Table for Two

by Jennifer Mckenzie

  The first fingers of light began to creep into the room, but Travis still didn’t move. Not until Mal started, her entire body jerking against his.

  “Good morning.” He nuzzled the side of her neck.

  She didn’t move right away. For a full thirty seconds, they lay there in peaceful silence, then she slowly rolled over, looked him in the eye and said, “I think last night was a mistake.”

  Travis wasn’t surprised. Mal wasn’t one to back down from a decision lightly, and despite her body’s desire for his, he knew her head needed to catch up.

  “Oh?” He kept his tone light and undemanding, sensing if he pushed too hard she’d feel backed into a corner and would stand firm there even when it became obvious that she was punishing herself.

  “Yes.” She nodded as though to further strengthen her statement, but the effect was lost since she still wouldn’t look at him directly. “I was, well... I was something and now I’m not.”

  “Now you’re not,” Travis repeated. He noted that Mal still held his hand in hers, keeping it close during her movements.

  “Right.” She nodded again. He doubted she even realized she was still clinging to him, her fingers tightening around his even now.

  “I don’t think it was a mistake.”

  “Maybe that’s your mistake.” She kept her eyes down.

  Travis shrugged. “Maybe it is.” But he didn’t think so and he didn’t believe that Mal did, either. He reached out with his free hand and tilted her face upward. There was a small wrinkle between her eyes and a small frown on her lips. “Babe?”

  Her head snapped up without help this time. “Don’t call me that. It makes me do things I shouldn’t.”

  Travis allowed himself a small smile. “I’m not sure you should be telling me that.”

  Her eyes met his. “Good point.”

  “Like I might ask you to kiss me good morning, babe.”

  She scowled. “It’s not a form of hypnotism.”

  “I don’t think we’ve had a large enough sample to prove that.” He could think of plenty of ways he’d like to test his hypothesis, though. “How about I take you out for breakfast so we can discuss further?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You need to eat, don’t you?” He knew how cranky Mal got when she missed a meal. From the looks of her thinner figure, she’d been cranky on a number of occasions this year.

  “I can get by on coffee.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since always.” Her glare dared him to contradict her. Travis never had been able to ignore a dare, even when it was in his best interest to do so.

  “What about that time in Whistler—”

  She put her free hand over his mouth. “One time. And you never let me live it down.”

  He kissed her palm and said around her fingers, “You tried to steal my doughnut.”

  She whipped her hand behind her back, but not before he got in another kiss. “A gentleman would have offered.”

  “As I recall, I did.” He remembered very clearly.

  “You squeezed the filling onto your chest.”

  “You seemed to like licking it off.”

  “I was starving!”

  “Are you starving now? Because I’m sure I can find a doughnut shop nearby.”

  The corners of her mouth flickered, but stayed down. “No, I don’t want a doughnut.”

  “An omelet? Pancakes? Toast? I’m a champion toast maker and I have a chest that likes crumbs.”

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I need coffee and I broke my coffeemaker.”

  “How?”

  Mal shrugged. “I was hungry. It was between me and the toaster. It had to go.”

  Travis snorted. “Well, then let’s save the rest of your small appliances and have breakfast out. Do you want to shower first or should I?”

  “Travis.” Her mouth was making that down arrow again.

  “Okay, okay.” He lifted a hand in compromise. “You win. We’ll conserve water and shower together.” He paused. “Babe.”

  Mal did her best to keep her scowl front and center, but he saw the edges quiver, threaten to turn upward into an actual grin. “I don’t think so.”

  “I can be very convincing.” He leaned forward, kissed the side of her neck. “Very convincing.”

  He felt her shudder, heard the little sigh escape her mouth. “Travis.”

  But she didn’t say no and didn’t push him away. He trailed the kisses upward, taking a moment to explore the soft curve of her ear. He would totally forgo the shower if they stayed right where they were.

  “No.” She pulled back. “I can’t do this. You should go.” She glared when he didn’t immediately leap out of bed and start hunting for his clothes, tossed around the room in their haste last night. “Well?”

  “You’ve got my hand.” He glanced meaningfully at the appendage, which remained cushioned between her breasts.

  “Oh.” She let go and Travis instantly missed the connection. “Well, now I don’t.”

  No, but she had his heart. “Mal.” He took a deep breath. “I—”

  She cut him off before the second word. “Don’t.” She turned her face toward the pillow and pulled the cover over her body, depriving Travis of the glorious view. “I can’t do this, Travis.”

  “Do what?” He honestly wanted to know. Couldn’t forgive him? Couldn’t be with him? Because she’d certainly seemed capable of both of those things last night.

  She stared at the pillow. “This. Us. Whatever you want to call it.”

  Travis swallowed his hurt. He’d thought after last night that they’d be able to move forward. He hadn’t expected things to revert to how they’d been before, but he’d thought they could at least start fresh. Or, if not fresh, over. “Why?”

  “Because.” Her eyes met his. He saw the swirl of confusion and concern in them. “Just because.”

  “I’ve got to tell you, that’s not a very convincing argument.”

  She didn’t laugh at his little play on his earlier comment, didn’t smile either. “I know. But it’s all I have.”

  “Mal.” He reached out to rub her shoulder. When she didn’t shrug him off, he continued. “I know that what happened damaged us, but we can get through it.”

  “You can get through it.”

  His fingers went icy, but he maintained his calm tone. “You can’t?”

  Her chin dipped again and she busied her hands fussing with the edge of the bedcover. “I don’t know.”

  Definitely not saying no.

  Travis wanted to reach for her, kiss her, hug her, reassure her that this could work. That they could work. Instead, he rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head. “Whatever you want to call last night, it wasn’t a mistake.”

  He felt the bed dip when she shifted, felt her eyes on him, trailing along his body and up to his face. “What would you call it?”

  “A beginning.”

  * * *

  A BEGINNING?

  A jolt rocked Mal right down to her toes, followed by a beam of hope she pretended not to notice. It was one night, just to get him out of her system and that was it. “Be serious.”

  “I am serious.” Travis swiveled his head to look at her. Mal had to admit, he certainly looked sincere.

  She dropped her gaze, but that only put his tattooed chest in full view. Her cheeks warmed as she remembered how she’d traced his tattoos last night with her fingers and her tongue. Not a memory she should be appreciating if she wanted to steer this conversation. “It can’t be a beginning,” she told him.

  “Why not?”

  “Because we’ve already had our beginning.” And their ending. Her chest squeezed and she had to focu
s on drawing in a breath.

  “We can have another one.”

  Mal glanced up, saw the hopeful smile on his face and felt the answering return on her own before she frowned it away. They couldn’t. She’d made her decision and she planned to stick to it. Wavering and wondering had no place in her life. And if Travis felt otherwise, he’d had an entire year to do something before now.

  “Give me a chance, Mal. I promise I’ll make it all up to you.”

  She wished that could be true. It would be so easy to nod and agree, to slide back into his arms and let him kiss away her fears. But it couldn’t last. She couldn’t trust him and every time he was late or didn’t answer his phone or had to cancel plans last minute, she’d wonder.

  She didn’t want to wonder.

  “I’m sorry, Travis.” And she was, even before his expression fell. “But I can’t.”

  “Then what was last night?” He didn’t sound angry. She would have found it easier to handle if he had.

  “It was goodbye.” She pulled the bedcover more tightly around her as though she could hold herself together with a 600 cotton thread count.

  “No.” He rolled on his side to face her. “I don’t believe that.”

  “You don’t have to because I do.” She heard her pulse give a loud thump, as though asking if she was sure. She was. For the sake of her poor, battered heart, her broken dreams and her now innate trust issues, she had to be.

  “I don’t believe you.” Travis’s brow wrinkled. “Because if you really wanted to say goodbye, last night wouldn’t have happened.”

  “It was goodbye whether you believe me or not.” She forced her gaze to his. Her reasoning was twofold, both to ensure that he knew she meant what she said and to remind herself that she still had her pride. She had no reason to hide, no reason to tuck herself away and avoid him. She had nothing to be sorry for or embarrassed about.

  Travis’s frown deepened. “Really.”

  She heard the note of disbelief in his voice. She’d have to be deaf not to. “Yes, really.” And if she sounded a tad more strident than she meant, it was only because he wasn’t accepting her pronouncement.

  “And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind.”

  Mal shook her head, but disappointment twisted through her relief. It wasn’t that she wanted him to fight her decision, but it would have been nice to know he cared—that he thought she was worth fighting for.

  “So, then, we’re just lying here naked for our own enjoyment?”

  “I don’t know why you’re lying here.” She clutched the edge of the cover. “But I’m lying here because I always take a few minutes to plan my day before I get up.”

  Now Travis shook his head. “No, you don’t.”

  Her pulse skipped. Why wasn’t he getting up and getting out of her bedroom? “I do.”

  “No.” He rolled forward. Mal could feel the warmth of his body through the covers and shivered. “You wait until you get into the office to plan because you want to make sure nothing’s come up before committing to your schedule.” He reached out to stroke her cheek and Mal felt her pulse skitter. “You forget that I know you and I know when you’re lying.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “About the planning or the goodbye?”

  Her tongue froze and she had to take a few quick breaths before she could speak. “Both.” He stroked her cheek again. She wanted to close her eyes and revel in the touch, but she couldn’t. “So if you don’t mind, I need to shower.”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  “Yes, to leave.” Because she wasn’t getting out of this bed until he was gone. She considered wrapping the sheets around herself and dragging them off the bed, but that would leave Travis completely naked and that might prove to be just as dangerous as exposing herself. “I have to work, Travis.”

  “I know.” He cupped her cheek. The familiar touch almost undid her. Almost. “So I’ll go, but this isn’t over.”

  Mal watched as he slid from the bed, his tight ass winking at her as he stretched and then bent to retrieve some of his clothing. She watched as he stepped into his jeans and slipped his shirt over his head, the edge of his Scottish Cross tattoo peeking out beneath the cuff.

  Her breathing stilled when Travis walked around the bed and turned toward her instead of the door. No, he was supposed to walk out the door without a backward glance, without another word or touch. He wasn’t supposed to watch her, emotion coloring his eyes a lustrous gray. He wasn’t supposed to give her that little smile that made her insides feel melty.

  His head dipped, his face lowered to hers. Mal knew why. Everyone knew why. And yet neither she nor anyone else stopped him. She simply stared at him, feeling her eyes widen and then slip shut when his lips brushed hers. Her heart beat harder, then faster, but their kiss remained light, lips skimming more than pressing. She clutched the sheet, her fingers burrowing into the soft material. Oh, she shouldn’t be enjoying this at all, period, let alone as much as she was.

  He needed to go, she needed to forget him and get on with her life. It wasn’t healthy, this half-life she’d been living. She knew that and yet here she was, all growing heat and whispering need, feeling her entire body arch toward him.

  Why had he come back? Why couldn’t he have stayed in Aruba? Or, if he’d had to come back, why did he insist on re-inserting himself into her life? Her grip on the sheet loosened as his hand came around to support the back of her head and lift her closer. She felt the material slide down her body, but rather than pulling it back into place, her hands lifted to circle Travis’s neck. So much for showing him that this was it, that she was done.

  Why couldn’t she just move on? Why couldn’t he?

  A small sob rose in her chest. But she didn’t know if it was sadness or something else, simply a surfeit of emotion that needed an exit.

  “Mal.” His breath kissed her lips. “I need to tell you something.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her hands back to her sides. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hear it, it was that she didn’t know if she could handle it. Not when she was naked in her bed, her entire body imprinted with memories of his. But rather than finishing his thought or lowering himself onto the bed with her as she’d expected, Mal felt a rush of cool air as Travis stepped back.

  Her eyes popped open. He was leaving? Without telling her what was so important that he’d had to stop kissing her to voice it?

  “Travis?” Even as she told herself that he was leaving and she shouldn’t stop him, that she should just let him go, she couldn’t help asking. “What did you want to tell me?”

  He smiled and stopped moving, staking his place in her bedroom. “This isn’t goodbye, babe.” Staking his place in her life.

  Mal knew she shouldn’t have let him upstairs last night, but by the time she gathered herself to say so, he was already out the door, closing it behind him with a light click. And it wasn’t as if she could run after him to insist he listen to what she had to say. Not even with a sheet wrapped tightly around her. Not even if she was fully clothed and in her highest, most kick-ass heels. Not even if she had a suit of armor. Because she had a feeling that armor would be nothing when faced with the onslaught from a determined Travis Kincaid.

  So she’d just have to be stronger. Which meant no more late-night visits, no more inside jokes and no more access to her bedroom. No matter how much she might want to grant it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TRAVIS STOPPED FOR coffee and a muffin at a shop half a block from Mal’s. What could he say? Their conversation had put him in the mood for breakfast. Of course, he’d have preferred a doughnut, but in yoga-pants-wearing, running-up-mountainsides-for-fun Vancouver, a muffin was easier to come by. Especially if you were willing to entertain a healthy option.

  According
to the young woman at the counter, this one had been made with applesauce in lieu of butter. It was actually quite tasty. No comparison to cardboard or birdseed or dust, except in his head before he’d actually taken a bite. The fair trade organic coffee was pretty good, too. He could learn to make the small, steamy café his regular morning stop.

  He downed the muffin in three bites, but lingered over the coffee, enjoying the dark-roasted flavor as he made his way along the empty sidewalks, most residents still in bed, catching those last minutes of sleep before they had be up and getting ready for work. It suited him, the quiet of the city, the stillness. It allowed his mind to wander freely. It wasn’t a bright day, but Travis felt plenty cheerful, so the lack of actual sun didn’t bother him.

  Things were looking up. He had his potential bar site, he had his health and friends. And he had hope. A whole lot of hope.

  He grinned as he let himself into the tall building he currently called home and downed the last of his coffee. He wanted to call Mal. To see how she was, ask if he could see her tonight. His fingers actually flexed in preparation for pulling out the phone and doing so, but he stopped himself.

  She needed space, a little time to think about what had happened—and about him. And now that he was back in Vancouver to stay, there was no need to rush. He had plenty of time to win his way back into her heart. So long as he could stave off his natural inclination to push harder and faster.

  Travis waited until he was in the apartment before he pulled out his phone and looked at the blank screen. Just a few quick swipes and he could be hearing Mal’s voice on the other end. He paused. Maybe she needed a push, a little nudge to prevent her from building up that protective wall again, convincing herself that she was over him, that they were finished.

  He woke up the device, keyed in the password and studied the brightly colored screen. Just a few quick swipes. His thumb had a mind of its own. One touch here, a scrolling down the screen, another touch there and the familiar click of the line connecting followed by two rings.

  “Do not tell me you’re calling to say you burned down my apartment.”