“Okay, I’ll be serious.”
He leaned closer, bracing one hand on the far side of her body. She wanted to reach up and pull him close. She settled on inhaling the scent of his body. He smelled like a fall day, with a hint of musk thrown in for temptation.
“Tell me your secret,” he said softly.
When she’d first met Sam she’d thought she’d loved him with her whole heart and soul. He only had to look at her to make her want to be with him, next to him, touched by him. She’d learned later that her feelings for Sam Proctor were more about the newness of a physical relationship than anything else. But it had already been too late. She’d committed the ultimate foolish act and fallen in love with him.
Nothing about Sam’s practiced charm had prepared her for Travis’s lethal combination of strength and concern. It would be so easy to lean on those shoulders she admired, to tell him everything. But to what end? Once he knew the truth— She couldn’t even bear to think about it.
“I can’t.” She met his gaze and held it.
“You won’t.”
“Yes. I won’t. Please don’t ask me again. I don’t want to have to lie to you. I haven’t done anything illegal. It’s a silly little secret, but it’s mine to keep. If telling you everything about my past is the price for staying, then I have to leave.”
He studied her a long time. His gaze swept over her face, stopping at her mouth before dipping to her throat and returning. He reached up and touched her cheek, much as she’d touched Mandy’s. But his caress was anything but maternal. Her stomach tightened and her breasts tingled in response.
Before she could say anything, or think about touching him back, he reached down for the comforter folded up at the foot of the bed. He pulled it over her and smoothed it in place. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead.
“Go to sleep, darlin’,” he said, and stood up.
She watched him leave the room and close the door quietly behind him. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. It would be so easy to let Travis into her world, she thought sadly. So easy to try to believe again. If she had the strength and the words, she would explain that it wasn’t so much about him. Sure, she couldn’t risk trusting a man again, but worse, she couldn’t trust herself.
“You’re nervous,” Travis said, taking off his Stetson and sending it across the family room. It landed neatly in the center of a writing desk on the left side of the window.
Elizabeth sank into the leather sofa and rolled her eyes. “Number one, if you keep doing that hat toss trick to impress me, I’m immune.”
“Liar,” he said as he crossed the room.
His khaki uniform, slightly wrinkled from his day at work, made his shoulders look broader and his legs longer. His wide black belt emphasized his trim waist. And yes, she had been lying. The nightly toss of the Stetson got her heart racing as if she’d just climbed three flights of stairs.
He settled on the sofa and grinned. “What’s number two?”
“Number two is I have nothing to be nervous about.”
“Double liar.” He leaned closer, resting his weight on
his elbow. His perfectly trimmed mustache outlined the teasing curve of his mouth. “I’ve made tougher women than you swoon with my cowboy hat, and while there’s no reason to be nervous about having dinner with Rebecca, you are. I can see it in your eyes.”
She opened her mouth to deny his statement, then closed it. He was right; she was nervous. “Okay, just a little.”
He sat up straight, then leaned over and patted her bare leg. “Don’t be. Rebecca’s a sweetheart.” He kept his warm hand on her knee. She told herself she should move away, but she liked it when he touched her.
She raised her eyebrows. “Do you realize that every time a female citizen of Glenwood is mentioned, you’ve dated her?”
“Only if they’re between twenty-five and forty.”
She reached behind her for one of the throw pillows and batted his hand away. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m one of the Haynes boys. What else am I supposed to do?”
She’d been in Travis’s house for six days. Louise had filled her head with enough stories to tell her what being a “Haynes boy” meant. “Settle down with one woman. Try monogamy for a change. There is something to be said for quality rather than quantity.”
His good humor faded quickly. “I tried that, remember?”
“Oh.” She did recall him mentioning a divorce. “Sorry.” She was silent for a moment. “So what happened?”
He turned his head until he was looking at her. The lines around his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “You’ve been hanging around with Louise a little too much, don’t you think? You could have been a bit more subtle with that question.”
“Probably,” she admitted shamelessly. “So what happened? Or don’t you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to say. It just didn’t work. I’m sure some of it was her fault, but I have to take most of the blame.” He held his hands out in front of him, palms up. “It’s a little difficult to get past who I am.”
“So that’s why you know Rebecca is a sweetheart?”
“Want to know a secret?”
She wasn’t sure she did, but Travis was difficult enough to resist most of the time, and now, when he was rumpled and just tired enough to let his guard down, he was impossible to refuse.
“Sure.”
He slid closer to her. Her body tensed. Her incision had healed quite a bit, although it still hurt if she moved around too much. She wanted to pull back, but there was nowhere to go except off the sofa. Six days with Travis had taught her two important things. The first was that being in his presence made her very aware of her body, his body and the potential those two bodies had together. She told herself it was just hormones, and being lonely and afraid that brought on that thinking. The second thing she learned was that even if she was ever foolish enough to get involved with a man again. Travis Haynes was absolutely the worst one she could pick. He and his brothers had reputations for being lady-killers and heartbreakers. Louise had told her story after story about the female conquests made and cast aside. Elizabeth had to admit that in most of the stories, Travis had been honest, caring and had at least tried to make the relationship work. But the reality was he made Sam Proctor look like an amateur when it came to seducing women.
He leaned over so he could whisper in her ear. His chin rested on her shoulder, pushing aside the thin strap of her tank top. Stubble grazed her suddenly sensitized skin, making her muscles jump and her toes curl against the thick carpet.
“Rebecca is my greatest failure.”
“What?”
She made the mistake of turning to look at him. He hadn’t pulled back and their faces were inches apart. Breath mingled with the heady scent of his warm body. She clutched her fingers tightly together to prevent herself from reaching out toward him and touching his arm, his chest, anything she could get her hands on.
“Shortly after we met, I took her out on a date. It was supposed to be this great seduction. I had everything planned.”
The pain in her midsection wasn’t from the surgery, she realized, chagrined. It was envy, pure and simple. She prayed he couldn’t see it in her eyes.
“I