Forbidden Promises

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Forbidden Promises Page 9

by Synithia Williams

Not following that dangerous path, India turned and examined his office. “You’ve got a nice place here.”

  “Thank you. When Byron and I decided to open our own practice, we had no idea how successful we’d be. He could take on cases when he was in State House, but now that he’s running for Senate, it’s pretty much all on me.”

  She turned back to him. His shirt was completely buttoned, tucked in, and his pants zipped. He was perfectly presentable, which shouldn’t make her want to pout. “Are you cool with that? Having more of the workload now that Byron is moving on?”

  “I am. I have no desire to run for public office. I’d rather help defend people who need help. If Byron wins, he’s going to sign over his part in the practice to me.”

  “Wow. Is that what you want?”

  “It’s a little scary, the idea of me being in charge of everything, but that’s normal. If I wasn’t a little nervous about it, then I’d be too confident and maybe make mistakes. But, yeah, I want this. I want to stand on my own. Without having to rely on my connections to your family.”

  She could understand that. She looked around his office again. The perfect decor, cool, professional ambience, and no hint of Travis’s personality except for the landscapes on the wall.

  “Good for you,” she said, turning back to the painting.

  She recognized the location. A creek near the back of the Robidoux estate. The area was pristine, beautiful and quiet. Nothing but the sounds of water trickling and the wind rustling through the leaves of the trees along the banks. He captured the peace of the place so perfectly. Would all of the creativity inside of him be lost once he was sole owner of the firm?

  Travis chuckled. She turned away from admiring the landscape on the wall to him and raised a brow. “That sounded really sincere.”

  Heat rose in her cheeks. Yeah, she could’ve tried to sound more enthusiastic about a big change in his life. “Sorry. I am happy for you, really.”

  “But?”

  She pointed to the painting on the wall. “But I remember when all you wanted to do was paint. Your dream was to open your own studio and teach others how to paint. I’d always pictured you would do that one day.”

  Understanding filled his eyes. He crossed the room with slow measured steps. When he moved like that, she couldn’t help but notice the grace of his slim and toned body. He stopped close enough for her to be aware of the tall strength of him and smell the subtle scent of his cologne, but not so close that she would accidentally bump into him if she moved. She ran a hand over her arm, but the movement didn’t soothe the tingling awareness buzzing over her skin.

  “I pictured that, too,” he said, sliding his hands into his pants pockets. “Then life happened. Your dad helped me through college. I needed to be able to support a wife. The job at Robidoux Tobacco in their legal department was hard to turn down. When I was tired of corporate law and Byron suggested starting our own firm, I was ready to make the move. I like being a defense attorney. Most days anyway.” He said the last part with a half smile that made her heart kick.

  She understood that. Travis’s father hadn’t been reliable for him and his mom. That’s why Travis had become a petty hustler to make more money before her dad decided to get him off the streets. He would have wanted to be reliable once he had a family depending on him.

  “Okay, I get why you decided to work for the company, but after the divorce... Once you left Robidoux Tobacco, why didn’t you decide to pursue your dream?”

  He stared at the painting. “I don’t really know.” He looked at her. “The idea of opening a studio didn’t cross my mind. I just knew I wanted to be on my own, and I needed to find a way to do that.” His voice and the line between his brows hinted at his regret for letting that dream go.

  She looked at the painting and remembered going to that same spot after graduation when her dad tried to force her into choosing a college with a great business program over one with a great music program. “Did Daddy make you work for Robidoux Tobacco?” Was that the reason he’d chosen law over art?

  Travis’s eyes shuttered as if someone had snapped closed the curtains to what he really felt. “He didn’t make me. Not really. I always had a choice.”

  “Then why do you sound like you regret the choice?”

  He faced her, his dark eyes intent as he studied her features. “When you’re younger, things seem a lot harder to overcome. A lot more difficult to survive.”

  “Do the things that seemed so hard then still seem hard now?” After all these years, she still found it difficult to ask what had changed between them. Mostly because she didn’t want him to confirm that their night together had been a whiskey-fueled mistake.

  He considered her words, then shook his head. “No. I would have done everything differently. I would have chosen what I wanted. Who I...” He trailed off.

  Her heart jumped erratically again. Conflicting emotions followed, bouncing here and there as her mind raced with uncertainties. Who what?

  “Chosen what?” she whispered.

  Travis turned his back to the painting. They faced each other. Separated by a few feet physically and a thousand miles emotionally. His face was an unreadable mask as he watched her.

  Unreadable except for his eyes. They were dark, intent and swirled with something hot and primal that made her body respond. Her mouth got dry and she sucked in a short, shallow breath. The silence in the room vibrated with the force of the attraction snapping between them. His gaze dropped to her mouth. She was chewing the corner of her lip. She stopped immediately and licked her lips. Travis’s eyes narrowed slightly. His own breathing seemed shallow. The pulse in his throat just as erratic as hers.

  They were friends. That night had been a mistake. We can’t go there!

  Sure, all of those things were reason enough for her to step away. Break the sensual spell she was falling under. She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t shake the anticipation of hearing what he would have done differently.

  Travis lifted a hand. His fingertips barely brushed her chin. The featherlight touch radiated through her veins. “Chosen not to make so many rash decisions. I messed up more than once.”

  His hand dropped. He broke eye contact, took a step back and walked to his desk.

  India let out a breath. Her heart went from overdrive to bitter disappointment. He’d messed up with her. She’d been one of those rash decisions. He didn’t see what could have been when he looked at her, he just saw another mistake.

  India kept her back to him. Pretended to look at the painting while she tried to wrestle the embarrassment and frustration churning in her midsection back into a confined space of her heart. She had to stop looking for signs Travis would have done things differently. He wouldn’t have. If she left town with a broken heart again, it would be her fault.

  “I still don’t think you should give up your dream of painting,” she said, trying to appear as if his words hadn’t been a blade in her heart.

  “I still paint when I can,” he said.

  She plastered what she hoped was a nonchalant look on her face before turning around. Travis leaned back against the edge of his desk. “Do you?”

  “Not as much as I’d like, but I haven’t given it up completely. Me not painting would be like you never playing again.”

  Her eyes widened, and she shuddered. “I couldn’t stop playing if I tried.” Music was her life. Part of her soul. There was no way she’d be able to give up her violin.

  “Exactly, but I just haven’t been as fortunate as you to make it my career.”

  “I could have a permanent position.” She crossed the room and rested her hands on the back of one of the chairs before his desk.

  “Here in Jackson Falls?” He sounded almost enthusiastic about the idea.

  She shook her head. “The LA Philharmonic, remember?”

  He rubbed his jaw. �
��Oh yeah, that’s right.”

  She chuckled and crossed her arms. “You don’t have to sound so enthusiastic.”

  He held up his hands in a you-got-me gesture. “My bad. You’re right. I just don’t get why you have to settle across the country.”

  She needed to move to California. She needed to be away from him. “I want the opportunity and California is just as good a place as any.”

  He took a few seconds to respond. “Then I wish you luck.” He spoke slowly, like he’d had to search for the right words.

  Her heart wanted to believe his hesitation came because he wanted her close. The rash-decisions comment from earlier killed that hope. Her damn heart was going to get her into trouble. “Thank you.”

  He rubbed his hands together. “So, about Byron’s fund-raiser. That is the reason you dropped in so early. Did you have an idea?”

  Yes, the real reason she was here. To talk about the campaign. Not talk about his art, her audition or wonder what could have been. “I’d thought about a family fun day at the park. Maybe partnering with the local community center to hold it.”

  His brows drew together. “How would that raise money?”

  “The proceeds from the food and game sales could go toward Byron’s campaign.”

  “We’d have to work out deals with the vendors,” he said thoughtfully. She could see him thinking over the possibilities.

  “Have you had any thoughts?”

  He shook his head, and fatigue that went beyond a bad night’s sleep covered his face. He looked depleted. “Honestly, no. I’ve been preoccupied with the upcoming trial. The state is bringing in new evidence to smear Mr. King’s reputation. I spent most of last night going over solutions to that.”

  The case that pitted him against his family. She was in front of him with a comforting hand on his arm before she’d registered moving. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  A light of appreciation filled his eyes. His hand, strong and warm, covered hers. “I’m fine but thank you for asking. Comes with the territory.”

  “But your family.”

  He squeezed her hand. His fingers were firm but gentle on hers. The muscles of his arms steady and strong beneath her touch. “Will understand that I’m only doing my job. My job is to defend my client. Even imperfect people deserve a fair trial.”

  She didn’t know the particulars of the case, but she didn’t like the look in his eye when he discussed the upcoming trial. “If you need to talk or anything...”

  “Are you offering your shoulder for me to lean on?” he asked with an upturn of his lips.

  Her heart sighed. Her body melted. “I’m here for you.”

  Something, longing maybe, flashed in his eyes. He lifted his hand away and dropped his eyes. “I appreciate that. I’ll be fine but thank you.”

  India pulled her hand off his arm. Once again, she felt foolish. She had to get a hold of her reactions to him. “You know, you’re really busy, and I’m just here waiting until it’s time to go to LA. Why don’t I handle things so you don’t have to worry about it?”

  Travis shook his head before she even finished. “I’m not putting all of this on you. I may not be able to do much, but I’m willing to help however I can. A family day at the park sounds great. We can partner with a local restaurant to sell food. Make it like a cookout or something.”

  “A family reunion vibe,” she said.

  “Yeah, I like that. Invite people over. Get to know the candidate. Byron can give a speech and work the crowd. No cost to attend.”

  “You think he’ll go for it?”

  “Byron? Yes. He wants something easy, and we’ll make this easy. Great job with the idea. Let’s make it happen.”

  She relaxed. That was easy. “I can work on finding a restaurant and reserving the park near the town square. We can communicate through email to make it easier with your schedule.”

  “Sure, but if you need me, feel free to drop in again.”

  And catch him half naked. She didn’t think so. “I’ll call first and not arrive thirty minutes early.”

  “I didn’t mind you coming early,” he said. Their eyes met. Electric heat rushed through her.

  “Still, I think it’s better if I don’t pop in on you again.” She let out a stiff laugh.

  “Yeah,” he said with a smile. “Next time you might catch me without pants.”

  The image of Travis in nothing but those red boxer briefs filled her mind. Her nipples hardened. Heat exploded in her midsection. She crossed her arms and rubbed the back of her neck. “Nah.” She cleared her throat. “We wouldn’t want that.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  INDIA MET ASHIYA for breakfast while she was in town after her meeting with Travis. Ashiya owned a high-end consignment shop downtown. She’d opened the place after working as a nurse for five years before realizing fashion was her passion. Breakfast had been fun, but the real reason India needed to see her cousin burst from her lips.

  “You’ve got to help me find a man.”

  Ashiya’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. She’d just taken a sip of iced tea as she and India walked down Main Street from the bistro where they’d had breakfast toward Ashiya’s shop. India’s hastily blurted request must have caught Ashiya off guard because she coughed and held up one finger. She stopped walking and faced India.

  “Hold up,” Ashiya said in a wheezy voice. She wiped a tear from her eye. “Where is this coming from?”

  Oh, just a regular old lusting-for-my-sister’s-ex-husband situation.

  She couldn’t say that. After meeting with Travis and nearly losing her mind at the sight of all that rich, dark skin exposed, there was only one thing for India to do: find a distraction. Ignoring her feelings for Travis had been a lot easier when there was an ocean between them. Now nothing separated them—she was even going to be working with him as they planned Byron’s campaign event. At home, she had her violin and her family, but that wasn’t enough to keep her thoughts from straying to Travis. She needed to get her life right and finally move on.

  “It’s been a while,” India said. She stepped out of the way for a woman walking a dog. “I’m ready to get back out there.”

  The sun was high, and the air unseasonably warm for early March. The sidewalks were filled with people in business suits, college students who congregated at some of the coffee shops along Main Street, and a group of students going to the art museum.

  Ashiya tilted her head to the side. She wore round blue-tinted shades that matched her nonconforming personality. “How long is a while?”

  “Does it really matter?”

  Ashiya gave her a don’t-be-silly look. “Yes, it matters. If we’re talking weeks, then I can take a little time and find the right guy. If we’re talking months or years, then I can point you in the direction of a guy who’d be good in a pinch just to take the edge off.”

  India covered her mouth and laughed. “You’ve got serious problems.”

  “Apparently you’re the one with the problem. So spill. Weeks, months or years?” She sipped her tea and batted long lashes while waiting on India’s reply.

  India sighed and thought back to the art professor she’d last dated in Paris. They’d both known it was temporary, and he had been good with his hands, but outside of the bedroom, they’d had little in common. “Months.”

  Ashiya lowered her shades and peered at India over the edge. “How many months?”

  India counted and couldn’t bring herself to answer. Five months was a while, but not long enough for her to be desperate for a quick hookup. “Will you stop worrying about the details and fill me in on the available single men in the area?”

  “Damn, that long.” Ashiya shook her head and pushed up her shades.

  India bumped Ashiya with her elbow. “Just stop and give me some ideas. Nothing long-term though. I’m still wai
ting to hear back about going to LA.”

  Ashiya rolled her eyes. “You’re still on that?”

  “Yes, I’m still on that. I’ve done a lot with Transatlantic, but now I want to build my own career. Going to LA would be huge. Staying here and being another Robidoux on the campaign trail won’t.” She held up a finger when Ashiya opened her mouth to argue. “So before you tell me I’ve been away too long, how about you give me some suggestions so I can have a little fun while I’m home?”

  Ashiya glowered for another second before letting out a breath in a huff and moving on. “Well, lucky for you your dad has already introduced you to the most eligible bachelor in town.” She started walking down the sidewalk again.

  India matched her pace. “Russell?”

  Ashiya chuckled. “I can’t believe you’re saying his name as if it’s a surprise. The guy is gorgeous.”

  “He is. I just didn’t realize he was the most eligible man in town.” Though she shouldn’t be surprised. The man had taken her breath away. Despite his looks, he hadn’t made her body yearn to get closer.

  “He’s rich, good-looking, and he’s not an asshole,” Ashiya said. “That pushes him to the top of most people’s lists. Have you talked to him since the party?”

  India shook her head. “No, he’s still calling and texting. He’s not being pushy, but he’s letting me know he’s interested. I haven’t really made myself open to him.” She still wasn’t warm on the idea of going for the guy her dad was pushing her toward. Not until she knew the ulterior motive.

  “Why not? You can’t tell me you don’t think he’s good-looking.” Ashiya bumped India’s shoulder with hers and winked.

  “He is good-looking,” she conceded. “He’s the best looking man I’ve ever met.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  He wasn’t the man she wanted. “My dad wants us together. I don’t want to be forced into a relationship.”

  Ashiya nodded and sipped her tea as she processed India’s reason. “On the real, I get that. But this time your dad actually picked someone who’s pretty decent.”

 

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