He put his hand back on her leg and bent close a second time to nuzzle her neck. “I can be fast when I need to be. This won’t take long at all.”
The warmth of his breath, the damp scent of his hair, still wet from the shower, the just-shaved feel of his cheek against hers…they all conspired to make her weaken. And yearn. She really couldn’t get enough of him. “I still have to, um, call my dad…”
“Like I said. I’ll make this quick.” He went right to work, sliding his hand up into the cove of her thighs, cupping her over her jeans.
Sighing in surrender, she eased her thighs apart. “Not too quick.”
He unzipped her zipper, undid the snap. “Quick, but not too quick. Coming right up.”
“Oh, Travis…” She let him guide her back across the bed.
And for a little while, she forgot all about her mom and her stepdad and the Terrible Twins, about the wedding that was going to be upon them in a few too-short weeks. She forgot her fears and her doubts and her insecurities.
There was just the two of them, her and Travis, alone, making beautiful, perfect, just-right love.
Twenty minutes later, she called her dad.
Ted Jaworski’s response was laughter. Sam’s dad was six-foot-ten and barrel-chested. He had arms like tree trunks. And when he laughed it could make the floor shake. “Travis?” He sucked in a breath and laughed some more. “You’re marryin’ Travis?”
Sam gritted her teeth. “Yeah, Dad. And you and Keisha are invited.”
“That rich boy take advantage of my little girl?”
Sam loved her dad, but he could really annoy her without half trying. “Travis is not a boy. And I am not the least bit little.”
Ted gave another of those ground-shaking laughs. “You know what I told him when he first showed up and started sniffin’ around you.”
“Oh, come on, Dad. Travis is not some hound dog. He never sniffed around me. Never.”
“Maybe you didn’t think so. But a father notices that kind of thing—and anyway, you haven’t let me tell you what I told him.”
As if she wanted to know. “Dad—”
“I said, ‘Travis Bravo, you lay a hand on my little girl and I’ll take it off with a hacksaw.’” Ted laughed some more.
She waited for him to wind down a little before remarking, “You know, Dad, I could have gone my whole life without knowing that.”
“I don’t believe it. You and Travis. Gettin’ hitched. What do you know?”
“That’s right. Travis and I are getting married. The question is, are you and Keisha coming?”
“We wouldn’t miss it, baby girl. It’s out at that big Bravo spread down there in Texas, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Lots of open land. And in Texas, they don’t have all that many stupid laws against fireworks….”
“Dad. Listen. I mean it. No.”
“Did I ask you a question? I don’t think I asked you any question.”
“No fireworks, Dad. Do you hear me?”
If he did hear, he refused to admit it. “We’re comin’,” he announced. “With bells on. You count on it, baby. I’ll be there to give my little girl away.”
Sam found her dress that day. It was snow-white satin, with a halter top that bared most of her back. She also chose the flowers she wanted in her bouquet, in blue and purple, with touches of white. She and Aleta agreed her colors were purple and blue, with silver and white for accents.
“Perfect for a holiday wedding,” Aleta declared.
Sam’s head was spinning by the time they got to the bakery. There were as many options when it came to a cake as there were for wedding dresses and bridal bouquets. She met with the bakery’s wedding consultant and couldn’t decide.
Which was fine, as it turned out, because Travis was supposed to get input on the cake. The cake lady suggested that Sam and her groom return to the bakery on Monday and make their choice.
Monday. The make-believe week of playing Travis’s bride was supposed to be over Sunday. Travis had planned to return to Houston. Sam had a plane ticket for San Diego.
But then make-believe had somehow become reality.
She turned numbly to Aleta, who sat beside her. “We’re supposed to leave Sunday….”
Aleta gave her a fond smile. “It’s all workable, don’t worry.” She told the cake lady, “We’ll call you early in the week and get everything settled.”
“It’s simple,” Travis said that night when they were alone in their rooms. “I’ll stay an extra day. I’ll go to Houston on Tuesday. Worst case, I’ll need up to a couple of weeks to wrap things up with STOI.”
They were sitting on the bed together. She dropped back across the mattress, face up. “So you’re doing it? Going to work for BravoCorp?”
He stretched out on his side next to her. “Yeah. Is that okay with you?”
“Of course.” She stared past him, at the milk-glass ceiling fixture mounted on a plaster medallion above. “If it’s what you really want.”
“It is.” He sounded absolutely certain.
She could use a little more of that, of certainty—not about Travis. She had no doubt that he was the one for her. But about everything else, she wasn’t so sure. All day, as she shopped for her wedding dress and chose her bouquet and listened to the cake lady go on about ganache and fondant and raspberry fillings, she’d felt kind of wispy and fragile, two words she’d never before even considered in connection with herself. She asked in a voice that sounded distant to her own ears, “So we’ll be looking for a house in San Antonio?”
He touched her shoulder. “Sam, are you okay?”
She turned her head toward him, gave him a smile that only wobbled a little. “So much is happening. I’m a little dazed, I guess. I’ve still got my ticket to San Diego for Sunday.”
Sunday, when it was all supposed to have been over. When her sweet fantasy of loving Travis—of having him want to spend his life with her—would be only a memory. When her magic carriage turned into a pumpkin and her ball gown into rags.
Except now, it wasn’t going to be over. Now, she really was Travis’s true love.
And they were getting married in two and a half weeks.
“Cancel it,” he said.
She blinked, refocused on his dear face. The plane ticket. They were talking about her flight to California. “Guess I’ll have to.” She folded her hands on her stomach.
He rested his hand on hers. “You can stay here for as long as you and Mom need to do all the wedding stuff. Then you can fly to Houston, stay with me at the town house. We should be back here by a week before the wedding, I’m hoping. As soon as we get here, we can start looking for a house.”
She thought of her place in San Diego, her own private retreat from the world. Would he ask her to give that up? He just might. She had to be ready for that.
The wispy, fragile feelings faded. She was instantly stronger, more like her old self.
No. Not a chance.
She wouldn’t give up her San Diego apartment. No way. “I want to keep my condo in San Diego.”
He bent close, kissed her. “No problem.” He said it easily, without the least hesitation.
Well, good. That wouldn’t be an issue, then. And the more she thought about San Diego, the more she wished she could steal a little time there—to get her bearings. To decompress. “In fact, maybe I’ll fly to California while you’re in Houston. I can spend a couple of days packing up the things I want to bring with me to our new house here.” Yeah, it was a great idea. She could catch her breath there for a day or two, get a break from the big rush to the altar.
His eyes held hers.
And she knew then. Absolutely.
He was going to try to stop her from going to her place. And she wasn’t allowing that. She couldn’t allow that.
And that meant they were going to end up arguing.
He said, “Every night you’re not in my bed is one night too many away from you.”
Oh, yeah. She knew what he would say next. He was going to tell her that he wanted her to come straight to Houston, that he wanted her with him, not off on the beach in California.
Sam braced herself to make a stand.
Chapter Twelve
And then Travis said, “But sure. Fly to San Diego. Pack up what you want to bring. Ship it here and store it, or have it shipped once we get our house.”
She gulped. She couldn’t believe it. She’d been ready for a fight. And there wasn’t going to be one—not about this anyway. “Uh. Sure. All right. I’ll do that.”
His eyes were gleaming. He seemed so happy, making plans—for their future. “And I thought we could save the honeymoon until after the holidays. Then maybe we’ll go someplace in January or February, someplace tropical, with blue lagoons and palm trees….”
That did sound kind of nice. But where was the catch?
Wait a minute.
Maybe there was no catch. Maybe she ought to stop looking for problems where there really weren’t any.
“I would like that,” she said, meaning it. And then, well, why hold back? They needed to revisit the issue of her career plans. Now was as good a time as any. “I’m thinking I can take online courses over the winter. And in the spring, I’ll see about getting into the college of business at UT San Antonio for the fall semester.”
He bent close again. “Still determined to get that degree and become an accountant, huh?”
She looked at him levelly, though her heart had kicked into overdrive as her adrenaline was suddenly surging. “Yes, I am. Any objections?”
“Hell, no. You’ve got a dream and you have a right to make it real.”
She tried not to stare openmouthed as the surge faded off, leaving her feeling slightly hollow and more than a little ashamed of jumping to yet another conclusion.
She reached up, touched his beloved face, dared to ask, “What about how I need to get pregnant and stay home where you can protect me?”
He gave her a wry grin. “Well, I thought about that. And I decided you were right. About all of it. I hate that I can’t protect you from anything that might ever happen to you. But that’s how it is. What I can do is everything in my power to see that you’re happy. I want you to have what you want—everything you want.”
She searched his face, hardly able to believe that he had come so far on this big issue—so far and so fast. She should probably quit while she was ahead. But then she heard herself asking, “And a baby…?”
He kissed her nose. “I rethought that a little, too. I was thinking, if we could start trying in, say, a year? That would give us some time just for us.”
“Oh, Travis…” She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and brought him closer to her. “A year would be workable. I could go for a year.”
He looked pretty pleased with himself. “See? I can take a hint.”
“You can. And you did. You amaze me sometimes.”
“Good. A man needs to be amazing. At least now and then.”
She laughed and then she kissed him. And then she whispered, “Time for us. We need that.”
“Yeah, we do.” He kissed her cheek, her nose again, the other cheek.
She bit her lower lip, as the enormity of it all flooded over her again. “And even given that we’re waiting a year before we start trying, well…a baby. And a college degree. And a new career. It’s a lot.”
“I would help.” He kissed the space between her brows. “And with me working for BravoCorp, the money will be no issue. We can hire quality childcare to give you a break, and someone dependable to cook and clean.”
“When you put it like that, it all seems possible.”
“It is possible, Sam. With you and me, together, there’s nothing we can’t do.”
Monday, as planned, they went to the bakery and chose a dark chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and mocha buttercream filling. The icing would be white buttercream with pearled borders. Real orchids, purple ones, would cover the top layer and cascade down over the two lower tiers.
Tuesday morning early, she drove him to the airport and he caught a flight to Houston. He left his Cadillac for her to use.
Travis called that night. They talked for hours. And when they finally said goodbye, the silence that followed left her yearning and empty and longing to call him all over again, just to hear his voice.
That made her feel weak and needy, which were two things Sam Jaworski was not and had never been. Until now.
He wasn’t all that far away and they’d be back together soon.
Still, she missed him. So much.
It was scary, really. To feel that way. To ache all over just for a certain man’s tender touch. For the sound of his voice, the brush of his lips against hers.
She’d spent a lot of her life wishing she might feel just this way. And now that she did, well, it was magic.
And it was awful, too. Fearsome and huge and more than she’d bargained for.
She slept in the bed in the blue room where they’d spent most of their nights during Thanksgiving week. It made her feel closer to him.
He called Wednesday night, too. He said it looked like he would be back in San Antonio by the middle of the following week. STOI was sorry to see him go. They’d even offered a nice promotion and a generous raise and benefits package if he would stay on. He’d thanked them and turned them down. And since the Deepwater Venture project had wrapped up, he was at an ending point anyway. It wasn’t all that complicated to wind things down.
He asked how all the wedding preparations were going.
Sam laughed. “Your mother’s a marvel.”
“So I’m guessing that means it’s going well?”
“Better than well. There’s really nothing for me to do.”
A silence on the line, then, “You okay with that?”
She laughed. “Are you kidding? I’m thrilled with that.”
“Well, if you feel like she’s taking over…”
“No way. Your mom’s not like that.”
He grunted, a disbelieving sound. “Come on, she does have a bossy side. You know she does.”
“Not with me. With me, she’s…” Her throat locked up and her eyes got misty. Sheesh. She was getting to be a frickin’ emotional disaster lately, she truly was.
“Sam? Still there?”
She made herself answer around the lump in her throat. “Right here.”
“You all right? You seem kind of—”
“I’m great.” She said it with feeling—maybe more feeling than necessary. “And I love your mom. She’s the best. Don’t you say a word against her or you’ll be answering to me.”
“Whoa. Next you’ll be saying how you can take me.”
“Yeah, well.” She put on her best macho bluster. “You know I can.”
He chuckled then. It was a very sexy sound. “Anytime. I’ll be looking forward to it.”
“You’re so easy.”
“Only for you.”
She suggested, “And listen, on the night before the wedding?”
“What about it?”
Her cheeks felt too warm. She knew she was blushing, which was silly. “I was thinking we could sleep in separate rooms. You know, be a little bit traditional. Is that dumb, do you think?”
“However you want it, Sam. That’s how it’ll be.”
“Well, I want that, for you not to see me on our wedding day until I walk down the aisle to you. I don’t know why I want it exactly. But I do.”
“You got it.”
They talked some more, about the wedding, about the house they would be looking for, about how soon they would be together again.
After she hung up, she had that too-familiar burning need. To call him back. To hear his voice…
Really. What she needed was to get a grip.
Her mom called on Thursday. Yes, she and Walt and the twins would love to stay at the ranch for the wedding. “We don’t mind roughing it a bit
for your big day.”
Sam laughed. “Well, don’t worry, Mom. You won’t have to rough it at all. The ranch house is more of a mansion really. It’s surrounded by beautiful gardens. There’s a big pool with a fountain and wading pool and spa. And there are tennis courts…”
“Oh. Well.” Her mom sounded stunned. “All right, then. It sounds very nice. We’ll arrive on Friday morning, stay over for the wedding Saturday afternoon. And return home Sunday afternoon.”
“I’ll tell Mercy. She’ll be pleased.”
“And honestly. I should do something, Samantha. I want to help out. After all, I am the mother of the bride.”
“Mom. It’s fine. You don’t have to. It’s a very small wedding and Aleta—Travis’s mom—she’s taking care of everything.”
There was a silence, followed by a small, pitiful sniffling sound.
Oh, no. “Mom? Mom, are you crying?”
Her mother sobbed outright. “I never thought you would get married. Not to a man anyway. I never even thought you liked men….”
Terrific. A sexual orientation talk with the mother she hardly knew. Not. Going. To. Happen. “Mom. Come on, Mom, don’t cry…”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” There was more sobbing. The sobs had that scary sound. The sound that said she was never going to stop.
“Mom. Hey. It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
“We never did get along. I never…understood you.” Her mother hiccupped and then sobbed again. “Hold on, I need a tissue….”
“Mom. Really. We don’t need to…” She heard a delicate, distant honking sound. Her mother blowing her nose.
And then she was back on the line again. “You’re so…big, Samantha.” A tight sob. Another honk at the tissue. “You’re just like your father. Big and strong and loud and overbearing. You always make me feel so small. So…insignificant.”
“Uh, well. Gee, thanks.”
Her mother let out a small, sad little wail. “Oh, now I’ve gone and put my foot in it. Now you’ll hate me even more than ever.”
A Bravo Homecoming Page 15