“I’ll have the chicken strips with fries and a sweet tea.”
“You got it.” She winked in approval as she gathered our plastic-covered menus and headed behind the counter to call out our order to the cook behind the pick-up window.
It seemed that I had met her approval. This town had been nothing but welcoming to me, but I was very aware that I was an outsider. Even if I was “dating” one of their own. I mean, if what Tami Lynn said was true, then I couldn’t imagine being a favorite of many of the female residents in town.
“So how long have you and…” Tad waved his hand in front of him pretending not to remember Travis’ name.
“Travis,” Alexandria offered eagerly, practically purring his name.
Both Tad and I glanced her way and she shrugged unapologetically as she lifted the glass of water in front of her, brought the straw to her lips and sipped.
“Travis,” Tad said slowly as he turned back towards me, “been together?”
“Not long,” I answered vaguely.
“Do you think that getting into a relationship now is a good idea?” Tad had a special gift of making everything sound condescending. It was one of the things that had grated on my nerves when we were together and now that we weren’t, it was even more annoying. “I don’t want you to get so distracted that you blow this opportunity. If you do, I hope you know, another one won’t just be waiting for you around the corner.”
I took a deep breath through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. Tad was doing what he did best, trying to get under my skin. If I let him see that he was getting to me, then he would win.
“I’m not distracted and I’m taking this project very seriously.” Then, because apparently I had at least one petty bone in my body, I continued, “If anything, I feel like this new relationship is going to bring a fresh energy to the project.”
There was a flash of what looked like anger in his eyes, but then in true Tad fashion, he recovered quickly. He wrapped his arm around Alexandria and asked, “Where are you at with casting? Have you narrowed down our selects?”
Of course, he would bring up the one thing that I wasn’t ahead of schedule on.
Squaring my shoulders, I looked directly into his eyes and spoke confidently, “I will by tomorrow.”
“Sorry about that.” Travis joined us again and I noticed Alexandria’s face light up and Tad’s jaw tick. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife and everyone remained silent. Travis must’ve picked up on the strain because he scanned the table before asking, “What did I miss?”
“Well, Tad was just cautioning me on the importance of not blowing this opportunity but I assured him everything is going to be great.” I finished and Travis’ eyes sparked with amusement and, if I wasn’t mistaken, pride.
For some reason having Travis here inspired some confidence in me.
I glanced back at Tad, whose eyes weren’t filled with amusement and pride.
Travis grinned and I felt his support like a blanket wrapping around me.
Tami Lynn arrived with the food. After a few more questions about casting, Alexandria monopolized the conversation talking about the one topic she was an expert on, herself. She talked about many covers she’d graced in her modeling days and how she’d made Maxim’s Hot 100 twice. When I’d first met her I assumed her talent for turning every conversation around to herself was the same as Tad’s obnoxious habit to do the same thing. But after spending time with her, I realized that she was just used to people wanting to hear about her, nine times out of ten she was the center of attention in any room, and I think she thought that she was doing everyone a favor filling them in on her life. Honestly.
Tad did not have such altruistic intention. He did it because…I’m not sure why he did. My guess would be that he was insecure underneath all that ego. Whatever the reason, he talked about past projects and how “indispensable” he was to Spotlight Entertainment. There was a brief reprieve from listening to them talk about their accomplishments and how amazing they were when Alexandria asked Travis what he did. He explained that he was the operations manager at his family’s farm and he sometimes worked at Colton’s Ranch as well.
About halfway through the meal, Travis got another call and after taking it he came back and apologized, explaining that he had to leave to go deal with something. Since Trace was on his honeymoon, he was pulling double duty at both the farm and the ranch. I was surprised at just how disappointed I had been to see him go. My heart sank. The world just felt a little lighter, a little safer and a lot more fun when he was around.
Before he left, he must’ve paid the bill because when I tried to get the check Tami Lynn informed us that it had been taken care of. I’d never had anyone take care of me the way that Travis did. It was getting harder and harder to remember that this wasn’t real.
Chapter 7
Mia
“Genius has its limits. Stupidity knows no bounds.”
~ Walker Briggs
A pretty brunette lit up my computer screen and I crossed my fingers, toes, legs and eyes that she would have either a brain or a personality. Both would be amazing, but I was beginning to realize that reality shows about finding love didn’t seem to attract the cream of the crop.
“Hi, I’m Janessa. It’s like Vanessa but with a J. I have twelve thousand followers on Twitter and fifty thousand on Instagram.”
I paused the video and briefly considered banging my head against the wall. I’d been looking at auditions for the past three hours straight and if I heard one more girl lead with how many followers they had I might actually put my head through the wall.
Sure, I knew that in this day and age that was what people’s identities were tied to, but if someone turned a camera on me and asked me to tell them about myself there is no way that would be the first thing that came out of my mouth. Was there some unwritten rule that I wasn’t aware of that said that was the answer you were supposed to give? It had passed cliché two hours ago and I was starting to think there was a Stepford-Wife-like brainwashing going on.
Instead of smashing it into the drywall, I let my head fall into my hands and I let myself wade in the self-pity pool for just a moment. How in the world was I supposed to cast this show with dynamic, entertaining people if the most interesting and unique thing about these women was what letters they used to spell their names? Before Janessa, it was Kelli with an i and Sera with an e.
These were the finalists that had been vetted by Spotlight. Out of thousands of submissions they’d narrowed it down to forty. Forty girls who were essentially the same person with different hair and eye color.
Didn’t anyone read or volunteer? Did they have any interests that weren’t connected to their devices? Any talents that weren’t connected to their appearance? I wasn’t expecting brain surgeons or astrophysicists but where were these girls’ passions? Did no one have hobbies anymore?
If they weren’t talking about Twitter and Facebook it was Snapchat and YouTube and how many subscribers, likes and comments they had on their videos and pictures. If I was wearing my creator/showrunner hat, then I knew that I should care about those things. Followers meant that these girls had a built-in fan base that might translate to viewers. More viewers meant more advertisers, which meant more money. From a purely financial standpoint, Lola, who had 100,000 Instagram followers should be a shoe-in.
But for some reason I couldn’t pull the trigger. Colton agreed to do this show as a favor for me. He actually did pull strings so that I could direct it. Lola had nothing of substance to offer and from her short interview I gleaned she might have a drinking problem. Which had the showrunner arguing that she would be good television, but the human being in me shot that point down.
Lifting my head I saw that I still had twenty-five more submissions to go through. Which meant, half of the remaining applicants had to be cast worthy. From what I’d seen so far, that was not good odds.
Then something else caught my attention. The beautifu
l bouquet of flowers that were sitting in the glass now doubling as a vase on the counter. I wasn’t an expert in horticulture, but even to my untrained eye I could see that these particular blossoms were special. They were so unusual with so many vibrant colors. There were purple, red, orange and blue. All with different petals and blooms.
Before meeting Travis last night, I would have never believed that someone like him existed. He fell in the too-good-to-be true category. He was gorgeous, funny and smart. He was kind and generous. He agreed to be my fake boyfriend and played the part so well he deserved an Oscar. He’d definitely pissed off Tad without being a jerk. But what was really impressive was what he did that wasn’t for show. He opened doors, brought me flowers and took care of the bill at lunch.
Sure, it was all fake, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t sweet of him to do it. If he existed, then maybe, just maybe there were a dozen contestants to be cast in the remaining videos I had to review.
Shaking out my arms I let out a loud breath and rolled my head from side to side with renewed determination. I could do this. I just had to keep a positive attitude and keep looking. Who knows, maybe the next love of Colton’s life is just waiting for me to push play. The one thing I did know for sure was that I’d told Tad that casting would be finalized by tomorrow and I didn’t care what it took, it would be.
I’d just pushed play on the next video when there was a knock at the door.
“Great,” I murmured under my breath.
Tad had mentioned that he might “stop by” to look at tape tonight once Alexandria was “settled in.” Whatever that meant. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was eight. I’d declined dinner with them at six because I needed to work, but two hours was plenty of time for them to eat, come back to the motel and get settled.
Travis had also texted me to see what I was doing tonight. I figured he was trying to cash in that massage he was owed. That was an invitation I’d actually almost cried about having to turn down. I’d told him that tonight I was going to be deep in the casting cave and I’d text him tomorrow and let him know when I’d be available.
Getting to spend some alone time with Travis was almost tempting enough to play hooky. But there was no way I was going to blow this opportunity for a guy.
Even a guy as hot, hilarious and sweet as Travis Briggs.
The metal legs of the chair scraped against the linoleum in the small kitchenette as I stood. I paused for a second at the door and mentally braced myself before opening it. The key to getting through this week was that I had to remember to keep things professional and not take anything Tad said personally. He was a douchebag and if I let the little digs and undermining comments he constantly made get under my skin then I was going to be miserable for a very long time. Not to mention, I was ninety-nine point nine percent sure that the reason he acted like that was because he liked that he could get to me. No way did I want to give him the satisfaction of succeeding.
I forced myself to drop my shoulders that were near my ears from stress and put a smile on my face as I turned the knob and pulled the door open. “Hey, I was just goin…”
My words fell silent when I saw who was standing in front of me. Travis had changed into a button up shirt and was holding a plastic bag. He lifted it as he said, “I brought dinner, but if now’s a bad time I can go.”
“No!” The word flew out of my mouth with much more force than I meant it to, or that was even appropriate.
The smile that split on Travis’ face told me he noticed my enthusiasm. He tilted his head forward, “Can I come in?”
“Oh, yes. Of course!” I stepped to the side so that he could enter. As he passed the scent of sunshine and grass, the same one I’d that I’d noticed in the truck earlier, wafted past me. It was deliciously male and my eyes closed of their own accord as I inhaled deeply. Without planning to, I heard myself say, “Hmmm, smells good.”
At the sound of my voice, my eyes popped open in horror.
“I brought fried chicken.” Travis beamed as he held up the bag.
“Oh great!” I said brightly. “I’m starving!”
I was happy to pretend that I had been commenting on the food and not on the man that brought it. And I was starving. My dinner tonight had consisted of two sodas and a candy bar from the vending machine.
“Well, you’re in luck. This is Dolly Briggs’ famous fried chicken. She only makes it for very special occasions, like my dad’s birthday.”
“Oh, is it your dad’s birthday?” I crossed to the cabinets to grab two plates and some silverware.
“No.” Travis shook his head as he pulled out a tin of the most golden-brown, crispiest fried chicken I’d ever seen.
Saliva flooded my mouth. “Forget finger licking that looks mouthwatering.”
“You have no idea.” Travis took a big, comical bite.
I knew that he meant it to be teasing, but damn, seeing him tear into it was sexy. It looked primal, very caveman. Which were traits I’d never associated with being turn-ons, but Travis sure pulled it off. I was beginning to think everything he did was sexy.
After grabbing some paper towels, I sat down and saw that in addition to chicken, there were biscuits and green beans. It made me do a happy dance—on the inside that is. It was a real home-cooked meal. I hadn’t had a home-cooked meal since the last time I visited home two years ago.
“This is amazing. Thank you so much. I know I’m supposed to be cooking you meals but If you hadn’t stopped by my dinner would have consisted of a Snickers bar and Pepsi.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
It was probably just my imagination, but Travis’ voice held an extra growl in it as he said the word pleasure. Hearing the rough timbre in that one word caused a shock of tingles to burst low in my belly. It might be true that sticks and stones can break your bones and words can never hurt you but in this case words could definitely make you feel good. Very good.
We filled our plates. Passing food and utensils back and forth like we’d been doing this for years. It was comfortable and almost like a choreographed dance.
Lifting a drumstick to my mouth, I sank my teeth into it and a groan vibrated through my entire body. I closed my eyes as the juicy goodness filled my mouth. People always claim to have “Famous fill-in-the-blank” food, but this was the first time I’d ever tasted something that, in my opinion, deserved that title. If this chicken hadn’t won statewide or nationwide awards it would be a travesty.
I’d barely swallowed when I opened my eyes, “That is the best chicken I’ve ever taste—”
My vocal chords hit the e-brake when my gaze met Travis’. The untamed hunger in his eyes stopped me short and I was pretty sure his insatiable stare had nothing to do with the food in front of us. As I stared into his eyes my mouth began to water once again, but this time it also had nothing to do with the food in front of us.
Chapter 8
Travis
“Confidence is the feeling you have before you understand the situation.”
~ Walker Briggs
Oh shit.
I’m in big trouble.
Watching Mia have a food-gasm was just about the hottest damn thing I’d ever seen. As much as I enjoyed witnessing her experience the pleasure that was written all over her beautiful face, the soft sounds of appreciation that escaped her and the way her tongue licked the taste off of her lips inspired visions of her doing those same things while I was buried deep inside her body.
An X-rated movie of her gasping as I kissed her mouth, her neck, her breasts, her thighs, her sex and finally, of me sliding in and out of her as she lost herself in release was being projected in my mind’s eye like a drive-in theater. I hadn’t pushed play on the cinematic adventure; it had started all on its own. I shifted in the small wooden chair as my jeans grew tighter.
When she started talking about how good the food was, with her eyes closed and her lips glistening, my mind went to something else I wanted her to taste. Me. I don’t think I hid m
y inner thoughts that well because the moment her eyes opened and locked with mine her face grew flush with awareness. Then, without finishing her sentence, she looked back down at her food and continued eating.
So I did the same.
If this were any other girl, any other situation, I would have said something about what was going on between us. But I didn’t say anything. As we ate in silence I realized that I’d painted myself into quite a corner. I shouldn’t even be here.
I’d felt bad about skipping out halfway through lunch today and so I’d texted her to see what she was doing tonight because I’d wanted to make it up to her. She’d said she was busy and working all night so my plan had been to stop by, drop off some of my mama’s home cooking and be on my way.
That was it. Simple.
Leave her wanting more.
That had always been my motto and it had always worked for me in the past.
But the second that Mia opened the door, I knew there was no way I could just leave. There was so much that was different about this girl. I hadn’t been lying when I said that from the first moment I saw her no other girl existed. Or that if anything I was the one chasing her. The only problem with that was, this wasn’t real. I’d got my foot in the door being her “fake” boyfriend.
And transitioning to a real status did not seem like an option at the moment. She was obviously busy and the last thing I’d ever want to do was be in her way.
So, why in the hell was I here taking up her time? Why had I invited myself in? Why was I eating dinner with her instead of just dropping off food?
Taming Travis (Wishing Well, Texas Book 4) Page 6