Reserved

by Tracy Ewens

  “You joining me?” came right out of her mouth, and Travis could tell she was just as surprised as he was.

  “Yeah, be right back.”

  When he returned, Kenna closed her laptop and they sat eating in silence for a few beats.

  “So, sports. You come from a big, sort of huge, sports family.”

  He offered lunch to help, see if she needed to talk, and of course now she wanted to discuss his damn family again. What was it with her needing to know? Too late to change his mind now, so he unrolled his napkin and answered.

  “I do.”

  “That’s two words. You tend to do that when things get personal.”

  “Personal? Is that what this is?” Travis flashed her a halfhearted grin and took a bite out of his sandwich.

  “Is that the new grinder?” She was trying to change the subject, to make him comfortable so he’d open up. He’d played this game with women before, so he simply nodded.

  “Do you like what you do?” she asked.

  He was thrown by the random question, but it was an easy one. “Yes, I love what I do.”

  “Why?”

  He put the sandwich down. “What’s this about, Makenna?”

  “I’m just asking a question. We can talk about things, remember? You said that a while back. Or does that only apply to my . . . things?”

  “No. Fine. I played football all through high school. Football and baseball actually, but I was pretty useless at bat, so mainly football.”

  “That’s still impressive.”

  Travis laughed. “Yeah, well, I was recruited by USC for football, full ride, and then I blew out my knee senior year of high school before I even arrived on campus.”

  Kenna said nothing.

  “It was the weirdest thing. I knew I was going down. I was wide open for a sack, but I sort of tried to move and ended up twisting the crap out of my leading leg. I went down and my ACL was shot. By the time it healed completely, I was finished.”

  “Were you devastated?”

  “No. Best thing that ever happened to me. Sometimes I wonder if I subconsciously moved—if I knew. Training says if you’re going down, you let it happen, fall, and go with it. Stay loose. Why the hell did I move? I pushed off. I guess I’ll never know why, but once I got my knee back, I honestly didn’t care. My dad, my brothers, they all left me the hell alone. I was no longer a commodity for the McNulty name. It was freeing.”

  “Oh well, good.”

  “What was the question?” He tried to smile. “My job, cooking, right. I tried college through my sophomore year, but I wasn’t into it. So I left and went to work at a restaurant. I’d done busser and prep cook stuff in high school, but once I started cooking, I fell in love. The energy, the flow, I was hooked. I went to culinary school.”

  “Realized you were brilliant?” She grinned and continued eating her fries.

  “Something like that.”

  “Logan says you’re brilliant. Hey, so does Paige, and she’s a tough customer.”

  Travis laughed and when she joined him, all he heard was her laughter. It filled the room. He decided she didn’t do it enough.

  “I love what I do, so I’m always working at it. I think it’s like that with anything. Logan’s passionate about this place, about growing things fresh and being responsible. It’s who he is, so it’s easy. I mean, I guess it’s not easy, but it’s where he wants to be all the time. I’m that way when I’m in a kitchen. It’s all mine and yes, I guess it’s something I do well.”

  “Did your family support you?”

  It was such a simple question, but Travis found the pain of the answer caught in his throat, so he opted for silence.

  “Okay, well, having met them, I’m guessing they didn’t. That they stopped supporting you after you lost your knee?”

  Travis nodded. He never talked about this anymore.

  “Sorry, I ask a lot of questions.”

  Travis shook it off. “Do you like your job, Makenna?” It wasn’t exactly subtle, but he needed to move on.

  “I do. I get to use all those accounting classes, but I’m not stuck in an office. The restaurant is flexible; so is the farm. Flexible is a gift, especially with Paige.”

  “Long hours, though.”

  “I don’t mind working. I was raised on hard work, so it’s really all I know.”

  “Seems that way. Is it difficult being a single mom?”

  Kenna raised her eyebrows as she finished chewing. “Apparently I’m not the only one who knows how to ask the questions.”

  Travis took another bite of his sandwich.

  “I don’t like calling our life, my . . . situation, I guess is the right word, difficult. Life isn’t easy for anyone. My set of circumstances may be unique, but struggle touches everyone in some form or another, don’t you think?”

  “I do, but losing your husband when your daughter was only—what?”

  “Five weeks and three days.”

  “That seems like a pretty extreme situation to come back from.”

  Kenna glanced up at him and let out a steady breath. She was thinking about her answer and he found himself dying to know.

  “I suppose it is. Being a mom is challenging, single or not single. It’s about as far from accounting as I could have gone. There’s nothing but gray area, and there’s rarely a right or wrong answer. Some days I’m sure she’s going to win the Nobel Peace Prize and then the next day I convince myself she’ll become hooked on drugs or air dusters. There are lots of monsters under the mommy bed.”

  They both laughed.

  “I guess not having someone, a partner to bounce things off of, is tough,” Kenna continued. “All of the decisions are on me and each one moves me a little closer to the nuthouse. But, with all of that, being her mom is the most important thing I will ever do. I need to get it right.”

  Travis wasn’t sure he fully understood, not yet, but sitting there with her, he was certain she was what he liked to call an A-plus. Major effort, maximum return. She was brilliantly herself and watching her search his face with uncomfortable eyes, he realized she had absolutely no idea.

  Makenna knew he needed to start prepping for dinner, but there he was, as cool as if it were Sunday afternoon. He sat laughing with her and even when she asked him personal questions and tried to get him to run, he stayed. In the privacy of her favorite space, the whole thing felt a whole lot like a date, except if it were a date she probably would not have just flicked a chunk of dried mud off the side of her shoe.

  “So, rough morning and the dating’s not going well?”

  “I meant what I said, I’m done. I’m better off without it and I have plenty of things to keep me busy. I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, me too. I’m fine too.”

  “Oh yeah? Again, we’re just in sync, huh?” She rolled her eyes at the absurdity that they had anything in common. Travis nodded.

  “Did you have to chase a bunny around your backyard this morning and then listen to a lecture from your five-year-old about how we need to change out all of our lightbulbs to save the polar bears while you drove her to school?”

  The look on his face told her this was what he was waiting for from the moment he sat down. He wanted her to vent. Travis shook his head.

  “No? Did you forget your breakfast and, because you ran out of the shower and threw your jeans on when your daughter yelled that Popcorn was running away, did you forget to then go back in and put your underwear on? Did you realize you’d forgotten undergarments when you were sitting in the drop-off line sandwiched between the BMWs and the Range Rovers? Did you start your day feeling completely out of control?”

  “Well, I did realize I was dangerously low on toothpaste this morning. I need to get some more. Wait, so you’re commando today?”

  Kenna tilted her head and felt like they were standing on opposite sides of a canyon. She was beginning to wonder if there was anyone who could relate to her insanity. “I . . . that’s all you got out of what I
just said? All that happened before the teacher conference and you’re on my underwear?”

  Travis stood, walked around the table, and pulled her to her feet. “Makenna.”

  “What, no Ken today?” She looked up at him with bravery she wasn’t feeling.

  “No, no Ken.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her. She had no idea why—maybe it was the release of someone taking hold of her or the simple warmth of him—but she started to cry. It wasn’t a hysterical cry; she felt a shudder and a few tears sink into the cotton of his shirt.

  “You’re fine.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  He brought one hand to her face and wiped away her tears with his thumb. “Just remember to breathe, okay?”

  They were suspended, standing there in the rainbow light of the private dining room, surrounded by her collection of chairs, and she didn’t want to let go. In fact, for a second before she remembered it was Travis she was clinging to, she wanted him to pull her into his lap, make her pancakes, and share the Sunday paper. She wanted to drag him out into their backyard garden with his coffee cup so they could watch Paige chase Popcorn around. It smacked her in the chest and for a moment, she couldn’t possibly take his advice.

  “Breathing, right. I will try to remember that.” Kenna went to step back, but Travis brought both hands to her face, held her, and then kissed her forehead. Holy smokes! She saw the same Sunday morning right there on his face, too, but then it was gone and Travis reverted to his default—humor.

  “Now, I’ll let you get back to that laptop before I offer to help you find your panties.” With a smile that wasn’t helping her find breath, he turned to leave.

  She wasn’t sure if they would ever be in this same place again . . . if their guard or sarcasm would ever be this far down, so she needed to get one more thing out.

  “Why do you make lunch for Paige?”

  “I—I make her lunch because it started off just, and now it’s—I don’t know, I just do.” It was again a simple question and yet he couldn’t answer. His heart was pounding in his chest.

  “Is it like a pity thing and you don’t want to say that, so you’re tripping over your words?”

  “You think I make your daughter lunch out of pity?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. Maybe it’s ‘oh, poor single mom, always rushing around, clearly a train wreck in the dating world, let me help her out because I’m Mr. Smooth and nothing ruffles me.’”

  Travis smiled. She actually thought that’s why he could barely speak? That it had nothing to do with the fact that she was standing so close to him or that as each day went by, he wanted her more? It didn’t occur to her that she was sexy and beautiful or that her daughter’s lunch was sometimes the highlight of his day. All Kenna could see was that he was smooth and she was a pity case.

  “Mr. Smooth?” He stepped into her even though he already felt like he’d gone a couple rounds in the ring with Brick. “Nothing ruffles me?”

  Kenna huffed and put her hands on her hips. “See, right there, the way you slow everything down. You’re worse than the damn yoga teacher Sage made me try. I felt stupid and awkward around her too.”

  “You feel stupid and awkward around me?”

  “Stop it! Stop sexifying everything. Yes, I feel flustered and even more out of control than I normally do when you are around. I know that you have little or no responsibility, but it’s your energy, your flow.”

  He stepped closer and she stepped back. Of course she did.

  “Makenna.”

  “Are you mocking me right now with this prowling cat thing? Because I’m trying to keep myself together and I don’t need you mocking me. I’m simply asking why you make Paige’s lunch. A simple answer would work. Do you do simple answers?”

  He took two steps this time and unless she was going to step out onto the main floor, she had nowhere to go. They were inches from one another. He could smell her, feel her breath mix with his.

  “I get flustered,” he told her.

  “Oh, yeah. I bet. When does that ever ha—”

  He took her arms gently, pulled her in another inch or so, and held. Her lips were right there, and if he leaned in just a centimeter, he would finally know what Makenna Rye tasted like, the feel of her lips, whether she drove the kiss or rested on a moan. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? What if once he knew, he couldn’t stop? He let out a shuddering breath and went to ease her back, but then he thought about what Logan had said, thought that maybe it was time, time to go after something more than what he’d learned to settle for. Makenna almost looked scared, but then her eyes softened as if she understood something he hadn’t even said yet. She reached up, touched the side of his face, and he was a goner. She’d figured out why he made Paige’s lunch, why he teased her. She knew—it was right there in her eyes, her touch, and suddenly nothing else mattered. He’d figure everything else out later.

  “See? This is what I look like flustered,” he said softly, and then he kissed her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was so unexpected, she almost fell back, but he had her. His big warm arms tightened, and Kenna relaxed into a kiss she could never have dreamed up. She’d been prepared for heat. Honestly, there wasn’t a conscious female who wouldn’t notice the heat of Travis McNulty and wow, the man had a mouth. The heat was expected.

  What she hadn’t expected, what was currently liquefying her bones, was the tenderness. The way his fingers played with her hair and teased her face. The gentle caress of his lips or the slow dip of his tongue. She and Travis were famous for their banter, but this was more like a whisper. A soft, easy murmur. A sharing of feeling, not just lust. Kenna was lost in the tenderness. His flattened palm smoothed down her spine, and she felt like she was on one of those rides at the fair where the bottom dropped out. Her heart was in her throat just like that. She should have stopped, pulled away, but he was such a surprise that she didn’t want to move. Instead, she wanted to learn more, get a closer look.

  “I—I’m sorry about that.” He slowly pulled away and appeared to be searching her eyes.

  It was not possible that the man didn’t know the voltage of a kiss like that. Could he possibly need to check for impact?

  “Oh, don’t be, but just to be clear, what exactly was that?”

  “Huh, maybe I did it wrong.” He pulled her back in.

  “No, no, I’m pretty sure you did it right,” she said, laughing.

  Travis grinned, still holding her.

  “Where did that come from?”

  “I wanted to kiss you. You didn’t pull away or smack me, so I kissed you.”

  “Right, why?”

  “Now that’s a more complicated question.”

  “Sort of like the lunch box?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you’re not about complicated, right?”

  “Right. Well, maybe. What was the question again?”

  Makenna stepped back. She needed to get her head on straight because this was real. It wasn’t some dream or a date with some dog guy from online. This was Travis, her brother’s best friend, a guy she worked with. Oh crap, wasn’t she just saying she had enough to keep her busy? Okay, it was okay, she could fix this. “It was just a kiss.”

  “I’m not sure I’d call that just a kiss,” Travis said.

  Damn it, why did she keep saying things out loud? Was that one of the first signs of insanity? Maybe Paige could Google that for her when they got home. Paige . . . she needed to leave, now. Makenna grabbed her laptop, threw her purse over her shoulder, and quickly looked at her phone. “Listen, I was super weird today and I’m sorry. I’m sure you do this help-the-damsel-in-distress thing all the time and you were . . . being nice.”

  “Actually, I definitely do not do that all the time and nice? Are you telling me that was nice?”

  Kenna held her laptop to her chest, begging for something to magically transport her to her car. “No, it was, that kiss was, not nic
e. It was sort of the opposite, maybe like an explosion.”

  Travis smiled and she blushed. Damn it, some things never changed.

  “I have to go. I have to get Paige.”

  “Uh huh.” He was leaning up against the wall now, just leaning there like he was waiting in line. Probably waiting for the next unsuspecting basket case to come along with her weird-ass dream and—Oh brother. Leave, Kenna!

  “I have to go. Bye.” She didn’t wait for him to respond this time and walked as fast as she could without running. She must have looked like the seniors who power walked through her neighborhood every morning. Yes, that’s what she was doing, power walking away from Travis, that kiss, and a whole flood of feelings she didn’t have time to sort out.

  Travis knew he had a stupid grin on his face. He couldn’t help it. The kiss played in his mind. Even as he pummeled chicken breasts for the piccata dinner special, he couldn’t shake her. He’d known what he was doing; it hadn’t been just some rash rush of lust, although the rush had almost knocked him over. It was exactly what he’d told her: he wanted to kiss her and he did, but he wasn’t ready for the after. He happily fell into the kiss, but the flood of questions he saw in her eyes, her reaction . . . He knew how she was with something as simple as changing the lunch special. He should have known the questions would be there, but he fell into her and almost forgot his own damn name. She ran away so fast that he didn’t even have a chance to come up with answers, which was probably just as well—he didn’t have a clue what his next move should be.

  “You done with those?” Logan asked as Travis breaded the last cutlet and added it to the wax paper.

  “Yup.” He handed him the tray, caught his eyes, and smiled. Makenna’s eyes were similar to her brother’s, but where his were green and gold, hers were mostly green. Shit, he was standing in the kitchen waxing on about his best friend’s eyes like one of those poets in a flowing white shirt. If his father were there, there was no question he’d be called a pansy.

  “What’s up with you? Why are you staring at me?”

  Travis kept smiling but looked away. Everything felt different. It was sort of like being drunk, but without the stupid. It was more of a recharge as if everything was clear, almost raw.