Playing For Love (The York Bombers, #6)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  At least his mother had the grace to look embarrassed. Her apology was sincere but Travis had had enough. He was the one who had suggested coming here to talk—a suggestion he regretted five minutes after leaving the house. They should have stayed home. He should have dragged everyone to the living room so they could be discussing this together.

  But he'd been worried about Cara, thought that maybe she'd appreciate some time alone to get over the initial shock and stress of the meeting. As much as he hated being away from her now, as much as he was certain she was worrying even more in their absence, it was probably better that he talked with his parents alone.

  Especially after some of his mother's well-meaning comments.

  "Travis, I just don't understand. How do you know this woman isn't after something else?"

  "Mom, she's not, okay? Cara isn't like that."

  "But how do you know? You don't even know her!"

  "I do know her, Mom. And we're having this baby. Together. So I'd really appreciate it if you'd take the time to get to know her and make her feel welcome."

  "Make her feel welcome? What are you saying? You're not actually thinking of marrying her, are you?"

  "Yeah mom, I am." He hadn't been thinking that, not really. But wasn't that the next logical step? He loved her. Isn't that what you did when you loved someone? Got married? Had a family? Maybe they weren't doing it in just that order but did it matter?

  "Travis, you need to stop and think about what you're saying. You're twenty-two years old. That is hardly old enough to get married, let alone have a baby."

  Travis squeezed his eyes closed and counted to five, then opened them and looked over at his father. He was sitting in the booth next to his mom, his chiseled face carefully blank. He'd been quiet ever since the initial introduction, offering nothing to the conversation.

  "Dad." Travis's voice held a hint of pleading, though he wasn't sure why. His dad would surely take his mother's side in this, tell him how foolish he was being, how he was running headlong into a decision that should be carefully thought-out.

  His father lifted the coffee mug to his mouth and took a long swallow, then carefully placed the cup next to the plate. He turned and fixed his mother with an expression Travis didn't understand.

  "As I recall, you were only twenty when we married."

  "That was different, Thomas. Things were different. And Travis has so much more he needs to worry about. How does he know this woman isn't after his money?"

  "Mom, you make it sound like I'm raking in millions. I'm not."

  "Maybe not millions, not yet. But I know what's covered in your contract and it's not something to shrug off. And I also know how quickly that can change if the Banners call you up."

  "I don't think that's going to happen any time soon."

  "You don't know that."

  "Mom—"

  "She has a point, Trav. Whether you think this girl is like that or not, you still need to be careful."

  Travis mentally counted to ten then let out a quick breath. "Fine. I'll be careful. That doesn't change how I feel."

  "You're not going to sit there and tell me you love her. I don't believe it."

  "It doesn't matter if you believe it or not, Mom. I know how I feel, okay?"

  "You thought you were in love with Amy, too. Or don't you remember? And look how that turned out."

  Why did the question surprise him? It shouldn't have, not when he'd been expecting it. And maybe it wasn't surprise that he felt, but irritation. His mother, of all people, knew exactly how he felt about that whole situation. Her bringing it up almost felt like some kind of betrayal.

  "Yeah, Mom. I remember exactly how that turned out. The fact that I was with Amy for all those years and never once thought about getting married should tell you something."

  "But you loved her."

  "Maybe. Or maybe I didn't. Maybe I just thought it was love, because we'd been together for so long. Maybe I was just settling because I didn't know any better."

  "But you do now?"

  "Yeah, I do. And what I felt for Amy? That doesn't even come close to what I feel for Cara." How could he put into words what he felt? How could he explain—to his parents, no less—when he wasn't sure he understood himself? He only knew what he felt. "Mom, I want to be with her. I want her to be the last thing I see when I close my eyes and the first thing I see when I open them. Not just for a few weeks or months or years—for the rest of my life."

  "Oh, Travis." His mother's voice hitched just the tiniest bit. She grabbed a napkin and dabbed at her eyes, then shook her head. "That is such a clichéd, corny way to put it. I hope you didn't say it like that when you told her."

  "I—I haven't told her yet."

  "You haven't told her? So then all this talk is just that—talk? You could still change your mind—"

  "I'm not changing my mind, Mom. I know how I feel, and I love her. And I'd really appreciate it if you took the chance to get to know her. She is going to be the mother of your grandson, you know."

  His mother's expression went from maternal concern to something soft and warm in the blink of an eye. Her eyes brightened and a gentle smile creased her face.

  "A grandson? You're having a boy?"

  "We don't know. It could be a girl."

  "Oh." The word came out as a soft exhalation and her smile widened even more. "A little girl. A granddaughter. That would be amazing. There's so many things we need to get."

  She reached into her purse and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen, quickly scrawling notes in her tidy handwriting while she muttered under her breath. Travis watched her for a few minutes then turned to his father. He wasn't sure why. Maybe to ask why his mom's attitude had suddenly changed. Maybe to ask why she had gone from concern to acceptance so quickly. But his dad was shaking his head and smothering a smile.

  "You should have started off with that, son."

  Travis nodded even if he wasn't entirely sure what his dad meant. "What about you? Are you okay with this now?"

  His dad shrugged then draped an arm around his mother's shoulder as she continued with her list. "I have a different viewpoint from your mother's."

  Dread filled Travis. He didn't want to ask, was afraid of what his father might say. But he needed to know so he asked anyway. "Why? What viewpoint?"

  "Oh, just the fact that I knew your mother was the one the very first time I saw her. She forgot to tell you that."

  "She was?"

  "Absolutely. I bought her a ring the day after I met her, held onto it for six months, waiting for her to realize she loved me, too. It was the longest six months of my life." He watched Travis over the rim of his coffee mug then offered him a quick wink when he lowered it. "Do yourself a favor and don't wait as long as I did."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Panic sliced through him, shattering his concentration. His foot slipped on the top step and he stumbled, caught himself at the last second before lurching toward the door. He hit the small button, heard the muted sound of the doorbell. Distant. Faint. He waited a single second then pounded on the door with the side of his fist, ignoring the dull pain throbbing in his hand.

  This was the third door he'd pounded on so far. First Tyler and Jenny's place. Then Zach and Haley's.

  Now he was at Harland's, beating on the door and praying someone would answer. Cara had to be here. He didn't know where else to look if she wasn't.

  They'd finally left the diner—him and his parents. The mood had been lighter, his mother both excited and apologetic. She was eager to talk with Cara. To get to know her. To make plans for the baby. Travis wasn't sure why—they had six months still to wait, plenty of time. But his mother had turned a horrified expression his way when he'd said as much and told him that he was completely clueless.

  And okay, maybe he was, because even his father had laughed at that. He didn't understand what was so complicated about buying a crib and some clothes, didn't know why his mother wanted to start that now, this
week while she was here.

  Right after she talked with Cara and decided how to decorate the nursery.

  But he wasn't going to argue the point, not if it would bring Cara closer to his mother.

  Except Cara wasn't home when they got there. Her car was gone, with no sign of her in the house. No note saying where she had gone, no message on his phone or his answering machine. He had fled upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, and checked his closet. Her clothes were still there, which was the only thing that had kept him from flying into a panic—

  Until he tried calling her and couldn't get an answer. Not to his voicemails, not to his text messages.

  His mom had tried to hide her concern, had done her best to assure him nothing was wrong. Maybe Cara had simply gone to the store. Maybe her phone was turned off or she was someplace that didn't have good cell reception.

  The assurances did nothing to stop the knot of panic growing in his chest. He'd grabbed his keys and took off, driving aimlessly while he tried to think where she might be.

  That's when he'd gone to Tyler's place. Cara and Jenny had become close. She'd become close with all of the other women, actually. But he had checked with Jenny first. Only she hadn't talked to or seen Cara since the other night at Mystic's and suggested she try checking with Haley, had even given him her number.

  He didn't want Haley's number, didn't want to call only to hear that Cara didn't want to talk to him. So he'd driven over there only to have the same results.

  No, Haley hadn't seen her, not since the other night. No, she wouldn't be with Megan or Savannah—both women were out of town. Megan and Jason had gone to the Poconos; Savannah and Aaron had taken the girls on a quick trip to Orlando.

  Had he tried Courtney?

  So here he was. Banging on the door, his chest exploding with the need to breathe while he waited for someone—anyone—to answer the door.

  He raised his hand, ready to bang one more time, when the door finally opened. Harland stood there, a frown on his face, Noah in one arm. "Christ, Travis. What the hell? You're banging so hard, Noah could hear. And I mean that literally—he felt the vibrations."

  Travis grimaced and mumbled an apology before pushing past Harland. His frantic gaze swept the living room and the dining room—both empty—then landed on Harland. "I'm looking for Cara. Is she here?"

  "Yeah. She's upstairs trying on some clothes."

  Disappointment washed over him—until Harland's words sunk in. Cara was here.

  She was here.

  Trying on clothes.

  Relief made his body sag and he leaned against the wall, blinking to clear the buzzing in his head. Harland tilted his head to the side, frowning.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah. No. I—yeah, I'll be fine."

  "You don't look fine. You look like you're ready to pass out." Harland lowered Noah to the floor then made some rapid hand movements. "Go ask Mommy to come downstairs, Squirt."

  Noah nodded then ran toward the stairs as Harland grabbed Travis by the arm. He steered him into the gourmet kitchen and pulled one of the island stools out with his foot. Then he pushed Travis onto the stool and leaned against the counter, watching him.

  "You want to tell me why you look so panicked?"

  Travis ducked his head, cursing the heat filling his face. "I'm fine."

  "Bullshit. Out with it."

  "It's nothing. I just thought—" He swallowed, unable to get the words out.

  "You thought...what?"

  "My parents came into town this morning."

  "Yeah? And?"

  "And it was a little awkward so I took them out to a late breakfast and when we got back, Cara...I thought—" Travis stopped, sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. He had overreacted. No, he'd done more than overreacted: he'd flipped out. Totally lost it. Gone completely over the edge when he thought Cara had left.

  "Travis. What are you doing here?"

  He spun around at the sound of Cara's surprised voice. She really was here, standing a few feet away, her head tilted to the side as she studied him in confusion.

  Relief slammed into him. Not just relief—certainty as well. He loved her. He wanted her. All of her. For better or worse. Now.

  He moved from the stool, stepped toward Cara. Slow, measured steps. Her eyes flared in surprise and she backed up a step then stopped.

  "Travis? Are you okay?"

  "I thought you left."

  "I just came over to try on some of Courtney's old maternity clothes."

  "I thought you left."

  "But I sent you a text. Didn't you get it?"

  He shook his head and took one more step, stopping inches away from her. "I thought you left."

  "Travis, is something wrong? Did something happen?"

  "Yes." He cupped her face between his hands and caught her mouth in a tender kiss. Soft. Sweet. Warm. Filled with promise.

  He lifted his head and stared into her eyes, heard the pounding of his heart as it beat heavy in his chest. And just below that was another sound, just a little softer.

  Her heart. Cara's. Strong. Steady. Each beat echoing his own.

  He ran his thumb across her full lower lip, bent down to taste her mouth again, just a brief taste that left him needing more.

  "I love you."

  Her eyes widened and a soft gasp of surprise escaped her. She blinked, started to shake her head, stopped when he placed a gentle finger against her lips.

  "I love you," he repeated. "I know you think it's too soon. I know it doesn't make sense. I know you probably don't believe me. But I know what I feel and I know that I love you."

  "Travis—"

  "I don't expect you to feel the same way. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But that doesn't change—"

  "Travis—"

  "—the way I feel. That doesn't change—"

  Cara placed a finger against his mouth, silencing him. Then she leaned up and pressed her lips against his, the kiss too brief. He expected her to argue with him. Or maybe to tell him he was crazy, that he was scaring her, that she didn't feel even remotely the same way about him.

  But a trembling smile curled the corners of her mouth and her eyes glittered with emotion when she looked up at him.

  "I love you, too. And yeah, it is too soon, but it doesn't change how I feel, either."

  The world spun around him for one wild second. He must have made a sound of some kind, he couldn't be sure, but he heard strangled laughter in the background, hushed voices and quickly retreating footsteps. Then Cara was in his arms and he was kissing her and nothing else mattered. Nothing except—

  He gently broke the kiss, his arms still wrapped tight around the woman he loved. "Let's get married."

  "Wh-what?"

  "Let's get married. Now. Tonight."

  "Travis, are you crazy? We can't—"

  "Yes, we can. We can get a flight to Vegas. With the time change, we can be there this evening and be married a few hours later."

  "Travis, I don't think—"

  He shook his head and dropped to one knee, cradled one of her hands between his own. "Cara Hudgins, marry me. Please."

  "I—" She swallowed, moisture filming her eyes as she watched at him. Then she nodded, slowly at first, then faster. "Oh God, this is insane. I can't believe—but yes. Yes, let's do it. Yes, I'll marry you."

  Travis jumped to his feet then grabbed Cara and spun her around. He caught her mouth for a long kiss, swallowed back a sigh of need when he pulled away. "We need to go home. Pack. And, uh, tell my parents—"

  "Oh God. Your parents. What are they going to say? They're going to think—"

  "That us getting married is a wonderful idea—right after my mom apologizes to you. And asks how you want decorate the nursery."

  "What?"

  Travis grabbed her hand and led her toward the door, barely managing to wave goodbye to a laughing Harland and Courtney. "She wants to help decorate the nursery. And she has a two-page list of things she wants to buy fo
r the baby but she wants to check with you, first."

  "She does?"

  "Yes, she does. I figure it'll keep her busy while we're in Vegas. Getting married."

  Cara stumbled as he opened the door to his SUV for her. She placed her hand on his arm, her head tilted to the side as she stared up at him.

  "Are we really doing this, Travis? Are we really going to fly to Vegas and get married?"

  "Do you love me?"

  "Yes, I do."

  "Then we're getting married." He bent his head and caught her mouth with his one final time. Still sweet and warm, but different somehow. More somehow.

  Filled with love. With promise.

  With a hint of the life he had to look forward to with the woman he loved.

  Epilogue

  Two-and-a-half years later

  Travis held tight to Cara's hand, leading her through the thick crowds filling the Piazza di Trevi. This was such a touristy thing to do but neither one of them cared—and from the looks on the faces of the hundreds of people surrounding them, neither did anyone else.

  The rush of water had greeted them nearly a block away, echoing off the stone fronts of the old buildings lining the narrow street. Or maybe it was an alleyway, he couldn't tell. And maybe it didn't make a difference. This was only their second day in Rome and he'd already decided that Italian drivers lived by their own rules—and a set of nerves that filled him with grudging respect.

  Cara's hand tightened around his as he pushed through the crowd. He heard her say something but the words were lost in the sound of the rushing water, in the excited voices speaking in Italian and Spanish and German and English. He stopped, pulling her close to his side.

  She gazed up at him, laughter and excitement sparkling in her eyes. "I had no idea it was going to be this crowded."

  Travis laughed then leaned down for a quick kiss. "Neither did I."

  "How do we get down there?"

  "Easy. Just hold on tight." He tucked her hand into the waistband of his pants then started pushing through the crowd, using his size to weave through the throngs of people who were all here for the same reason. Guards—at least he thought they were guards—blew through their whistles, the shrill sound cutting through the din as they kept the crowd moving, kept the crowd under control.