Table for Two

by Jennifer Mckenzie

  “That’s not fair.” Mal scooped her underwear off the floor and her bra. “How can I defend against the sympathy card?”

  “You can’t, which is why I brought it out.”

  He thought he was so smart. Actually, she had to hand it to him, it was pretty good. But she couldn’t let that slide. He might start thinking he could use it to get anything he wanted, abusing his power. It was the principle of the thing. “Well, then. In return, you don’t get to watch me dress.” She sat on the bed, keeping her back to him and pulled the cover up high enough that she could get her underwear on.

  “Now who’s not playing fair?”

  “You reap what you sow,” she told him, and slipped into her bra without dropping the cover. Her jeans went on next, but her shirt was across the room. No longer on the floor, it dangled from Travis’s finger.

  “Looking for something?”

  “Actually, I thought I’d go down shirtless.”

  Travis lifted his eyebrows. “Well, don’t let me stop you.” He motioned to the covers she still clutched to her chest. “Or I can hand it over for a kiss.”

  “Are you bargaining? With my clothes?”

  His eyes flicked down to the shirt then back to her face. “It looks that way.”

  “And if I say no?” She lifted her chin in challenge.

  “Then I’ll be sad. Very sad.” He handed over the shirt when she reached for it.

  Mal tugged it over her head, only releasing the cover once it was on. Again, the principle of the thing. She looked up at him. He put on his best sad face. “Well, I guess I’ll have to kiss you all better.” She curled her arms around his neck.

  He was still warm with sleep as he lowered his head. “Just one of the things I love about you,” he said just before his lips brushed hers.

  Her eyes fluttered shut. “My amazing kissing ability?”

  “That too.” Another kiss. “But I meant your big heart.”

  Mal felt the organ in question grow, swelling so it felt as if it filled her entire chest. It was really getting a workout these days. For so long she’d walled it off, kept it hidden so it didn’t hurt. But she’d cut off so much, too—so much that she’d missed out on. She pressed closer to him.

  “Thank you for coming with me.”

  She brushed her lips across his instead of answering.

  * * *

  TRAVIS DIDN’T WANT to let go of Mal. He either kept an arm around her shoulder or her hand wrapped in his the entire time they were at the funeral home. It helped, knowing she was there, knowing how happy it would have made his grandma to see them together.

  He was glad he’d kept their breakup to himself. It would have disappointed his grandma and somehow it helped knowing that she hadn’t been let down. That she’d continued to consider them a couple and imagine the great-grandkids they might give her. Even if she would never see them.

  His fingers, currently entwined in Mal’s, tightened.

  Doose, the funeral director, was going on about their options. Burial or cremation, casket type, service, music, until it all became a whirl of noise and choice.

  Travis tried to listen. The list Gram left had specified certain requests, but she hadn’t updated it since the late sixties when she’d buried her own husband, so most things she’d wanted then were no longer available. He knew his mother would only be overwhelmed. And his dad wasn’t much of a talker, while Shane would go with whatever the majority wanted. Which meant he needed to pay attention and make recommendations.

  “So, as you can see, if you go with an open casket, you’ll want something with a nicer interior.” Travis stared at the picture. “This one goes especially well with the pink lilies you said she wanted.”

  Travis was sure it did, but then so did the other ones. He looked at Mal. She glanced back and gave his hand a squeeze. It helped settle him, or at least let him gather enough focus to listen to what Doose was saying.

  It took another hour to finalize decisions and the service. Travis held onto Mal’s hand the entire time. He continued holding it when they stepped out of the funeral home into the still-warm evening.

  The group was quiet as they walked to the parking lot. Of course, his father was always quiet but it was weird not to hear his mother and brother chatting. He couldn’t blame them. Travis didn’t feel much like chatting either.

  His mom was leaning against his dad as they walked. She looked delicate, her usual good cheer having worn out over the course of the day.

  “Let’s go out for dinner,” Travis suggested. He knew he didn’t feel like cooking and he doubted anyone else did.

  His mom turned her head to share a tired smile. “I’m not really hungry.”

  “You need to eat,” he paused. “And now I sound like the parent. Clean your room!” Which garnered a small laugh and made him feel a little better.

  “Why don’t you kids go out?” his mom suggested. “Your dad and I will have something at home.” His dad just nodded, which was closer to normal behavior.

  Travis looked at Shane. “You hungry?”

  “I am.” He jangled the keys in his hand. “Joe’s?”

  “Done.” Travis boosted Mal into the cab of Shane’s truck and climbed in beside her. It was cozy, the space limited to begin with and made more so by a hooded sweatshirt and some empty juice bottles Shane had left behind. Travis tossed the bottles onto the floor and placed the sweatshirt along the back of the seat, then he took advantage of the tight space and slung his arm over Mal’s shoulder.

  It was a short ride to Joe’s and they were seated right away. “I’m so sorry to hear about your gram,” said Loretta Joe as she showed them to a booth. Loretta was the hostess for the bar and grill she owned with her husband and had gone to school with Travis’s mom. “She was a good lady.”

  “She was,” he agreed. “Thanks, Loretta.”

  Loretta nodded and doled out menus. “You tell your mother I’ll be by tomorrow to see her.”

  “She’ll appreciate that.”

  Another nod and Loretta was off.

  “I can’t believe this place looks exactly the same.” Mal gazed around the room. “It’s nice. It feels like a homecoming.”

  “It hasn’t been that long since you were here,” Shane pointed out. “What? A couple of years, max? Did you think you’d never see it again?”

  Mal glanced at Travis. “I wasn’t sure.”

  “I’m glad you came,” Shane said, oblivious to the silent conversation happening in front of him. He flipped open his menu, perusing the selections, yet those also hadn’t changed in years. “Next time don’t stay away so long. We all missed you.”

  A small V appeared between Mal’s brows, though she merely said, “I missed you, too.”

  “Good. Then you’ll be back sooner next time. I think I’m gonna have a burger.” He put down the menu, picked it back up and put it down again. “I need a drink. You guys want a drink?”

  “I’m sure a server will be by in a minute.” Joe’s would never be mistaken for fine dining with its claim-to-fame buffet, its plated selections that consisted of burgers with or without cheese and nachos for appies, but the service was good.

  “Well, I need to do something, you know?” Shane was already out of the booth. “Beer?”

  “Please,” Mal answered.

  “Water.” As good as a cold one would taste, now was not the time to start drinking. Not even in moderation. Because nothing about the current swirl of emotions inside him felt moderate.

  Shane nodded and headed over to the bar to place their order.

  Travis glanced down to find Mal was still watching him, the little V now a frown. He leaned down so his lips were beside her ear. “If you keep frowning, your face will freeze that way.”

  “Why did Shane assume I’d be comin
g back?”

  Damn. Travis had foolishly hoped this might not come up on the trip—and especially not with his brother along for the ride. Shane’s attention was currently on the TV hanging behind the bar while he waited for their drinks, but even Shane would notice a serious discussion happening right in front of him.

  “Can we talk about it later?” He brushed a thumb across the line between her brows.

  She looked at him closely, studying, then nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  Travis wasn’t sure if it was a promise or a threat.

  * * *

  THE FUNERAL SERVICE remembering Mildred Dawes took place on Friday evening, but Mal and Travis stayed in Duthie River until Sunday. He was quiet during the flight back and Mal was, too. She knew they needed to talk, but she thought it best to wait until they were back on solid land, back in their daily lives before broaching it.

  He was still upset about losing his grandma and, to be fair, Mal was, too. Mildred had left her a pair of sapphire earrings, the set matching the ring Travis had given her for their engagement.

  Donna had asked about the ring and Mal had had to lie and say it was being cleaned, which was why she wasn’t wearing it, when in reality it sat in her jewelry box at home. But now she had to question if it should stay there. What were she and Travis?

  She hadn’t needed a degree in astrophysics to figure out that Travis had kept their breakup a secret. The question was, why? She hadn’t broached the subject yet, feeling as if it was a conversation that should wait. But as their plane neared Vancouver, she had to ask herself how much longer she could put it off.

  The roar of the plane’s engine made it hard to talk unless you pressed your mouth practically against the other person’s ear. Mal shivered when Travis did just that.

  “Can I come to your place tonight?” He pressed a kiss just below her ear when he did. He’d done that a lot this trip. Kissing, holding, touching, always making sure some part of them was in contact.

  “I have to get up early for work.” She had a lot to do, having been away for nearly a week. And she needed time alone to figure out how she felt about everything. The secrets...and her own participation in them as she’d allowed his family to continue thinking they were still together. And how she felt about the realization that she’d liked them thinking it, liked pretending that the breakup hadn’t happened and she and Travis were as strong as ever.

  He kissed her neck again. “Please.”

  Mal’s eyes slipped shut. Maybe the conversation and her feelings about it could wait one more night. Just until they were both in a strong enough headspace to talk rationally and reasonably. Just until she could figure out what she wanted. “Okay.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  TRAVIS SPENT THE night at Mal’s apartment. And the one after. And the one after that. He was grateful that she didn’t raise the subject of why his family had no knowledge of their breakup, but he knew it would come up eventually. It was just a matter of when and where they were in their new relationship. He hoped to forestall it as long as possible, feeling as though the longer they waited, the less power it would have to crack the foundation of this new love they were building.

  Not that she’d said she loved him. Not yet. But he hoped it was only a matter of time.

  He knew that he loved her, that he wanted to be with her, and he was willing to do whatever it took to ensure she understood that. He’d screwed up before. But this was a new start. One free of mistakes.

  Mal had left early for work, so Travis had returned to his own place for a shower and coffee. He’d been looking over plans for The Blue Mermaid and considering new names for the space. He wanted to maintain something of the original, but didn’t want to confuse anyone into thinking it would be the same kind of establishment.

  He would like Mal’s opinion on the name and on other things to do with the business, as well. She was incredibly good at what she did. And if it meant they needed to spend more time together, that was all good with him.

  A quick glance at the clock told him she’d been at the office for a couple of hours. Certainly long enough to deal with her email and any questions that might have come up overnight. She probably needed a break, and he was just the man to provide one. He scooped up his phone and called.

  Her voice mail answered. “Hello. You’ve reached Mallory Ford, director of marketing for the Ford Group. If you’ll leave your name and number and reason for your call, I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you.”

  “It’s me.” He was confident that she’d recognize his voice even if she didn’t check her missed call list before listening to her voice mail. “I was thinking you might like to join me on a tour of my new place.” He doubted she’d be able to turn down the offer. The opportunity to shape the future of the restaurant she’d loved so much would be irresistible. Or so he hoped. And if not, he had a backup plan. “I was thinking of ripping out the bar and replacing it with something glass. Call me later. Or I’ll call you.”

  He hung up and sat down with his fresh coffee. He had no intention of ripping out the bar or replacing anything wood with glass, but he knew it would light a fire under Mal who’d once waxed poetic about the long wooden bar for twenty minutes.

  When his phone rang two minutes later and her number came up on call display, he practically rubbed his hands together. “Hello?”

  “If you rip out that glorious bar, I want to buy it.”

  “Oh?” He took a casual sip of his coffee. “Not kill me?” The bar was a masterpiece, as Mal pointed out multiple times during her twenty-minute tribute.

  “Oh, I’ll do that, too. Once I have the bar away from you so you can’t do any further damage. Seriously, Travis, I’ll do it even though I look terrible in orange.”

  “You don’t look terrible in anything.” Mal looked great in everything. And out of everything.

  “I didn’t call to be flattered by you.” But he could tell she was smiling.

  “No?” He was enjoying himself and leaned forward onto the counter. “Then why did you call? To set up a date?”

  She snorted. “I didn’t call to listen to you flatter yourself, either.”

  “Well, somebody has to. So, do you want to come and see it? I’ve been going over plans today for the renovations.”

  He heard the excited intake of breath. “When can I come?”

  Travis grinned. He’d known she wouldn’t be able to turn down the chance to help shape the space. “This afternoon, and then I’ll thank you by taking you out for dinner.”

  “I’m busy tonight.”

  “Oh?” His tone was light, but the disappointment settling over him was not. She hadn’t mentioned anything about having plans tonight. He’d assumed they’d do something together. “What’s happening tonight?”

  “I have a business meeting.”

  “With your brothers?” Some of his disappointment eased. Maybe he could take her out for a late dinner. She had to eat sometime, didn’t she?

  “No, for an event I’m organizing. I can meet you at four.”

  What event? Why hadn’t she mentioned it to him? The questions rose on his lips, but he swallowed them. Mal was allowed to make her own plans, have her own interests. He’d just like it if she chose to share them with him. “I’ll see you at four then.”

  * * *

  MAL’S STOMACH TIGHTENED the moment she hung up the phone—as it had been doing lately whenever she thought about Travis. They needed to talk. Not just about why he’d chosen not to tell his family the truth about them, but about what was happening between them. Both now and before.

  She took a long, deep breath until her stomach no longer felt as if it was twisting in on itself. But it was only a temporary fix. The time to ask the tough questions and to deal with the answers was drawing near.

  Ten minutes befor
e she was due to leave, Mal headed out of the office and hailed a cab. She could have walked the twenty blocks from her office to meet Travis, but she was wearing a pair of stilettos that were more for show than use. Her statement shoes. Ones that said she was strong and powerful—the kind of woman who didn’t dance around questions and feelings, but one who handled them.

  Still, she took more than a few calming breaths during the short cab ride, and when the door to The Blue Mermaid flew open at her knock to reveal Travis looking handsomer than ever, she felt her mouth go dry.

  “You made it.” Travis smiled and the joy in his voice and on his face, tinged with a hint of surprise, made her step hitch. He looked good. Why did he always look so good? Even with his tan long faded, there was a glow about him that made her want to bask in his light.

  At least his tattoos were covered. Though knowing they were just out of sight, all badass and rebellious, somehow made them more appealing. And she was in on the secret. On the outside, Travis Kincaid was a smart, well-put-together businessman. But on the inside he was a renegade. Mal shivered.

  “Are you cold?” Travis was instantly solicitous, attentive to her every need whether she wanted him to be or not.

  “I’m fine.” But she tucked her hands into her coat pockets to hide the sudden shaking and forced a smile. “So, let’s see the place.” Hopefully the shaking wouldn’t migrate to her legs. If it did, she’d have to try and distract him with her shoes.

  “Sure.” But he didn’t move right away, just looked at her, as though he was drinking her in. Mal stopped shivering and started feeling too warm. Being around Travis was bad for her internal temperature. “Where should we start?”

  “Wherever you want.” She should break eye contact. She needed to break eye contact. She was falling into that silvery gaze, forgetting the issues that lingered between them, prevented them from truly moving forward.

  She saw the edges of his eyes soften, the confident upturn to his lips and the way he leaned forward into her space, taking up all her oxygen. “You know what I want, Mal.” He bent his head to kiss her.