Travis (Grim Sinners MC Book 3)

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Travis (Grim Sinners MC Book 3) Page 4

by LeAnn Ashers


  The thing is, I want him around. I want him to be with us; it’s comforting. He makes me feel safe, and Gabby really likes him. They are like two peas in a pod.

  “Hey, Ravis,” Gabby calls and he smiles at her so blindingly. She scoots over and leaves him a spot between us. He sits a little closer to me than her and looks at me like he’s the cat catching the mouse.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Tonight you and I are going out,” he says in a matter-of-fact way.

  “Yeah? What for?”

  “Baby, I am taking you out on a date. Wilder and Joslyn are coming over to watch Gabby for us.”

  What? He is really asking me out on a date? My mouth opens and closes; I don’t know what to say. It’s been so long. Of course I like him. I have liked him since the moment I met him. He is absolutely gorgeous, and he’s so kind to me and my daughter. Why wouldn’t I go? I study his face for a few moments before I nod. “Yeah, I will go.” I say softly.

  “YAY!” Gabby dances a little on her seat on the couch. I eye her. Aha! I thought she was being sneaky, always making sure we were sitting together.

  “You guys were in on this, weren’t you?” I smile.

  “Of course we were, Momma,” Gabby sings and I laugh loudly. At least I don’t have to worry about whether Gabby likes him. I grab my throw blanket, which has fallen to the floor, and pull it back over my legs. I unpause the movie and curl into the arm of the chair.

  We have been lazy for the last week. I wanted Gabby to heal and relax. So we have been doing everything possible to keep her entertained.

  Adeline has been by every single day to check in on us; that woman is such a beautiful soul. Every time she is around, I feel that I’m surrounded by motherly love. Something I wish my own mother had given me, but she must have missed that gene. I just can’t fathom it. Gabby is everything to me, and the idea of not being an involved parent is crazy. She is my life.

  I love being a mother more than anything. I want to have least one or two more kids someday. I think it’s a dream most women have: a family—that white fence with two point five kids.

  “Wear something casual,” Travis says. “You will be on the back of my bike.”

  I have never been on a motorcycle; what if I fall off? What do I say? “Okay.”

  He gives me that way-too-beautiful smile once again, and I think I would agree to anything. I lean against the arm of the chair. When I start to pull my blanket up, Travis does it for me. I am in so much trouble.

  His hand gets closer and closer to my face, and his fingertips touch my cheek before drifting into my hair. I close my eyes and let out a shaky breath, and goose bumps break out across my arms. The sensation of him stroking my hair is out of this world. I’m in more trouble than I thought I was; I think I am totally screwed.

  Around five o’clock, I walked upstairs to start getting ready for my date, and now it’s ten till seven.

  I am wearing a tight pair of skinny jeans with holes scattered throughout both legs. I am wearing a pair of booties, and the bottoms of my jeans are rolled up just a tad. My burgundy cold-shoulder top brings out my dark brown hair, which is in loose waves around my face, and my green eyes. My makeup is on point; the perks of being a makeup artist are paying off.

  Travis has not seen me this way. He has seen the scatterbrained mom who’s so busy the last thing on her mind is getting dressed up. I let out a deep breath, eyes closed, as I collect myself before going downstairs.

  Travis’s cousin Wilder and his wife, Joslyn, are on the couch with Gabby. Gabby notices me first. “Wow, you’re pretty, Momma.”

  I smile and walk over to her. “Thank you, angel.” I press my lips to the top of her head. “It’s nice to meet you guys,” I tell Wilder and Joslyn.

  “It’s nice to meet you too.” Joslyn touches my forearm, and I nod at Wilder. He does look like Travis; I can see it in his hair color and facial features.

  My front door opens, and Travis steps inside the house looking way too amazing. He is wearing a pair of jeans, biker boots, and a black T-shirt with his leather vest resting on top. His hair is swept to the side slightly with gel, and his tattoos are on display. He is absolutely beautiful, like the walk-into-the-wall-because-I’m-staring-so-hard kind of beautiful. He is even more beautiful on the inside; his heart is kind. That is something I have not encountered often. I need this energy change; it’s like my body and soul just feel lighter. Freer.

  Travis leans against the doorframe, arms across his chest. I bite the inside of my lip watching his eyes moving up and down my body. I can feel my heart beating, and my stomach is doing twists and turns. I clear my throat, and he finally smiles and splits the distance between us.

  “Aren’t you beautiful, Bailey,” he whispers, pushing my hair over my shoulder. My face is hot with embarrassment. I can feel Gabby’s, Wilder’s, and Joslyn’s eyes on us. Travis hasn’t even looked at them from the moment he walked into the house. “Ready to go?” he asks. He touches my chin and I nod.

  Someone clears their throat, and Travis turns around to face Wilder, who has a smirk on his face. “Nice of you to finally notice us,” Wilder says and Gabby laughs.

  “Yeah, Ravis.”

  I laugh. I love it when she throws out her sass. She is such a little diva.

  “Have fun, Momma.” She smiles and I touch the side of her face.

  “I will, baby. Be good for them, okay?”

  “I will.” She nods her little head, acting way older than her age. She is so cute I can’t stand it sometimes.

  “She will be fine,” Joslyn reassures me.

  “Thank you for watching her, both of you.” I look at her and Wilder, and Wilder nods.

  “Come on, Momma.” Travis intertwines our fingers and leads me out of the house. I peek back at Gabby one last time. She is sitting on the floor with Joslyn, who is playing dolls with her. She will be fine. I’m not sure if I will be.

  The door shuts behind us, and I follow Travis down the steps to his bike, which is parked in front. He swings his leg over the bike and sits down, and I stand next to him, clueless about what I am to do.

  He points his finger down. “Put your leg here, and then swing your other leg over and sit down. I will help you.” He reaches out and I place my hand in his, and I throw my leg over the seat. I let his hand go, and his hands wrap around my calves. “Oh, here.” He reaches into the saddle bag and hands me a leather jacket and a helmet.

  I slip on the jacket and put on the helmet, snapping the buckle. “Good?” I ask and he turns around to check me over.

  He smiles. “Perfect, Momma.” Oh bless my heart, his deep voice goes straight down to my valuable parts. They have been singing since the moment I met him, but I have been ignoring it because I do need to get laid but I can’t—like—jump his bones, no matter how much I want to. “Wrap your arms around my waist.”

  I lean forward and do as he asks; then the bike comes alive with a roar. He tilts his head back. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  Then we are off, my hair flying out behind me. I rest my chin on his shoulder, kind of scared but, at the same time, it is freeing. When we pull into traffic, it’s kind of scary; I know that a lot of people don’t watch for motorcycles. When we stop at a red light, I readjust myself in my seat to get more comfortable and loosen my death grip on him. A car pulls to a stop next to us; it is full of men staring at me. I turn away, ignoring them.

  “Hey, baby.”

  Travis

  “Hey baby.” That shit ran right through me. I look over at the fuckers, but they are staring at Bailey’s ass.

  I press my hand against her side to shield her ass. I do not fucking like disrespect, especially not toward Bailey. “Hey fucker, what are you doing?” I look the driver straight in the fucking eye and, with my free hand, I take out my gun and point it in their direction. Their eyes widen; then the light turns green and they look straight ahead and drive off. I laugh at their luck and put my gun back. Bailey is laughing he
r ass off. It makes me feel fucking good to know that she is okay with what I did. I don’t tolerate shit like that, especially right in front of my face.

  She moves closer to me, tucking herself against me. I grin. I love the feeling of her against my back. The sight of her resting behind me. She is fucking gorgeous, and she is fucking mine—she just doesn’t know that shit yet. This is just the first step, until it clicks in her brain that I am not going anywhere. Every single day I notice the surprise on her face when I walk through her front door. If it were up to me, I would never leave at night. I would stay on the fucking couch or in her bed, but I know better than to suggest the latter.

  At least I have Gabby on my side. She is super sly about it. She always makes sure that her mother and I end up sitting together.

  I pull up in front of a steakhouse and park in a section in front that’s reserved for the MC. We own this place. The Devil Souls MC owns all of the restaurants in Raleigh, Texas, and we own almost everything here, aside from the chain stores, which have become very successful in small towns. We are doing very well for ourselves.

  Bailey holds my shoulder as she throws her leg over the bike, and she takes off her helmet and shakes her head, letting her hair fall around her. Fuck me.

  She stops and looks at me, and I am completely staring at her. “What is it?” Her mouth is pressed into a little pout. So fucking beautiful. It’s a shame that she doesn’t even know it.

  “You’re fucking gorgeous,” I tell her, and she blushes right down to her chest. I laugh and touch her warm cheek. She pushes my hand away, looking away from me, pretending that I don’t affect her. She can pretend all she fucking wants to, but I do.

  That doesn’t mean that I am going to play along. Little by little I will break her down and get her to see me. “Come on, Momma, let’s get you fed before the real fun starts.” I put my hand on the small of her back, leading her inside the steakhouse.

  “What do you mean?”

  I wink. I am going to take her to an MC bar. We own the bar, and I know some of the brothers are going to be there tonight. I want her to let loose and have fun, something I know she has not done in a very long time.

  Bailey

  Have some fun? What did he mean by that? He is just giving me that sly little smile.

  As he holds the door open for me and I step inside, I notice him staring at my ass. Caught you. I raise my eyebrows at him, and he grins even wider. I can tell that he is not fazed at all, which is quite frustrating, considering.

  We grab a seat toward the back, and I sit down in a booth and scoot to the middle. I expect him to sit across from me, but he parks his butt in the seat next to me. “Uhh, what are you doing?” My insides are jumping with him being so close. I am nervous, and who can blame me? Look at him. If God could make the perfect creation, then this is it.

  “Sitting by the beautifulest woman in this restaurant?” He pushes my hair over my shoulder. Oh my word, this man.

  “Thank you, Travis, you’re sweet.” I tell him, and he turns his face away.

  “I’m not fucking sweet.”

  I laugh.

  “Yes you are, you’re a big softy.”

  He shakes his head. “Do not start this shit, Momma. I’m a badass.”

  I laugh louder and open my menu. “Keep telling yourself that, Travis.” I nudge his side with my elbow. He chuckles, grabbing my hand and pulling it into his lap so we can twine our fingers together, calm and unfazed. He is just holding my hand, and I am freaking out. My skin is tingling from that light touch, and I can feel his eyes on me. “What are you getting?” I ask, to break the silence that is wrecking my soul.

  “Steak.”

  I roll my eyes and continue to look at my menu. I look at the cheapest thing on the menu, and it’s soup.

  “Do not fucking dare get the cheapest thing on the menu,” he sasses me and I look at him full on, my mouth open in disbelief.

  “Maybe I just want soup?”

  “Momma, you skipped over everything else on the menu.” He arches an eyebrow at me, daring me to argue. Grrr.

  “Well, I can’t afford much.”

  He jolts like he is shocked. “Why the fuck does that matter? You aren’t buying anything, ever, in my presence.”

  I suck in my lips. My ex never bought me anything when we were out. I look at the menu then at him, “I didn’t want to assume. I usually buy my own meal,” I confess to him, and I regret it the moment I do. I don’t want anyone to know of the horrible times I went through. I never even knew what I was going through until I’d been on my own for a while. I realized my life had not been normal. Now it is even more clear to me. I’ve seen the way people here treat each other, and it’s been another huge wake-up call to me.

  He rests his elbow on the table and looks at me. I swallow hard at his full attention. “What the fuck do you mean?” he asks.

  I close my eyes for a few seconds. I just ruined it all. He lets go of my hand. Yeah, I ruined it. A hand touches my jaw. “Sweetheart?” I look at him again, and I might as well continue digging my own grave. No guy wants someone with baggage. “Nothing, I am not used to someone buying my dinner.” I throw it out there and laugh it off. I am overthinking. I know this, but anxiety is real and a bitch.

  He stares at the table for a few seconds, and his neck reddens. “You mean to tell me Gabby’s father never even bought your meal?” His tone has changed and it’s... deadly.

  I clear my throat. “No, he never did anything.” Oh my god, I just let out more than I should have.

  “He is a worthless piece of shit is what he is,” Travis says. I look down at the menu, saddened—because it’s absolutely true. He touches my chin, tilting my face up. His face is soft. “He did not deserve you or your precious baby.” My eyes fill with tears at his beautiful, kind words. He puts his hand on the back of my neck, and I bury my face in his chest, breathing in his scent: just Travis.

  “I bet this is not what you expected on this date.” I laugh and wipe away a tear. I guess he is okay with it.

  “This is better than I expected, now pick yourself out a damn steak.” He pats the side of my ass, and I laugh louder. I sit up straighter, feeling better, and I smile at him. I think sometimes I just need to let someone see what I have been through. I never had anyone to talk to about anything, so this is a load off of me.

  But I’m still terrified of seeming needy around Travis. I have a huge fear of people leaving my life. It all started when my mother abandoned me when I was pregnant; then all of my friends left and Gabby’s father left. Everyone just left. I was all alone, a teenager with a baby struggling to survive. I lived off of Ramen noodles for a whole year, and I can’t remember the last time I had steak.

  I look at my menu again, perusing the steak dinners. “You sure?” I ask.

  “Momma, get whatever the fuck you want.” He smirks, letting me know he is playing. I think he may kill me.

  The waitress comes by a second later and takes our order. Travis orders an appetizer; I haven’t eaten like this in a long time. I know this wouldn’t seem like a big deal to a lot of people, but to me this is huge. I haven’t had a really good meal in a long time. Gabby got the best food—she is my angel—and whatever was left over was for me. I even went for three to four days without eating so Gabby had a roof over her head and food in her belly. I do not regret a single second; I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I am proud of the fact that Gabby has never ever been deprived of anything. She is the most important thing in my life.

  The appetizer comes and we both dig in; I make sure there’s nothing left. I am not wasting a thing. I do this again with my salad. I can feel him looking at me, but I ignore it--he does it a lot. “I don’t think you know how beautiful you are, Bailey.”

  I smile at him; he is so sweet. “Thank you, Travis.” I lean my head on his shoulder for a second, and he kisses the top of my head. Did that just happen? That was so cute.

  Our food comes, and my mouth waters at the
sight and smell of the steak and mashed potatoes. “Thank you, Travis, for the food.”

  “How long did you go?” he asks. He hasn’t even touched his food yet.

  “What do you mean?”

  He licks his lips. Oh, he shouldn’t do that with me around. He is asking to be kissed. He pushes my hair over my shoulder so casually it’s like he doesn’t even notice himself doing small affectionate things. “How long did you go without eating?”

  My mouth falls open. How in the world did he know this? I sure never told anyone; can he read minds? “Travis, what?” I don’t know what to say or how to act.

  He looks away, his head hanging. “I hope the fuck I am wrong, the way you made sure nothing was wasted. And a bunch of other stuff I have noticed.” How embarrassing is this? “I need to know, so I know how bad I need to beat that motherfucker.” He grins through clenched teeth. My heart is beating so hard I can feel it in my throat, and my hands are shaking.

  “I have never been longer than three or four days. This happened every month when I didn’t have clients. Gabby never, ever went without. She always had everything she needed,” I whisper. I am so embarrassed.

  He looks wrecked. “Momma, I am so fucking sorry. You’re such an amazing fucking mother. I am in awe of you,” he whispers. He leans over and kisses the top of my head, letting his lips rest against my hair for a few beats. My eyes close instinctively. That was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, and it touched my soul. All of my nervousness has gone away in a split second.

  “Don’t be sorry. Stuff happens, but it doesn’t have to affect the now,” I say. It’s something I need to tell myself more often. Maybe saying it out loud to someone else will make it sink in?

  “Fucking beautiful.” He stares at me and shakes his head in disbelief. I am glad someone’s speechless besides me. I touch my forehead to his shoulder for a second, showing him my gratitude. I am not great with words. I don’t know what to say, but I also tend to overthink everything. I sure never expected our date to turn out the way it has so far—one surprise after another keeps hitting me. I don’t regret it though. I am glad that he did not freak out when I revealed what little I did; I no longer feel like I’m walking on eggshells.

 

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