Miranda wondered why Travis would care when she went to bed. She didn’t have to work again for several days, and it wasn’t as though she had to get up early for anything—except to feed the animals. Then again, perhaps he only wanted her to get up early so she could fix breakfast before he left.
She sighed miserably. She couldn’t go on seeing him at Nigel’s every week. It was too painful. All she had to do was switch her lesson to a different day, and she’d never see him again. She might even forget him.
Yeah, right. Like she’d forgotten Kris. Miranda didn’t fall in love easily—the past fifteen years were proof of that—but when she fell, she fell hard. And she had fallen for Travis York. Trying to find another woman for him hadn’t done her—or him—a bit of good.
There was another solution to the problem—one that required courage and a very tough skin—and was so simple, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before.
I can tell him how I feel about him.
Given that the alternative was to never see him again, she had absolutely nothing to lose except her pride, and she doubted he would laugh in her face. He would be kind enough to let her down gently, and what happened after that would be his choice. Her regular lesson time was ten-thirty on Tuesday mornings. Avoiding her would be easy.
She went on with her bedtime rituals as though she’d been alone in the house. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she turned on the fan in her bedroom, climbed into bed, and read Harry Potter until she got sleepy. It always worked. She never had trouble going to sleep. Tonight, however, was different.
Travis is lying in bed in the next room. He might even be naked.
Once those thoughts were in her head, they played over and over like a catchy, annoying song that no amount of tossing and turning could stop.
Then the power went off.
Without the white noise of the fan, Miranda not only had to listen to her own restless movements, but could also hear every move Travis made. He, at least, had the excuse of spending the night in a strange place. She’d heard somewhere that it took three nights to get used to a new bed. Travis only needed to stay two more nights, and he’d sleep perfectly well.
Yeah, right. I can really see that happening.
Chapter 11
The power came back on at daybreak. Miranda slept better after that, but not for long. As she awakened, her mind took off, racing from one thought to another the same as it had the night before. Was Travis awake yet? Should she let him sleep? Would the roads be passable? Would he be iced in with her for days?
No. If the power was on, most of the ice had already melted. It would be very slick, though. Melting ice was even worse than ice that was frozen solid. If she was going to tell him she was crazy about him, she had to be sure he could leave right away. She didn’t want him stuck there after he told her she was out of her mind. A nasty little pain shot through her heart every time she thought about what he might say to her. His expression alone would probably break her heart.
She finally got up, noted that his door was still closed, and wandered out to the kitchen. Filling the teakettle, she set it on the stove. A glance out the window proved the ice wasn’t gone completely, though it was melting. Water dripped from the trees and the deck railing. The rising sun reflected off the crystalline glaze, making the whole world sparkle. She fed Jade, and then put food out for the dogs, all of whom seemed to have survived the ice without further mishap. Even so, she’d be lucky to make it to the barn without breaking her neck.
The kettle was whistling when she heard Travis coming down the hall. She almost dreaded seeing his tousled hair and sleepy eyes. Hearing his yawn and the sound of water running in the bathroom was bad enough. It was too much like living with him or having spent the night with him as a lover—without any of the benefits.
Her resolve to tell him the truth was crumbling. She had to do something besides stand there waiting for the tea to brew.
Biscuits. Guys always like biscuits.
Since Levi used to ask for them every day, she didn’t even need to look up the recipe. Having turned on the oven, she was collecting the ingredients when Travis came into the kitchen. His hair was too short to ever get messed up, but his clothes were wrinkled and had obviously been slept in. Barefoot, he stifled a yawn.
“Sleep okay?” she asked.
“Sure did.” His voice was soft, drawling.
Her heart took a plunge when he smiled. If there had ever been a more adorable man, she had yet to lay eyes on him.
Travis was bound to have slept better than she had. After all, he hadn’t been driven insane by the thought of her sleeping in the next room. With trembling hands, she fumbled with the mixing bowl. She hadn’t been this nervous the night before, but then, she hadn’t made her momentous decision until after she’d gone to bed. Clearing her throat with an effort, she asked him what he’d like for breakfast.
“Anything,” he replied. “I’m easy.”
If only that were true…
She glanced up in time to catch the smile that went along with his reply, and she wondered for the millionth time if he had any idea what that smile of his did to women. He was rather indiscriminate with it, so it was safe to assume that he didn’t. But if he did, it was downright cruel of him to keep flashing it at her. Perhaps he thought she was old enough to be immune to that sort of thing.
Boy, is he in for a surprise…
“Bacon, eggs, and biscuits okay?”
“Sounds good.”
“Looks like the ice is melting.” Stirring milk into the flour, she tried to focus on the soft, white dough instead of staring at Travis. “You shouldn’t have any problems getting home.”
“I can probably get the truck down the drive. I might have to leave the trailer, though.” He nodded toward her mixing bowl. “You don’t need to go to so much trouble. Toast would’ve been fine.”
She shrugged. “It’s no trouble. I used to make biscuits for Levi every day.” She could’ve made them in her sleep, which was a good thing considering how badly her hands were shaking. “Besides, I probably owe you more than one meal for all the work you did yesterday.”
“No, you don’t. And I didn’t offer to do it because I expected to get paid.”
“Does that mean you don’t want breakfast?” The only upside to that was that he’d leave quicker and then she could relax and get back to normal or cry or tear her hair out or something. She should go ahead and tell him right now, but couldn’t seem to find the words.
When it gets right down to it, I’m just plain chicken.
“I didn’t say that. I wouldn’t turn down breakfast if you’re willing to fix it.” There was that smile again.
“Perfectly willing.” She dumped the dough out onto the board and kneaded it, grateful to have something to do with her hands. Patting it out flat, she had the biscuits cut out and on the pan by the time the oven finished preheating—something she’d done a thousand times before. That simple task calmed her nerves better than any drug possibly could. Breathing easier, she popped the pan in the oven, set the timer, and started on the bacon and eggs.
“Guess I’d better call Stuart and see whether he wants me to drive the backhoe home or not.” He grinned. “He’d probably kill me if I let anything happen to it.”
“His pride and joy?”
“Something like that.”
“I’d probably feel the same way if it was mine.” Her laugh didn’t even sound forced, which was surprising. She relaxed even further. This was no different than fixing breakfast for Levi. “What would you like to drink?”
“Milk, please.”
She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “I should’ve guessed that. A man doesn’t get teeth like yours by shunning dairy products. You should be starring in toothpaste commercials.” Not sitting in my kitchen giving me fits.
Clearing his throat, he gave her a sheepish smile. “You aren’t the first to suggest that. Not my thing, though.”
/> Miranda certainly couldn’t argue with that. To be as handsome as he was, he was one of the least cocky men she’d ever met. She handed him a glass of milk just as the phone rang.
“Hi, Mom,” Levi said when she answered. “Did the power go off last night?”
She couldn’t help chuckling. “Should’ve known you’d ask me that. Yes, it was off most of the night, but it’s back on now. Did it go off there?”
“Yes, and it’s still off. I hate it when there’s no power.”
“I know, sweetie. You go on and go to work. They still have power there, don’t they?”
“Yeah. I called. It’s okay.”
“Good. How are the roads?”
“They look okay. There’s lots of cars going by.”
“It’s a good thing you park under that carport. Otherwise you’d be chipping ice all morning.”
“Yeah. Well, I have to go now.”
“Be careful.”
“I will.”
She hung up the phone, shaking her head. “Levi never could stand it when we lost power. Anytime there’s a storm, he gets very upset—although it’s better now that he’s older. I used to think he was afraid of thunder and lightning, but that wasn’t it. He just couldn’t function without electricity. He’s been like that ever since he was old enough to turn on a television.”
Travis stared at her in disbelief. “You’ve known him that long?”
Miranda frowned. “Well, yeah. I mean, I gave birth to him and raised him and everything. It’s not like I foisted him off on my parents.”
Travis looked as though he’d been poleaxed—eyes wide and jaw slack. “Levi is your son?”
“Yeah,” she said cautiously. “Who did you think he was?”
He didn’t answer right away—simply sat there, gaping at her. “If he’s your son, then who’s your husband?”
Miranda’s eyes widened in surprise. “My husband? I don’t have a husband. At least, not anymore. Kris was killed in a helicopter crash about fifteen years ago.”
“The Marine in the picture next to the flag. That’s him?”
She nodded. “Levi was only seven when he died. I put those things in his room so he wouldn’t forget his father.”
“And you never remarried?”
The bacon started popping like crazy and smoke was rising from the skillet. Miranda hurried over to turn on the exhaust fan. She was flipping the bacon over when Travis came up behind her. His sudden nearness almost made her jump out of her skin.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He sounded irritated—almost to the point of anger.
“What? Oh—no. No, I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
She took a deep breath. “I–it’s a long story.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got plenty of time. Start talking.”
All of a sudden, she felt a teensy bit…apprehensive. “I thought you knew.” She paused, frowning as she turned the bacon over one more time. “It was so long ago…”
“But you still wear a wedding ring.”
“It took me forever to get over Kris’s death. I didn’t want anyone else at first, and later on, I wore it to keep men away for a different reason. Levi is mildly autistic and has some learning disabilities. You hear about stepfathers and boyfriends beating up on kids from previous marriages all the time. I couldn’t risk it.”
“Fair enough,” he conceded. “But what about now?”
She glanced down at her ring and shrugged. “Habit, mostly. Everyone knows I’m a widow—and believe me, I know what it’s like to have matchmaking friends. That’s why I tried not to be too obvious about it with you. My friends nearly drove me crazy before they finally gave up.”
“Why would you try to find a woman for me?”
She kept right on working, laying the strips of bacon on paper towels to drain. Cracking eggs in the skillet. Watching the edges turn brown as they sizzled in the hot grease. Sliding them onto plates when they were done. “Like I said before, you seemed…unhappy.”
“I didn’t know you were a widow. You never told me.” He didn’t sound angry anymore. He sounded hurt.
“It’s not something I talk about much—and certainly not with someone…I mean, I don’t walk up to people and introduce myself as the Widow Jackson.” She added bacon to each plate and handed them to him.
“I can understand that. I just wish I’d known. Whenever you talked about Levi, I always assumed he was your husband. In fact, I’ve been dreading him coming home and finding me here.” He put the plates on the table and came right back, standing so close she could’ve turned around and kissed him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tears stung her eyes and her vision blurred. “I didn’t think it mattered.”
“Why would you think that?” His voice was gentler now, almost a whisper.
“We’re just friends—only a few months ago we were nothing more than casual acquaintances—it shouldn’t matter to you whether or not I have a husband.”
“That’s all? Just friends?”
The timer went off. She took the biscuits out of the oven and put them in a basket. Her resolve to tell him the truth had failed her completely. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. But when you were trying to find me a woman, why didn’t you put your name on the list?”
“Because I’m too old for you.” She was practically shouting. “I’m forty-five years old, and you’re what? Thirty?”
“Thirty-six, actually.”
“Oh, great. I’m only nine years older than you instead of fifteen. I—”
“You like me, don’t you?”
“Of course, I do.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “Look, let’s just sit down and have breakfast. Then you can go home.”
He crossed his arms and leaned back. “What if I don’t want to go home?”
She glared at him. “Are you trying to drive me insane?”
A tiny grin lifted the corner of his mouth. “I certainly hope so.”
She wasn’t married and she thought the only thing standing between them was a nine-year age difference. He was about to show her exactly how negligible nine years could be.
Don’t blow it now, Travis.
He put up a hand. “Okay. I’ll sit down and I’ll eat breakfast. But I want to hear everything.”
She gave him an unreadable look and took a seat at the table. “There isn’t much to tell. Kris and I were high school sweethearts. We got married after graduation and he joined the Marines. I went to nursing school, then had Levi. There were complications during the delivery, and he turned out to be our only child. One baby was more than enough for me, and with Kris away most of the time, I’ve always lived pretty much on my own.”
“But you loved him.”
She glanced away and let out a shuddering sigh. “Oh, yeah. He was the only one for me. Ever. Like I said, it took me a long time to get over his death. I used to pretend his leave had been canceled and that he would be coming home later. It worked for a while. Eventually, I had to face it, and by then, I was so used to being without him—or any man—I didn’t feel the need to go out and find another one. Men can be so bossy and controlling. I’m too independent—too set in my ways. And then there was my son to consider.”
Travis’s heart gave a painful twist. That “ever” comment had him worried. “Tell me about Levi.”
Her eyes grew misty. “I’m so proud of him. Everyone told me he’d never be independent, and he isn’t completely—I’m still his legal guardian—but he has a job and an apartment. He even drives a car.” The last word was more of a sob. She swallowed hard, giving him a watery smile. “He’s twenty-two now, and I think he’s found a girl he likes.” Her smile shifted to a frown. “Of course, she isn’t the first, and she’ll probably break his heart, but at least he’s out there meeting people. For a few years after graduation, there weren’t any jobs to be had and he just hung around the house. He was a lot of help, but that’s not the sort of life I wanted f
or him. This is much better.”
“I’d be proud of him too. But what about you? Don’t you get lonely?”
“Sometimes.” She didn’t elaborate, simply buttered a biscuit and took a bite. “Better eat that before it gets cold.”
All Travis could hear was the clock ticking on the wall. She went on with her breakfast, obviously not intending to say anything else. He picked up his fork and did the same. When she’d finished eating, she took another sip of her tea and got up from the table in one swift, abrupt motion.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I have to go feed the horses, and I’m not looking forward to going out in that mess.”
“Do you want some help?”
She shook her head. “I do this twice a day, every day. Today is no different from any other.”
She picked up his plate and set it in the sink. Travis got up and handed her his empty glass, then moved in behind her—so close he could feel the warmth of her body. Simply breathing the air around her made his groin tighten with anticipation.
He leaned in further. “When I said all the good ones were taken, I was talking about you, Miranda. But it turns out that you’re not taken, are you?”
“Um, no. I guess I’m not.” Turning on the water, she began washing the pan she’d used for the biscuits.
“You know, when you hugged me that day at Nigel’s I remember thinking at the time what a kind thing that was for you to do. It kept me warm for a long time, but it left me wanting more, and the second time was even better.” He reached around her and shut off the water. “I want to hug you again with my hands free and my coat off. Just once…” With a hand on her shoulder, he turned her around to face him.
She raised her hands in protest. “My hands are wet.”
“I don’t care. Dry them on me if you like.”
Whereas the previous hugs had been quick and hard, this one was soft, slow, and sensuous. Smoothing his hands over her back, he realized she wasn’t wearing a thing beneath her flannel nightgown, and that discovery sent even more heat rushing to his groin. His balls grew heavy and his cock pulsed with need as he lowered his head, inhaling her scent. Wrapping his arms around the small of her back, he pulled her up close, not caring that his hard cock pressed against her stomach. He wanted her to feel how much he wanted her. Her head fit nicely against his shoulder, her face nestling against his neck. When she turned ever so slightly, her lips brushed his skin—not precisely a kiss, but very, very close…
Unbridled (Unlikely Lovers) Page 9
