Warm breath caressed her cheek and she turned her head, surprised to see Travis leaning in close. Concern lit his smoky eyes as he studied her. "Everything okay?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah. Fine."
"You sure? You look a little...I don't know. Deep in thought, I guess."
"No, I'm fine. Just thinking."
"Anything you want to talk about?"
"No, just random things." Like how I feel about you. Travis was going to ask for details, she could see it on his face. But Zach saved her when he tossed something at Travis to get his attention.
"Hey, Banky. It's karaoke night."
Travis suddenly straightened, his shoulders stiff, a blush filling his face. "I don't think—"
"Don't give a shit. Go."
"I don't—"
"Want me to drag your ass up there?"
Zach and Travis exchanged a long look. Cara was positive that Travis was trying to figure out how serious Zach was, knew the exact moment when he realized his teammate wasn't kidding.
Travis sucked in a deep breath then let it out in a rush. He turned toward her, his gray eyes serious. Then he caught her mouth in a fierce kiss that was entirely too brief before he pushed away from the table and headed toward the small stage.
Cara glanced around the table, noticing the assorted smiles on the faces surrounding her. Jenny leaned forward, her eyes shining with anticipation. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this."
"For what? I don't understand—"
"Just wait. Wait until you hear his voice. And here," Jenny shoved some napkins into her hand. "You might need these."
Cara frowned, looking first at Jenny then twisting in her seat to look over at the stage. Why would she need napkins? Was that a good thing or a bad thing? She'd heard his teammates talk on several occasions about Travis singing, but she'd never heard the details. Now she had no idea what to expect, especially after Jenny's comment.
Travis leaned in close to the guy running the karaoke machine, pointing at something in the thick binder opened up on the small table. The guy nodded then tapped at the keys of his laptop before handing a microphone to Travis.
The lights changed, dimming a bit except for the few lights aimed at the small stage. The bar suddenly quieted, which only made Cara more anxious. Several people before Travis had gone up to sing, but there hadn't been this hush of expectation.
And then the first strains of music filled the bar, soft and haunting. Cara sat up straighter, recognition flooding her right away. It was a love song from one of her favorite movies—a cult classic that had come out before she was even born about finding forbidden first love with a bad boy dance instructor during a family vacation in the mountains.
She watched as Travis took a deep breath, couldn't help but holding her own breath as he raised the microphone to his mouth and started singing. His voice, so deep and mellow, wrapped around her as he sang the lyrics to She's Like The Wind. Each note was soft and low, emotion filling every word as emotion burned in her eyes.
His gaze never left hers, holding her captive throughout the song until everyone around them disappeared and it was just the two of them. Alone. Together.
His voice faded, the final words drifting off with the last strains of music. There was a moment of silence then the bar erupted in applause. The noise startled her, bringing her back to the present, to the bar filled with strangers and friends.
To Travis, who was making his way over to her, his gaze still focused on her and her alone.
She wiped at her face, surprised to feel the wetness on her cheeks. Travis pulled her into his arms and kissed her, sweet and tender and so intimate, even here, among all these people.
He eased away and wiped her cheek with his thumb. "I didn't mean to make you cry."
"I'm not. It's hormones."
He laughed, the sound just a little hoarse, then pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before pulling her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his waist then looked up at him.
"Travis, you have such a beautiful voice."
A blush stained his cheeks and he shrugged, obviously embarrassed. "It's just something I like to do every once in a while, is all."
"You should do it more often."
"Yeah?"
"Yes. Definitely."
"Maybe I will." He lowered his voice so only she could hear him. "When we get home."
Cara wanted to tell him how much she'd like that. Wanted to tease him just a little and say she'd do whatever he wanted if he just promised to sing to her like that again. She didn't get the chance because his phone vibrated in his pocket—she could feel it, the way she was pressed so close to him. He muttered under his breath then reached for his phone, frowning when he looked at the display. The frown morphed to curiosity then concern before he looked back at her with worry in his eyes.
"It's my mom."
Chapter Twenty-Three
"I'm not ready for this."
Travis brushed his mouth along Cara's cheek, nibbled the lobe of her ear and smiled when a small shiver passed over her. He pushed up on his elbow and stared down at her, his eyes traveling from the top of her tousled hair all the way down to the sheet covering her breasts. How had things changed so quickly between them? Had it only been two weeks since he'd asked her to move in? Two weeks since she'd been so timid and awkward and uncomfortable in his house? Yet here she was, in his bed. In his heart.
How could such a short time seem like so much longer? And yet it wasn't long enough. Not nearly enough. He wanted it all. Not just the next few months, watching her grow bigger with his child—he wanted more than that.
He wanted all of it. Everything. Cara. Their child. A future with her. Her, not just as his child's mother, but herself, with everything that entailed.
Love? It had to be. Why else would his heart slam into his chest every time he saw her? Why else would the breath freeze in his lungs every time they touched? From accidentally brushing against her when they passed each other, to something as simple as holding hands or cuddling on the sofa as they watched a movie.
He should tell her. He wanted to tell her. But he was afraid the words would scare her. Afraid she wouldn't believe him. Could he blame her? Not really, not when he could barely believe it himself. If anyone had told him three months ago that he'd be where he was right now—in love, with a baby on the way—he would have ducked his head in embarrassment, turned bright red, and stammered his way through a denial.
There was no embarrassment now, and definitely no denial. And he wanted to tell Cara, wanted to watch the emotion flare in her deep brown eyes when she heard the words for the first time.
But he couldn't, not yet. Not here, while they were lying in bed, enjoying the last few minutes of a lazy late morning. She'd blame it on the two glasses of champagne he had to drink last night when they were at Harland's, welcoming in the new year. Or she'd blame it on their lack of sleep because even though they'd come home early and gone to bed, neither one of them had slept.
Or worse, she'd say it was the impending visit of his parents that was making him a little crazy. That much was true—he still couldn't believe they were coming for a surprise visit. Although was it really a surprise when they called the night before last to let him know?
As far as he was concerned, yes, it was still a surprise. That didn't really matter though because he was looking forward to seeing them. Looking forward to introducing them to Cara and giving them the news, watching their faces when he told them they were going to be grandparents.
Cara, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as excited. She was worried. Anxious. Nervous. Even now, when their last round of love-making should have relaxed her to the point where she couldn't think, let alone worry.
Maybe he should try again...
He leaned down and captured her mouth, caught her sigh as it mingled with his. He shifted, started to stretch out on top of her when she pushed against his shoulder with a throaty groan.
"Travis, we don't have t
ime—"
"Their flight doesn't even land for another hour. Plenty of time."
"I still need to take a shower—"
"So we'll take one together to save time."
"—and make sure downstairs is straightened. And the spare room. And—"
He kissed her objections away, smiled to himself when her body relaxed under his. Then she stiffened again and shook her head, pulling away once more.
"Travis, no. I'm nervous enough as it is. There's no way I'll be able to look your mother in the eye, knowing I just had sex with her son."
"She won't know."
"But I will. This is going to be hard enough as it is."
"You're worrying over nothing."
Cara sat up and slid to the edge of the bed, reaching for the oversized t-shirt she had been using to sleep in. His t-shirt, an old, faded gray one with the Bombers logo on the front. She pulled it over her head then reached behind her and grabbed her hair, shaking it out before letting it fall down her back.
Travis swallowed a groan then moved to the edge, caught her around the waist and turned her so she was standing between his legs. "You're beautiful. My parents are going to love you."
"What if they don't?"
"They will." He pressed the flat of his palm over her slightly-rounded belly. "And they're especially going to love this little guy."
"What if they don't? What if they think I'm some kind of...some kind of...I don't know. Gold-digger or something."
"They won't. You'll see. Trust me." He pressed a kiss against her stomach then stood up, not missing the flash of heat—of emotion—that sparked in the depths of her eyes. He almost told her, right then and there. Opened his mouth to say the words. But not yet. It wasn't time.
So he drew her into his arms and kissed her instead, just a quick one, then stepped back. "Go take your shower and I'll make sure everything is straightened up—even though you went overboard with cleaning yesterday."
"I had to. They're your parents."
"I know they are but you didn't need to clean. It's not like the house was messed up to begin with."
"It doesn't matter. They—"
"I know. Now go take your shower and stop worrying."
Cara hesitated then finally moved toward the master bathroom, giving him one last glance over her shoulder before closing the door. He waited until he heard the water running then dragged on a pair of sweatpants and hastily stripped the bed and remade it.
He carried the sheets downstairs, detouring into the kitchen to start the coffee before heading to the laundry room in the basement. A wry grin curled one corner of his mouth as he tossed the sheets into the washing machine.
Okay, maybe he was a little nervous, too. His parents were going to fall in love with Cara—and with the news that they were going to be grandparents. But he wasn't foolish enough to think they wouldn't have questions.
He just hoped they'd save them for when the three of them were alone, and not embarrass Cara by asking in front of her. She was nervous enough as it was, he didn't want to add to it.
He went back to the kitchen, inhaling the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee when he entered. It was decaffeinated—for Cara—but it tasted the same as far as he was concerned. Then again, he wasn't much of a coffee drinker.
He had just taken the first sip when the doorbell rang. He paused, the mug halfway to his mouth, and glanced at the clock. It was too early for his parents to be here—they'd objected when he offered to pick them up at the airport, saying they wanted to get a rental car so they could do some day-trips while they were here. He had no idea where they were planning on going, not in the cold weather of early January, but he didn't argue. His mother's voice had held that edge, warning him not to ask any questions. They wanted a rental car so they were getting a rental car. Period.
The doorbell rang again, seconds before he made his way to the front entranceway. Maybe it was Harland. Or maybe Zach and Haley. Or maybe—
It was his parents.
He didn't bother to hide his surprise as they stood on the front step, two suitcases behind them. His mother moved first, pulling him into a big hug then stepping back and frowning.
"Where is your shirt? And your shoes?
Travis glanced down, realized he was wearing nothing but his sweatpants. Heat filled his face as he stepped forward to grab his mother's suitcase. "Upstairs. I was just about to jump in the shower."
"Then go. We know where everything is." His mom stepped past him, already shrugging out of her coat as he rolled the suitcase inside. His father followed, giving him a quick pat on the shoulder before removing his own coat.
"You guys are early. I didn't think your flight was going to be here for at least another hour."
"We decided to take an earlier flight."
"Your mother means she decided." His dad pushed the suitcases to the side then straightened, his chest expanding as he deeply inhaled. "Is that fresh coffee I smell?"
"Yeah. I just..." Travis's voice drifted off as his parents made a beeline for the kitchen. He hesitated, glancing toward the stairs. Should he run up and tell Cara his parents were here? Yes, he should. He didn't want her to be caught off-guard when she came downstairs.
He started to turn toward the stairs when his mom called for him. He tossed one last look at the stairs, figuring Cara would hear voices and realize his parents were here, then turned for the kitchen.
"Sweetheart, are you sure it's not a problem, us staying here? I know it was last minute."
"No, no problem." Travis pulled out a chair and started to sit across from his mother then changed his mind at the last minute. "I'm actually glad you're here. I've got some news I want to share with you."
Both of his parents looked up, their faces filled with quiet expectation. He wiped his palms against his pants legs then glanced over his shoulder. He wanted Cara to be here when he told them, wanted to wait until after he introduced them. She should only be a few more minutes, right? Or maybe he should go upstairs and get her, bring her down.
"So what's this news? Or are you trying to keep us in suspense?"
"Just—yeah. No. I mean, hang on a sec. I'll be right back." Travis spun on his heel then nearly knocked into Cara when she entered the kitchen. He grabbed her arms, steadying her, trying to resist the urge to pull her against him instead. Her hair was still damp from the shower, her skin fresh and glowing. She had on a pair of sweatpants, just like him, and another one of his old t-shirts. Her mouth curled in a small smile that was part chagrin as she looked up at him.
At him. Not behind him. Not into the kitchen. She hadn't seen his parents yet, had no idea they were here. If she had, she would have never spoken.
"None of my pants fit, Travis. Do you think your parents would notice if I walk around with my jeans undone under my sweater? Just until tomorrow, when I go shopping for maternity clothes. Or maybe I can call Courtney and see if she still has some I can borrow."
A small gasp of surprise echoed somewhere behind him. Immediately following that was a loud thump, like a mug had just been dropped against the table. Cara's eyes rounded with horror, her face turning bright red as she stared up at him.
"Uh..." Travis swallowed back a groan then took a deep breath. He wrapped his arm around Cara's shoulder and held her close to his side then turned around.
Both of his parents were staring at him. At Cara. At his arm around Cara's shoulder. His mom's eyes were carefully blank, her mouth slightly parted. His father's jaw was clenched, his gray eyes narrowed as his gaze moved between Travis and Cara.
This wasn't how he had planned to tell them. And this certainly wasn't the reaction he had expected. Yes, he'd been prepared for their surprise, but not this...this cold wariness.
There was nothing he could do about it now except introduce them and hope for the best. Their excitement would come later, once they got over their surprise. Once they got to know Cara. He was sure of it.
He hoped.
"Mom. Dad. This is Cara Hu
dgins. Um, congratulations. You're going to be grandparents."
Chapter Twenty-Four
"Travis, you hardly know her. How did this even happen?"
"Mom—"
"Not the details. I can figure that out on my own. But...a baby, Travis? With a woman you don't even know?"
Travis closed his eyes and reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose. He swallowed back the hiss of pain—the thing was still sore from the other week. But even the pain was better than this entire conversation.
He didn't want to be doing this. Not now, and especially not here. He'd rather be home, curled up in bed with Cara. Talking. Watching television.
He'd rather be home, where all four of them could sit around the living room talking, laughing. Where his parents could spend time getting to know Cara. Instead, they were sitting here, at a chain diner with a handful of hungover people, pushing food around their plates and having a conversation he didn't want to have.
Just the three of them: his mom, his dad, and him. Cara was back home, alone. Probably wringing her hands or pacing in nervousness. Probably thinking the worst. And why shouldn't she, after the reception she had received?
Yes, her parents had finally composed themselves enough to mask their shock. Had greeted her with smiles that were just a bit too stiff, too forced. Had made a brief attempt at small talk for the first few minutes.
Then his mother had looked at both of them, carefully watching with her bright blue eyes as she started asking questions.
How long had they known each other?
When was the baby due?
Were they really living together?
What did Cara do for a living?
What did her parents think?
Cara had stiffened with each question but it was the last one that left her trembling. Her voice was thick with emotion and a little hoarse when she quickly said that they had passed away in an accident her second year in college.
Playing For Love (The York Bombers, #6) Page 16
