Table for Two

by Jennifer Mckenzie

“I can be.” Travis straightened up.

  “You’d better be. Else you’ll be answering to the whole family.”

  Travis liked the sound of that. The whole family. All the Fords, big and small. And him, welcomed back to their warm embrace. With Mal.

  “Well? Are you going to sit back and watch her go or are you going to fight for her?”

  “I’m going to fight,” Travis answered without thinking as adrenaline surged through his body. But this might be it. The last chance he’d have, because if she left before he talked to her, there really would be no going back. He eyed Owen. “You aren’t planning to take another shot at me, are you?”

  “If you’ll recall, I didn’t take that shot. Even though you deserved it. But I can rectify that.” Owen grinned.

  Travis held up his hands in mock surrender. “No, I’m good.”

  “And don’t you forget it.” Owen resettled on the bar stool. “Now, back to my sister. She’s leaving tonight.”

  “You waited until now to tell me?” Maybe Owen wasn’t really interested in helping them get back together at all.

  “I had to figure out what was best for Mal,” Owen said.

  “Fair enough.” In an odd way, Travis was glad that Owen had given serious thought to the matter. It gave the information weight because Owen wouldn’t be here telling him this if he thought there was no chance of reconciliation. “So you’re saying I have a shot?”

  “If you don’t screw it up. What’s that old saying? Third time’s a charm.”

  “It will be.” It had to be. At least he’d give it his best shot. He dropped the rag and started around the bar.

  “Where are you going?” Owen asked.

  “I have to see Mal.”

  “I didn’t mean you should go now.”

  “She’s leaving tonight,” Travis called over his shoulder as he continued toward the door. “I don’t have time to waste.” He didn’t yet know what he would say, but he’d figure it out.

  “What about the bar?”

  “Here.” Travis stopped only long enough to toss him the keys. “Help yourself and lock up when you’re done.”

  “Are you paying me for this?”

  “Put it on my tab.”

  But when he reached the offices of the Ford Group and checked in with the receptionist, he discovered that meeting his destiny was going to take a little longer than expected.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Kincaid. Ms. Ford isn’t in the office.”

  Travis swallowed his irritation. It wasn’t the young woman’s fault that Mal wasn’t here. “When is she due back?” He’d wait. He’d already waited nearly two years, what was another few minutes—five, forty, sixty? He’d wait no matter how long.

  “I don’t believe she’s coming back today. Would you like me to let her know you stopped by?”

  “No.” He answered quickly. He wasn’t going to let a little thing like being at the wrong location stop him. “I’ll give her a call. Thank you.”

  He was halfway out the door with his phone already in hand, dialing Mal before he even finished speaking to the receptionist.

  “Hello, Travis.”

  “You can’t move.” It popped out before he had a chance to think about what to say. He bypassed the elevator for the stairs, feeling the need to keep in motion.

  “Who told you...never mind. It doesn’t matter. What I do isn’t your concern, remember?”

  “But what if I want it to be?”

  “Don’t make this harder.” Her words gave him hope. If she really was over him, then she wouldn’t care what he said.

  “I need to see you before you leave.”

  “I’m busy, Travis. I have to pack. I have meetings to prepare for. It’s not a good time.”

  “It’s the only time we’ve got.” He was out the door of the building and heading down the sidewalk now, dodging other pedestrians as he navigated his way toward Mal’s apartment. “Will you see me?”

  She took a breath, but didn’t say anything. For a moment, Travis feared her answer would be no. That she would refuse to even give him a minute of her time. A chill ran through him.

  “Fine. But you’ll have to make it quick. I’m due at the airport in an hour.”

  “I’ll be at your place in five.”

  He broke into a run as soon as he hung up and arrived at Mal’s place in three minutes. He was breathing hard when he punched in her buzzer number, but he figured that was more from the adrenaline than the exercise.

  When she answered, Travis wished he’d been faster.

  “Maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to come up.”

  “Then you come down.”

  “I have to pack.”

  “Then I’ll come up.” He sure wasn’t going to leave without saying his piece, without making it clear that he wanted to be with her, was willing to compromise and make concessions. Until Mal understood without a doubt that she meant everything to him—or until he knew for certain that there was no chance for them to be together.

  “Travis.”

  “Five minutes and then I’ll go, if that’s what you want.”

  Her sigh echoed through the intercom system. “Five minutes.” Uncertainty came through in her voice, but at least it wasn’t no.

  Travis realized he probably should figure out what he was going to say in his allotted five minutes. Something more convincing than “You can’t move.” But nothing came to him as he rode the elevator.

  Mal opened the door when he knocked, but she didn’t look happy to see him. “Five minutes,” she repeated.

  Travis nodded and followed her inside the apartment. “You can’t move.” So much for thinking up a more convincing argument.

  She didn’t budge from the entryway. No doubt to ensure he knew she was serious about her five minute time allowance. “As I’ve already told you, that’s not your concern.”

  “I want it to be.” He wanted everything that affected her to be his concern. Her sorrow, her joy, even her annoyance.

  “This isn’t your decision to make, Travis.”

  The words reverberated through the small space, striking a chord in him with their familiarity. They were nearly identical to the ones she’d spoken in Aruba. Only that time she’d been coming to Vancouver, not leaving it.

  A chill passed over the back of Travis’s neck. He didn’t want things to end the way they had then.

  “Then let’s talk. Tell me what’s in Calgary.” No recriminations or ultimatums this time.

  “An opportunity to expand the business.” Mal looked down and shrugged. “It would be good for the company.”

  Travis knew that was true, but would it be good for Mal? “So you’d live there.”

  “That is the plan.” She shrugged again. “There’s no reason not to go.”

  Travis could think of a few. “What about your life here? Your family?” His voice lowered. “What about us?”

  “There is no us, Travis.”

  “But there could be. If you stay.”

  Her head popped up, her eyes lit with the fire of temper. “No.” She shook her head, hair swinging back and forth in an angry wave. “You can’t ask me that. Not again.”

  He knew the mental connection she’d made, the conclusions she’d jumped to, because she’d also felt the cold finger of similarity between now and then. “It’s not the same this time,” he said. Because they were different and so were the situations. She wasn’t moving to be closer to her family who needed her, she was moving away from them.

  But Mal wasn’t listening. “They are. I have a reason to move and you’re trying to keep me from doing so.”

  Her words stopped Travis cold. Maybe she was right. Maybe the situations were closer than he wanted to admit. “Then I’ll move.”
<
br />   “What?” She blinked at him. “You can’t move.”

  “Of course, I can. What’s stopping me?” He was living in a hotel anyway.

  “You just opened your bar, you can’t move.”

  “I could sell it.”

  “I’m not letting you sell it.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Then I’ll find a way to run it from out of town.” Maybe he could split his time until the bar was established or he found someone to handle the daily duties of managing. With technology, it wasn’t as if he needed to be on site to do the paperwork.

  “You’re being ridiculous.” But she sounded awed rather than annoyed. “You can’t just pick up your life and move for me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because...” But she didn’t finish her sentence.

  Travis stepped forward and reached for her hand, slowly tugging it from the fold of her arms. It was a risk. She might jerk away or shake him off. She might point at the door and tell him to leave. He rubbed a thumb along the back of her fingers. “I love you, Mal. I want to make this work.”

  She looked down at their joined hands, then back at him. But she didn’t say anything.

  “Do you?” He had to ask, had to know, even though the answer had the potential to devastate him.

  Her eyes flicked back down to their hands. Travis felt a small tug, though she didn’t let go.

  “I think you love me,” he said. It was true. If he didn’t believe that, he wouldn’t be here. He’d let her go and wish her the best. But so long as he had that last shred of hope, he’d fight. “But if I’m wrong, tell me.” He gave her hand a small shake. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t and I’ll go.” Even though he still hadn’t used up his promised five minutes.

  Mal continued looking at their entwined fingers. The little shred of hope stayed right where it was, lodged beneath his heart, equal parts pleasure and pain.

  The silence stretched. Only the sound of their breathing filled the space until he couldn’t stand it another second. “Mal?”

  She swallowed. “Would you really move?”

  Relief punched him harder than Owen ever could, and he practically tripped over himself to answer. “I’ll go with you tonight.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary.” She pulled her hand away then. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  “I know.” He waited a breath. “What we have is worth it, Mal. You know that.” He knew he did.

  She nodded slowly. “I’ll only be gone a few days.” She looked into his eyes. “I’ll call you when I’m back.”

  “And then?” His breath felt trapped in his lungs.

  “Then we’ll talk.”

  * * *

  MAL TRIED TO concentrate on her packing. Clothing for the office and the generally hotter summer days in the prairie region. Her toiletries and makeup. Jewelry. Her hand stilled on the top of her jewelry box, even though it no longer contained the ring and earrings.

  He’d offered to move, to pack up his life and go with her. Eighteen months ago she’d have been overjoyed at the prospect. Would have helped him pack and insisted that he come sooner rather than later. But she was different. They were different.

  Could they really go back to the way things had been? A return to the life they’d once shared? Maybe it was too late for that. Mal didn’t know.

  She glanced at the clock, saw that her cab would be arriving in five minutes and started throwing things into her suitcase. It didn’t matter if she’d need it or not—if it was close at hand and it fit, in it went. Everything except the jewelry, because she couldn’t afford the distraction.

  She needed to be focused. This was a good opportunity for the family business and she couldn’t be sidetracked by her personal life. She had proposal notes to go over, budgets to review. She needed to be thinking big picture—location, cost, process. But her thoughts were filled with Travis. With his offer. With her own feelings about it and him.

  Her phone rang, alerting her that the cab would be at her door in less than a minute. She wheeled her overstuffed suitcase out of her apartment. A few days away would be good for her. She could think, figure things out.

  Except that when she got into the cab and the driver asked where she was going, she didn’t say, “Airport.” She gave him the address of Travis’s bar.

  “With a suitcase?” The cabbie looked at her in the rearview mirror.

  “There’s something I need to do.” Something she needed to say. And then she would leave.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  TRAVIS WAS SITTING behind his desk when his office door banged open. He started and then froze when he saw Mal in her slim pale gray skirt and simple ivory top, shimmering like an angel or a harbinger of destiny. She stepped inside, closed the door behind her and turned the lock.

  “Mal?” he asked when it seemed she wasn’t going to say anything. “What are you doing here?”

  It was too much to hope that she was here to tell him she’d considered his proposal and was going to accept. Way too much. Yet hope rose and fluttered in his chest anyway.

  She didn’t speak immediately, just leaned against the door, the pose showing off her long, sleek legs ending in sexy wine-colored heels. Well, if she didn’t want to talk, he was happy to look for the moment. Although it made him want to touch and he didn’t know if that would be permitted. He flexed his hands and then clasped them on his lap.

  “You asked me if I loved you.”

  His tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth.

  “And...”

  And? Travis tried to swallow, but he was still frozen, paused in the moment, waiting for her to continue.

  She took a deep breath. “I know we’ve made a mess of things. Me probably more than you, but—” her eyes flicked down and then back up “—something keeps pulling me back to you.”

  It was love, deep and true. But Travis didn’t say that.

  “I was hoping...no, I want to ask if we can start over.” He heard the shake in her voice, the tremor of her lips before she pressed them together. “I want to start over.”

  “Mal.” He heard the ache in his own voice. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  When she straightened up and began to walk toward him, hips swaying in that tight skirt, Travis nearly broke his own knuckles to keep from reaching out for her. But he needed to let her come to him for a change. Needed her to admit that he wasn’t alone here, that she felt the same way he did.

  She didn’t stop, coming around the desk so their knees bumped. She reached out and cupped his face, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs as she lifted his face to hers. “Me, too.”

  His pulse pounded and his ears rang, but there was no mistaking her words. His muscles kicked into action. “Say it, Mal.” He caught her wrists in his hand, kept her hands on him.

  She bent farther and brushed her lips against his. Travis swore he saw heaven. “I love you.”

  He swallowed, deciding the words, the conversation, everything could wait. Everything except him and Mal. He kissed her harder, and she sighed against his mouth, the sound like a homecoming, as she maneuvered herself between him and the desk, using it to brace herself so she could press closer to him.

  Travis’s fingers flexed again as he stroked down her arms and torso to settle on her hips, gripping harder, wanting to drag her against him, smother her with his love. It took all his strength, both mental and physical, to let her call the shots. To stay where he was while she set the pace, the intensity.

  She stroked his cheeks, his eyebrows, sideburns, the sides of his neck, his shoulders. As though she was memorizing every inch of him or relearning him. He felt the flutter of her fingers, her lips, slowly driving him insane, to a place he might never come back from. And he was okay with that.r />
  More than okay when she slid her fingers along the neck of his shirt, tracing his skin before dipping to undo the buttons. Travis had to plant his feet on the floor to ground himself while Mal slid each button free, her fingers dancing across each strip of skin she exposed. She slowed to open his shirt, to lean back and see what her talented hands had wrought before kissing him again.

  It was harder this time, hotter. Travis couldn’t stay seated. He rose to his full height, feeling her body slide against his as he pushed them both against the desk. He wanted to feel everything, to lose himself inside her, with her. And it seemed she wanted the same.

  Her hands roamed his chest, seemingly eager for more as she shoved at the shoulders, dislodging both his suit coat and dress shirt. Travis shrugged out of them, pleased when she looked at him long and slow before pulling him back against her.

  He was fully involved now, no longer able to let her dictate the entire event. He slid her shirt up and over her head, exposing her lacy black bra. He knew she’d have matching panties on under the skirt. She always did. And when his hands strayed to the side zipper and tugged down, Mal answered by unbuckling his belt and following suit with his zipper.

  Travis’s breath came harder now, as did his hope. Her skirt slithered to the floor and she stepped out of it to sit on his desk. He was pretty sure that he could die happy, right now, just like this. Was definitely sure when she smiled at him and leaned back on her hands, her beautiful body covered in the smallest scraps of pretty black lace that begged him to remove them.

  But he halted. It nearly did him in, but he stopped. “Mal, are you—”

  “I’m sure.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and reeled him in. “I’ve never been more sure.”

  Her bra scraped against his chest until Travis stripped it off. Her underwear followed mere moments later, as did his boxers. Travis leaned her back against the desk, marking her body with his own. Hands, mouths, tongues—all mingled together in a slow, sweet promise of love. A promise of forever.

  He lowered himself to his knees and felt her tense. He slowed, stroking the insides of her thighs as he spread them. “I love you, babe.”