Rachel, Out of Office

by Christina Hovland

  “I screwed up my chance…twice.” He stilled and closed his eyes.

  “But did Dakota really make you happy?”

  He opened his eyes, seemed to study the vacant air before him. “Dakota gave me hope.”

  “Then I’m sorry you lost that.” Rachel fidgeted with her hands because she wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. She should probably reach out to him. But that didn’t feel right, either. “Hope is a good thing.”

  “I’m not sorry it’s over.” He yawned, closed his eyes again. “Because it shouldn’t take someone else to give me that hope. Not when I’ve got two of the best little miracles puking their hearts out with me.”

  “You’re going to be more actively involved with them?” That would not suck. Not at all. The boys needed this from Gavin.

  “Yeah.” He nodded, opening his eyes briefly again to stare at the boys with a total look of love. “I don’t want to miss any more.”

  That look he gave them made her heart do flips on their behalf. They had a good dad. He wanted good things for her. And that meant a lot.

  He was also wrong. She hadn’t built all of this. They’d done it as a team, and now they could both move forward, together as co-parents who wanted each other to be happy.

  Even if that happiness was with other people.

  “You need to get some sleep.” She moved to him, tucked him in like she’d done with the boys, and patted his arm.

  “Video games later,” he said before he did as she asked.

  She glanced at the boys. They were drifting off, closing their eyes even though they were clearly fighting to watch Netflix, to avoid sleep. Just like their dad.

  Gavin snuggled under the blanket she’d put over him earlier in the night. “I promise I’ll do better with them,” he added.

  “Good.” She said it to him, but mostly to herself.

  And, with that, she went to find Travis.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Never assume it’s chocolate, always sniff test.” — Angela, Queensland, Australia

  Rachel

  This was not how Rachel thought the trip would end. Granted, she wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this felt…this felt…defeated.

  “Evelyn.” Rachel jogged toward her ex-mother-in-law at the lounge where they waited in the small airport just outside Twin Lakes. There were no commercial flights here; this place was just for the corporate jets to come and go.

  They were at the airport because Evelyn had canceled the rest of the trip.

  Just like that.

  No big announcement, just, “We’re going home.”

  Everyone, even Bob, agreed this was the best idea.

  “Yes?” Evelyn said, crossing her ankles where she sat.

  “I…I just want to thank you for letting the boys and me come up this summer. They really had a good time. Despite…the ending.”

  Rachel still half expected Evelyn to pull a creative drama the likes of which would’ve made even Dakota jealous. So far, that hadn’t happened. Evelyn had not even mentioned her cat.

  “Why don’t you sit?” Evelyn patted the chair next to her.

  It did, early on, occur to Rachel that Evelyn didn’t want to continue to have her and Travis staying in the same house—even if Evelyn didn’t come right out and say it. And, as everyone recovered over the following days, Rachel had wondered how Evelyn would conspire to keep them apart.

  She’d expected something creative. So the cancellation of the rest of the summer did make sense. It was also very non-Evelyn.

  A little too on-the-nose.

  Rachel trailed her gaze to where Travis stood by the coffee and tea cart. Even though he swore his stomach was feeling 100 percent, he was still gulping peppermint tea like he owned stock in it.

  Which, he might. Rachel really didn’t know much about his investments.

  He pinched his lips in a thin line when she sat next to his mother.

  And that made Rachel’s stomach hurt.

  The guy was more than a touch grumpy that he wasn’t flying them home. Evelyn had called in a pilot—since it’d been only a few days and Travis, while recovered, was not in any condition to fly.

  Rachel was pondering the realization that she would’ve preferred he fly them home. Not some unnamed pilot she didn’t know.

  “I’m worried that you’re angry,” Rachel said finally.

  “Did you ever hear the story of my meemaw?” Evelyn asked. “The one who made the first toaster tart?”

  Rachel shook her head.

  “She loved to bake because it brought her family together. The kitchen was the heart of the family when I was growing up.”

  Rachel could relate to that.

  “Meemaw was the heart of the family.” Evelyn adjusted so she leaned closer to Rachel. “She never got to meet my boys, but she would’ve loved them. She would’ve loved my grandbabies, too. She would’ve wanted them to have a stable home with a mom and dad who put them first.”

  “Evelyn…”

  “Hear me out.” Evelyn looked between Gavin and Travis. Travis was scowling in their direction. Gavin was talking to Dave about something that animated his expression.

  “Evelyn, I’d like you to hear me out for a minute.” Rachel set aside her cup of coffee and faced Evelyn head on. “You love Bob. I’m certain that your meemaw loved her husband. Gavin and I never had that.”

  Evelyn pursed her lips.

  “We didn’t. We made a mistake one night, and he was stuck with me. We did our best, but it wasn’t the right thing. So we adjusted. That’s what you do in a family. You adjust. My family wouldn’t adjust to the idea that I had kids the way I did. They still haven’t. And you know what? It makes me sad, because they’re missing out on two of the best humans on the planet.” Her voice trembled a little, dammit. She stood, then she turned to Evelyn. “I’m not making threats, because that’s not how I work. But I have watched my boys lose one set of grandparents to what they thought was right, even when it was really, really wrong. I don’t want them to lose you and Bob, too, because I’m with the wrong son.”

  Evelyn didn’t say anything.

  She didn’t have to.

  “Just don’t do the wrong thing for the right reasons,” Rachel said as a parting shot.

  Then she went to Travis.

  “What did she say?” he asked as soon as she was in front of him.

  “I…” Rachel turned back to Evelyn, who was staring intently at the interaction between her son and Rachel. “I told her she needs to knock it off before my boys lose both sets of grandparents.”

  Travis drew her in for a hug. “Are you okay?”

  He smelled of spice and the mountains and…the man she loved.

  “I’m okay,” she said.

  How often over the years had she said those words, and they’d been half-truths said to make the other person feel better?

  She smiled against Travis’s shoulder because this time, she meant it. “I was hoping you might take Brady up in the single-engine? I mentioned it, and he really wants to.”

  Travis’s look of shock was nearly comical.

  “Will you come along?” he asked, recovering quickly.

  “No way in hell.” She shook her head.

  He draped his arm around her. “Small steps, sunshine.”

  …

  Travis

  Travis couldn’t kiss Rachel like he wanted to, not with the boys loaded in the SUV with the dogs. He stood outside the driver’s-side door with Rachel as the sun set over the Rockies. It cast a beautiful glow behind her.

  He wished he had a camera.

  They’d touched down at Centennial Airport in Englewood. The flight had been remarkably uneventful. He hadn’t been able to fly, but he got to sit with Rach. Even held her hand most of the flight.

&
nbsp; He had no idea what the hell had gone on between the two women. But whatever it was, his mama was straight-up confused. She now looked at the two of them like she didn’t want to wring both their necks and make chicken soup out of their souls.

  If he had to guess, Mama was softening toward the two of them like butter left out in the Tennessee sun.

  This, he figured, was a welcome improvement.

  Even the walk across the tarmac holding Rachel’s hand was not given one iota of side-eye.

  “I’m starving and there’s no food at home,” Rachel said, glancing inside the car to give Brady direction on the proper usage of a seat belt before turning her attention back to Travis. “I guess we’ll hit a drive-through on the way.”

  Molly and April had dropped April’s SUV off at the airport for her. They’d been ecstatic about the coming home early.

  He couldn’t blame them. He’d also grown fond of her company. More than fond. He couldn’t quite put a name on it, but he needed this woman.

  “Here.” He handed her a plastic container with his mama’s homemade tarts. “Don’t tell her I sent them with you.”

  “Thanks.” She took the container and stuffed it into her bag.

  “Do you want me to come by and help you find a toothbrush later?” he asked, because asking if he could stick his tongue down her pants was probably inappropriate.

  “Let me get the boys settled first.” Rachel glanced to the back seat of her car.

  “I can do that.”

  “Two boys, two dogs, suitcases, my purse, and keys.” She went through her checklist, then held the keys up. “Mr. Pretzel.”

  She didn’t know how cute she was when she did that. He hoped she never figured it out.

  The boys couldn’t have cared less that this was a huge step in their relationship—the going-public-in-front-of-everyone thing.

  Rachel said she and Gavin explained to the boys that she and Travis were in a relationship, and they could ask any questions they wanted.

  So far, their only question had been if Uncle Travis would bring them gummy bears to replenish the stash that Rachel tossed out before they left for the airport.

  Travis hadn’t been able to answer, because Rachel answered for him.

  He was fine with this, because he had a feeling no matter what he answered, somebody was going to be pissed off at him.

  “You promise you’ll call?” He gave her a sly smile.

  She rolled onto her toes and kissed his cheek. “Of course I promise.”

  “Bye, Rach.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “See you in a bit.”

  She gave him a little wave that he felt deep in his bones.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Never lie to your kids, there’s always some truth you can tell them at any age that they can either understand or handle.” — Lynda, New York, USA

  Travis

  Rachel didn’t call. Not like she said she would. And that stuck in his teeth like a broken toothpick.

  Travis had called her, but she didn’t pick up.

  She had finally texted him that the boys were having a hard time settling, so they’d need to rain check.

  He hadn’t wanted to rain check. He wanted time with Rachel.

  Gavin propped himself against the doorway of Travis’s office.

  Yes, Travis was in his office. He’d even gone to a meeting that morning to discuss his idea to sell mini toaster tarts to his CEO buddy at Integrated Airlines.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Gavin asked.

  No, Travis did not. He shook his head.

  “If you’d rather sit in here and stew alone, I can go talk to Dave instead.” Gavin started to move away from the door.

  Travis glared at his not-ringing cell phone. He and Gavin were going to have to have this conversation at some point. Might as well be now.

  “Sure, yeah, let’s talk.” Travis pushed his chair back from the desk, stood, and strode to the door. He closed it. Then back to the chair.

  He needed to get new art for the walls. His mother had picked out the pastel watercolors currently hanging. He’d never cared because he was never there.

  That was changing.

  He had ideas, and he was going to see them through.

  Mini-tarts was only the beginning.

  “You really care about her?” Gavin asked, like he didn’t really know if he believed it.

  Travis nodded. “I do.”

  “That’s good. I’m happy for you both.” Seriously? Huh. Who would’ve thought?

  “Hey, have you heard from her since we got back?” Travis asked.

  “I talked to the boys this morning. They didn’t say anything. Haven’t you talked to her?”

  “Not since the airport. I’ve been calling, but she hasn’t answered. I figured she needed some space.” Space sucked, and he’d keep calling. He hoped like hell his mama hadn’t done something to sabotage him, and he planned to stop by at lunch to ensure that had not happened.

  He’d meant it when they’d danced—he wouldn’t just let her walk out of his life, not until she told him that’s what she wanted.

  “I care a lot about Rachel,” Gavin said, clearly choosing his words carefully. He sat in the chair across from Travis’s desk.

  Of course, Gavin should care about the mother of his kids, but the words still stuck sideways in Travis’s craw.

  “I don’t love her, though, not like that,” Gavin continued. “I…I guess I screwed up her life and have always felt the responsibility for that.”

  Now, that got Travis’s attention. “You didn’t screw up her life.”

  “Trav.” Gavin dropped his elbows to his knees. “I can see the remnants of my mistakes with her all the way from California to Colorado. Those boys are the best things that ever happened to me, but I still managed to screw it up.”

  Gavin had been distant with Travis since the big reveal. Travis was pretty certain this was because the twins dug him, and Gavin felt threatened by it. Which was ridiculous because they adored their Uncle Trav, but they loved their dad. If he’d given them half the time of day that they deserved, then he’d see how much he meant to them.

  “They love you.”

  Gavin nodded. “I’m not going to continue that screw-up. I’m going to be there for them. They’re the priority.”

  “What changed?” Because this was a pretty big change.

  “I thought Rachel needed me to be absent. I thought she preferred to do things herself. It’s who she is, you know?” Gavin asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer. “The only thing I want is for her to be happy, the boys to be happy. I’d like a little bit of that for myself, but Dakota wasn’t that for me. I wasn’t it for her, either. We both held on to hope a little too long. I guess that’s one thing Rachel and I did get right—we stopped trying before we really hurt each other.”

  “You’re really not pissed we’re together?”

  Gavin gave a light shake of his head. “I’ll get pissed if you hurt her. She’s had enough of that in her life. She’s already lost most of her family. We’re her family now. I won’t let anyone—not even you—fuck that up for her.”

  Travis chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” Gavin asked.

  “I’ve just been rehearsing to say something similar to you.”

  “Then I guess we’re on the same page.” Gavin held his hand out to Travis.

  For the first time in a long time, they were on the same page.

  Travis shook his brother’s hand.

  Gavin went back to his office, and Travis tried Rachel again.

  Voicemail.

  Straight to voicemail.

  Dammit.

  “Rach,” he said into the receiver. “I’m starting to get really worried about you. Can you call me back? Even just send another
text. Let me know you’re okay. Okay?”

  He disconnected and stared out the window at the Denver skyline.

  The knock at the window beside his door had him turning.

  “I called the kids,” Gavin said, his words stone. “Brady said Rachel’s sick. She’s been throwing up all morning.”

  Sonofabitch. Travis should have known better than to give her time to readjust to Denver. Giving someone space meant they spent a whole day throwing up all by themselves.

  This is why a guy didn’t give the woman he cared for space.

  Travis grabbed his wallet and his keys and jogged to the bank of elevators before Gavin could say anything else. He made excellent time and was in his car and out of the parking lot, before Gavin even emerged from the glass revolving door painted like the latest variety of toaster tarts that led to the lobby of the building.

  Gavin, however, did catch up to him at the stop sign just outside the industrial park where the Puffle Yum factory was situated. He tailed Travis the entire way to Rachel’s house.

  Travis kept to the speed limit, but it took everything he had.

  Rachel was sick.

  That’s why Rachel hadn’t answered his calls.

  If Rachel was so sick she didn’t have her cell with her, then she was really ill.

  She couldn’t be really ill because she was Rachel.

  That made not a bit of sense, but there it was.

  He jogged up the stairs two at a time, then tried the door. Locked. Instead of pounding on the glass panes, he punched the code into the pad, and when the lock clicked, he pushed it open.

  “Rach?” he called, leaving the door wide open for his brother. “Brady? Kellan?”

  The living room was a wreck. Worse than the birthday party aftermath.

  He shoved his fingers through his hair.

  Shit. He’d never seen her living room this bad—throw pillows all over the floor. They had pulled the couch cushions off the sofas and lined them along the wall to make some kind of fort. Toys were everywhere. Literally, everywhere. The place was a minefield.

  There were even cups filled with unknown liquid on the coffee table.

  It looked like an eight-year-old version of a frat party.