her expression as she seemed to search for words. “He’s a great guy,” she finally said. “The perfect man.”

  “Yes, but do you love him?”

  “I love everything about him.”

  “But do you love him?”

  A strange light flickered in Darla’s gaze and Holly knew the truth in an instant—that the young woman didn’t love Tom so much as she loved the idea of marrying someone like him. She wanted a Prince Charming. A Mr. Perfect.

  “I can’t get married without filet mignon.” Darla’s voice drew her from her thoughts. “I just can’t.”

  No problem. That’s what Holly should have told her. She would call every supplier from here to Dallas if she had to in order to find enough and get it here in time for the wedding.

  That’s what Darla’s wedding planner would have said. Particularly a wedding planner who didn’t receive the last half of her fee until after the event.

  But at that moment, Holly didn’t care about money. She knew what Darla was going through. She’d felt it. She just hadn’t had the courage to step up and stop it. Instead, she’d been so obsessive that she’d pushed Chad away until he’d called it quits.

  Holly knew because she’d felt the exact same way. The truth crystallized as she stood staring at her distraught bridezilla. Travis had been right about her. She had been more in love with the idea of being in love than with the man himself.

  The moment when Chad had broken off the engagement, she’d actually felt relief. A quick feeling that had lasted only a few heartbeats until she’d had to face the world with her failure and mourn the carefully planned happily-ever-after she’d mapped out for herself. But she hadn’t been miserable because she’d loved Chad. She hadn’t.

  Not like she loved Travis.

  The thought struck and she pushed it back out and slammed the door. She barely knew him. Several days was not long enough to fall for someone. Even for a woman with her record.

  She didn’t love him. Not yet.

  And she was keeping it that way.

  “So don’t get married,” she heard herself say. “Postpone the wedding for a few months. Just until you can get everything right,” she added when Darla looked shocked. “Take your time,” she continued. “That way, you can get everything just perfect.” Or realize what a big mistake you’re about to make.

  “Extra time would be nice,” Darla said as indecision danced across her expression. But then her cell phone beeped with a text, drawing her from her thoughts and she shook her head. “The prime rib is fine,” she muttered, staring at the screen on her phone. “We’ll just go with that. I’ve really got to run. The party is in a few hours and I still have to meet Tom to sign the pre-nup.” She left the caterer and Holly headed next door to the baker to check on the changes to the wedding cake.

  By the time she got back to the office, it was almost six o’clock.

  “Quitting time,” Evan announced, powering off his laptop. “Our last evening off before the craziness starts. Bob’s treating me to dinner.” He arched an eyebrow as Holly closed several files and straightened up her desk. “What about you?” His gaze twinkled. “Are you seeing Mr. Tall, Dark and Luscious?”

  She’d been avoiding any mention of Travis, but she knew it was truth time. She averted her gaze and busied herself packing up. “We’re not seeing each other any more.”

  “Oh, no,” Evan squealed. He reached her in a heartbeat and threw his arms around her shoulders. “You must be a wreck!”

  “I’m fine.” She hugged him back for a second before pulling free. “Really. It’s no big deal. I told you it was nothing serious. He’s only going to be in town for a few more days.” She shrugged. “But it was fun while it lasted.”

  Evan eyeballed her a split-second before reaching for the phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Cancelling with Bob. You need someone to talk you off the ledge.”

  “I’m not on the ledge. I’m not even close. Seriously.”

  “That’s what they all say. But the next thing you know, they’re drowning in a gallon of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey.” He shook his head. “I won’t let you do this to your hips.”

  “My hips aren’t exactly small.”

  “That’s what I’m saying. You can’t afford even an ounce.” He started to dial. “I’ll just call Bob and then you and I can pick up some sushi and have a girl’s night—”

  Holly punched the button and broke the connection. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m fine. Really.”

  “You can’t go home alone.”

  “I’m not going home,” Holly added. She wanted to forget Travis. With Evan playing twenty questions all night and trying to console her, that would be impossible. “I’m going out.”

  “Bingo with Aunt Tootie is not going to cheer you up.”

  “I’m not going to Bingo. Besides, Aunt Tootie doesn’t play Bingo on Thursday nights.” She hardly played Bingo at all. When Holly had talked to her yesterday, Tootie had said she’d had an alright time on Sunday night but that it wasn’t something she wanted to do again. She needed excitement. “They’re having their pool tournament at the honky tonk tonight. It’s part of th
e in-door rodeo. No way would she miss it.”

  “Tonight’s the weekly pot. Tootie’s in contention for the grand prize. That’s what Bob’s friend’s cousin said. She said Tootie is the reigning Bingo champion. She played twenty cards last night and won three pots.”

  “My Aunt Tootie?”

  “You know another eighty-one-year-old in blue eye shadow and zebra print pants?” Evan wiggled his eyebrows. “He also said she was sitting next to Buck Gentry the entire time.”

  “She hates Buck Gentry.”

  “Just like she hates Bingo?” Evan shook his head and gave her another concerned look. “I’m calling Bob—”

  “I’m going out,” Holly blurted, “on a date.” What? “Yeah, a date. Tonight.”

  Evan’s hands stilled. “With who?”

  Good question. “Just a friend of a friend of a friend. We’re going to dinner. And dancing. So, you see, there’s no need to worry.”

  He eyed her for a long moment, as if searching for some sign that she was about to go on an ice cream binge.

  “Well, all right,” he finally said. “But I’m doing a drive-by later tonight and you’d better not be home.”

  Not a problem because the last thing Holly wanted was to fall into her own bed. She knew what waited for her in her dreams. As exciting as that was, she was too mixed up inside to deal with it tonight. She needed to get out. Live it up. Forget.

  Besides, it was time to test out the new Holly.

  Her one outing with Travis at the honky tonk had actually done some good. Tommy Peterson had tipped his hat to her at the diner yesterday. And Jim Mitchell had given her a wink when she’d gone into the pharmacy. Both men were die-hard cowboys known for their escapades with women.

  Holly had never been on their radar except when Jim had asked her to plan his parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary last year. He hadn’t winked at her then. Instead, he’d called her ma’am and barely looked her in the eye. No long, leisurely treks up her body with his hooded gaze. No wicked thoughts. Nothing.