Travis
I’m not sure what is going through her head, but I’d like to know. It’s deeper than that—I’m compelled to know. I can barely stand not being able to read her clearly. It’s crazy for me to be feeling like this, so when she makes a lame excuse about being embarrassed I let it slide. I know that if I try to push her before she is ready I may never get a chance to tell her how I feel. I can’t just blurt it out and frighten her.
I'm happy that she seems to recover from the awkward moment. She polishes off the last of her crepes and half of her toast before pushing the last two slices to me. She won’t be missing any more meals if I can do anything about it. When she places her silverware on her plate and cleans up the area around her she smiles at me, her golden eyes sparkling.
“Thank you for breakfast, Travis. It was amazing.” She rubs a hand over her belly and slides to the end of the booth. I stand up, offering my hand to pull her from the booth to stand beside me.
Dropping a couple bills on the table to cover our tab, I slide my arm over her shoulders, leading her outside. I'm finally bringing her home, and I never intend to have another day go by where she isn’t at my side.
Chapter Nine
Faye
After breakfast, we head over to my little apartment so I can pack up the rest of my things and say my see-you-laters to Chuck. I’m a bit nervous about moving in with Travis. I don’t know how to handle my feelings for him, but he insisted that he isn’t going to accept me staying anywhere else. Chuck seemed happy that I would be moving out and I know that I wasn’t supposed to over hear it, but he let Travis know that he would be checking up on me. Travis didn’t seem offended at all by the growled warning. He just smiled and clapped a heavy hand onto the older man’s shoulder. Guys confuse me.
I know that living in the same house as him is going to be a lot for me to get used to. We have already fallen into a familiar way of touching each other. As much as I enjoy his gentle touches and hugs, I don't want to read too much into them. I know he is relieved to have found me, but I don't want to assume that means he has anything other than brotherly feelings for me. Letting myself hope for more would most likely just set me up to be disappointed and that could make staying with him awkward.
Besides, how could he feel anything more for me? I was just a little kid the last time he saw me in person, and sort of his cousin if you take his uncle marrying my mom into account. Just because I fell head over heels in love with him does not mean he did the same in regard to me.
I have to keep reminding myself of this because I don't want to forget and do something foolish, like climb him like a little monkey the next time he hugs me. It’s a tempting idea. Believe me.
His house is super nice: a cute two-story house outside of town on a gravel road with only a few other houses on it. He points out Blake’s house as we pass it. I like that his closest neighbor is his best friend. I’m glad that he hasn’t been alone all these years like I have.
Of all things, a white picket fence surrounds his yard. There is a red ball in the yard, and my heart plummets into my stomach. Does he have a child? And if he does, that must mean he has a wife. I cast a sideways glance at where his hands rest on the steering wheel. No ring and no ring mark, but I knew that already. I would have noticed a wedding band.
I just know that I can't stay here if he has a wife!
There is no freaking way. She would take one look at me and know that I want her man, and I couldn’t bear to see him being affectionate with another woman. It would break my heart.
Ugh! I have to stop wanting him! Right. This. Second.
Travis opens the front door and ushers me inside, his large hand pressing against the small of my back as he calls out, “Honey, I'm home!”
Hot tears well up in my eyes and my nose burns from forcing them not to fall. I take a sliding step away from him, hugging my pillow tightly. My heart constricts in my chest as I try to make sure I’m far enough away that his wife won’t be upset.
“It's about damn time,” a male voice answers, startling me.
I feel like I know the voice, which makes me more confused until a huge wall of man comes stumping down the hall on crutches. A large black and tan dog trails behind him, tail wagging like crazy.
He looks at me warily. “Don't have that bat today, do ya?” he grumbles, gesturing at me with a crutch.
Recognition floods through me. “Oh no,” I gasp, “I left it in your SUV. I'm so sorry I hit you.”
The memory of how scared I was washes over me and the tears I had been holding back moments ago break loose and slide down my cheeks, splashing to the golden wood floor in big fat drops.
“Oh shit,” Blake mutters, looking over my head at Travis, an expression of shock on his face.
The pillow I’ve been clutching falls to the floor as I'm spun around and pulled into Travis’ embrace. I feel so bad about hurting Blake and so relieved to finally be with Travis that I start sobbing.
Again.
I'm not usually such a crybaby, but the last four years have been rough and so much has happened in the last couple days that I just can't help it. My emotions are bubbling right under the surface. I will feel stronger in no time, I'm sure, but for right now I'm going to lean on Travis and let his strength prop me up for a little while.
I hear him mutter something to Blake as he leads me up the stairs to a bedroom. He lowers me to sit on the edge of the bed and I take in the sparse furnishings. There is only the bed, a dresser with a couple framed photos and a beautiful Chesterfield chair upholstered in a dark grey fabric that looks like velvet. Dropping to his knees in front of me, he pulls my battered sneakers off my feet and places them on his hard thighs.
“You all right, Sweetpea?” he asks, his voice rough with concern. His hands engulf my feet while his thumbs massage the arches. The tenderness of his touch sets me off again.
I’m such a mess. Ashamed of my lack of control, I bury my face in my hands and continue weeping.
“I - I’m sorry,” I gasp out between quivering breaths. I wish I could stop. It’s total bullshit. I’m sure there is some psychological reason behind it, but I’m over it.
I am so consumed by my tears that I barely even notice when Travis stands up, tugging me with him as he pulls back the covers on the bed. The smell of clean cotton floats up. It’s a comforting smell that reminds me of him, and I lean against his chest.
Stepping away from me, he pulls my sweatshirt off over my head like I’m a child, shocking me out of my tears. I cover my barely covered breasts with my hands gasping with surprise. I didn't stop to put on a bra when I took off yesterday. His eyes widen briefly at the sight of my nipples outlined by the paper thin cotton of my tanktop.
“You need to rest, Pea,” he rumbles, tearing his eyes away from my breasts and walking to the dresser, pulling out a t-shirt. Keeping his eyes averted, he hands it to me. “Since you like wearing my clothes…” he says, flashing his dimples and nodding toward where he tossed my… his... old sweatshirt onto the floor. “Put this on and crawl into bed. I’m gonna take Blake back to his place, and when I get back we are gonna catch up.”
That sounds good to me and I bob my head in agreement, taking the shirt while trying not to let my boobs pop out from behind my arm. They are fairly small, so it doesn’t take too much effort, but a girl's gotta have some class.
“Okay. I am still pretty tired,” I tell him as I turn my back toward him and pull the soft cotton over my head.
It reaches my knees. As if he didn't already see me as a kid sister…
Oh well. I really am tired. Too many emotions in a short amount of time. I kick off my baggy jeans and crawl into bed like I was told. Feeling like a kid, I yawn and snuggle down into the soft pillows, pulling his scent into my lungs.
He is tucking me into his own bed, I realize, and I smile up at him as he pulls the covers over me.
It’s like a dream come true.
“Thanks for finding me, Travis,” I whisp
er, closing my eyes and letting the feeling of security surrounding me settle into my soul.
Travis
She starts dozing off almost as soon as I have her snuggled into my bed. She looks so damn cute curled up in my space. Her pale cheeks are blotchy from crying, making her freckles stand out against her milky skin even more.
If I have my way, she will never sleep anywhere else again.
She is so tiny she barely makes a lump under my fluffy comforter, and my heart squeezes as I think about how she has been surviving all this time, alone. Motioning to my dog Max, who followed us upstairs, I invite him into the room and point at the foot of the bed. Max is trained to guard and protect. After he settles on the mattress by her feet he looks to me for direction.
“Guard.” I tell him, pointing at my sleeping beauty.
Max focuses on her before settling himself into a relaxed but watchful position. I can leave her now without worry. If anyone but me approached her Max would do his job, and I know that he would die to protect her. Just like I would.
“Come on,” I say to Blake, motioning toward the door. “I left the truck in the driveway so you don't have to hop so far.”
He laughs a little, waving his middle finger at me as he pushes up out of my recliner.
“I didn’t mean to make her cry, man.” He states the obvious; I know he didn’t. Blake isn’t that kind of guy at all. If he was, we wouldn’t be friends. “I was thinking that teasing her about it might make it less awkward.”
“For you or for her?” I lift an eyebrow, and he knows I’m making fun of him for getting brought to the ground by the tiny woman in my bed.
“Fuck you, man.” He huffs and rolls his eyes as he puts on his jacket and follows me out to my truck. He levers himself into the high seat and pulls the crutches in beside him.
Getting behind the wheel, I back out of the driveway. “I’m going to reach out to the Cerelli family now that I have her with me.” I know that I’m going to have to do something, and going right to them and addressing the situation seems like the best possible plan.
“I think that is a good idea. You know the old man died about six months ago, right?”
“I didn’t.” His nod tips me off that he already knew that I didn’t.
“His son, Xavier left New York and turned the reins over to the old man’s brother. He brought some guys with him. Mafia soldiers, I suppose, but they seem to be family men for the most part. The intel I’ve come up with looks like he might be trying to go legit.”
Blake has been keeping tabs on the Cerelli’s since we found out about them. He’s the best at this kind of thing, a fucking genius, but since we didn’t know where Faye was I wasn’t too worried about them.
If Blake ever caught wind of them having a line on where she was, we would have made a move to head them off, and made sure that Faye stayed safe.
“I also heard that Xavier has a missing person he is trying to locate. A wife.”
This information really piques my interest. If we can find the missing wife, I might be able to use that information to bargain for Faye's continued safety. Xavier Cerelli, Sr., was the one behind the hit on Brad and Claire. At least, that was what the police thought.
He was also the one interested in “locating” Faye. We’ve never found any indication that anyone other than the elder Cerelli had any interest in finding her, and I will do everything in my power to make any threat to her obsolete. With the old man out of the way, that might be easier than anticipated.
“We should be able to work with that.”
He nods, silently agreeing as I pull in as close to his porch as I can.
“Need a hand?” I already know he’s going to turn me down, but I ask anyway. He’d offer to help me, and I’d turn him down too. That’s just the way we are.
“Nah. I’m good. Get back to your girl. She’s probably gonna be a bit shellshocked for a few days.” He closes the door and leans in the window. “Are you okay?” he asks me.
Nodding, I say with certainty, “Abso-fucking-lutely, brother.” We bump fists and, turning on his crutches, he makes his way to his front door before waving over his shoulder.
I drive the short distance home, happy to find that she is sound asleep when I go upstairs to check on her. The dark smudges under her eyes tell the tale of how little she actually sleeps. As much as I want to climb into the cozy nest of blankets with her, I stop myself.
Right now she needs to rest, and I have work to do.
I use the the quiet time to research Xavier Cerelli, Jr., and his missing wife. There isn’t much about him online, and virtually nothing about her. No social media accounts, which is strange for a young woman. There is basically nothing about her on public record. I find it interesting, but not surprising, that there is no official missing persons report on her. They had only been married for about a month when she disappeared.
It’s so weird that I make some calls to the few contacts I have in Vegas. They don't have much information for me either. Her name is Analise, and she is a couple years older than Faye. She has been missing for five months. It’s like she vanished into thin air. There are no rumors of foul play, and one of my sources said that her husband hasn’t been the same since she’s been gone. All things considered, it sounds like she most likely ran off or someone snatched her.
If he’s not been in good shape since she went missing then it most likely wasn’t his doing. I know how it feels to not know if someone you care for is safe or not, and I feel a swell of sympathy for the guy.
I do find a couple photos of her online, but nothing great. Old ones from her high school back in New York and that’s it. I can’t say I’m surprised. She is married to a mafia prince and moved west to be with him, at least that’s what it looks like. But if she relocated to be with him, why did she take off? There is no obvious answer…so I let it go for the moment.
With my work done, my thoughts return to Faye. Glancing at the clock on my phone, I realize I have been busy longer than I thought. It's time to wake her up and get her fed again. It’s been hours since she ate, and I really don’t want her missing meals if I can help it.
The sight that meets my eyes as I walk back into my bedroom is absolute perfection. My heart beats faster at the rightness of seeing her there. She is awake, leaning against the cushioned headboard with Max across her lap while she lazily strokes his fur.
“He's yours?” she asks, ruffling his ears. “I thought maybe he was Blake's.“
Happiness shines on her face. It looks good on her. “Nope, he's mine. Brought him back from Afghanistan with me.” She wraps her arms around his neck and snuggles her face into his fur. I hear her whispering sweet words to him. “He is such a good boy. I had to convince him to come cuddle with me.”
“He was watching over you while you slept. I'm surprised he left his post.” I chuckle, knowing I would leave mine for the chance to have her love on me like she is on my dog. I can’t blame him for wanting her sweetness showered on him. Part of me wants to move him out of the way and take his place so she can pet my hair with her delicate hands.
“You and Max should come downstairs so we can make something to eat.”
“Are you trying to fatten me up, Travis?” she says, giggling. It’s a sound I don’t think I will ever get enough of. Even when she was a child she didn’t laugh much.
Now, much like then, I hope to bring laughter to her life.
“Just a little bit,” I toss over my shoulder as I turn to head back down to the kitchen. “Help yourself to anything you need out of the dresser. Shorts or sweats. Socks, whatever.”
I don’t actually know what I have on hand to cook. It’s been a while since I ate anything at home but takeout. Becca keeps the fridge at the offices pretty well stocked with home cooked meals, so I don’t really have much need. I will take Faye grocery shopping tomorrow, but I don’t want to have to run to the store now. If nothing else, I can order a pizza.
A few minutes later I’m rumma
ging through the meager contents of my fridge when I hear Max’s claws clicking on the hardwood floor behind me. The soft padding of Faye’s feet follows immediately after. I glance up as she enters the brightly lit room and I can’t stop the laughter that bubbles up inside me.
“What?” she exclaims, rolling her eyes, full of sass. “You said to use whatever I needed...So. I. Did.” She spins around, showing off a pair of my socks pulled up to her knees and just a small strip of her skin showing between them and the hem of my tee shirt. If it wasn’t for the soft swell of her breasts pressing against the thin cotton she would almost look like a child playing dress up.
Almost… but not quite.
My eyes linger on them for a moment, even though my mind screams at me not to stare. My cock twitches against my thigh as I watch her nipples pebble under my heavy gaze. There is nothing childlike about that, and I force myself to look away, not wanting to scare her.
“We need to go shopping.” I can’t hide the roughness of my voice. I want her. She isn’t a child anymore and this teasing, flirty, adorable adult version of her challenges my resolve. I don’t want to wait. I want her to be mine NOW.
Chapter Ten
Faye
Rifling through his drawers looking for something to wear, I find something that I bet he didn’t intend for me to find.
Yes, I may have been snooping, but only just a little.
In the back of his dresser drawer, looking as tattered and well-read as mine do, is a bundle of letters from me. It looks like he still has every single one, even the ones I wrote with the help of a kind teacher during recess in elementary school.
There is also a pile of pictures. Photos from when I was a kid, some even from before my mom and I went to live with Brad. Some of them are framed, and I remember them being on the wall of my house before my dad died.
Finding Faye: Page 7