Travis (Pelion Lake) by Mia Sheridan

I swallowed, sensing some form of breakthrough, but feeling the familiar hopelessness too. The feeling that meant I’d given up control, that I might fall—hard—and no one was going to be there to catch me when I did.

A light caught my eye and I tipped my head, watching as a shooting star moved swiftly across the darkening sky.

“Uncle Travis! We got peanut butter cups!” Charlie yelled, running toward me, his hand proudly outstretched, holding forth the candy. If I’d only heard his tone, and not his words, I’d have thought he was rushing forth with the keys to some magical kingdom.

“Let’s make the best s’mores ever!” Connor declared, right behind his brother.

“Ever?” I asked. “In the history of the world?”

“Ever! In the history of the world,” he confirmed, proving that he’d inherited his mother’s enthusiasm for pleasures of the palate.

Bree and Archer were only a few steps behind them, Bree holding Averie, Archer carrying the cooler and a paper bag.

“Sorry we took so long,” Bree said, huffing out a breath. “There was a catering emergency,” she said, drawing out the word in a way that told me the emergency was less than dire, but still needed to be addressed.

Next to me, the boys were busy skewering marshmallows, spilling graham crackers on the sand and generally making a holy mess. Per usual.

“It’s no problem,” I said, turning my attention back to Bree. “From what I hear, these s’mores are going to be amazing.”

She looked over, raising a brow. “And sandy,” she mouthed.

Archer intervened with the boys, rescuing most of the graham crackers and setting things up on a towel near the fire.

Bree sat down and Averie, her solemn eyes on my face, reached her arms out to me, as though she’d just recognized something different about me that she could trust. A feeling not unlike awe wound through me and I reached back, taking her from her mother and bringing her to my chest. I lowered my nose to her hair, inhaling her sweet, pure scent, tenderness rendering me mute. Averie tilted her head back, staring once again into my eyes, gathering the fabric of my uniform shirt in her small fist, claiming me as one of hers.

Finally.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX




Haven



I closed the door softly behind me, leaning against it for a moment as I collected myself. Outside, I heard Gage descend the steps and get into his car, the motor purring as he started it up and drove away, the soft crunch of gravel growing more and more faint until it faded completely.

A bird called out. There was a distant splash. And somewhere overhead, a pipe clanked in the wall. I’d already begun to learn the noises of this house. They’d somehow branded themselves on my heart and I was going to have to work to forget them, not to feel an internal piercing whenever I heard a floorboard squeak in some particular way that reminded me of the planks in the hall outside my bedroom door, or the way his footsteps sounded on the porch right before he opened the front door.

Right before he arrived home.

Oh, I’d made a mistake. I’d gotten attached, and now I would suffer for it.

But I hoped . . . God, I prayed there was still time to save myself the worst of what it might have been.

The date with Gage had helped. At first, I’d worried it wouldn’t, but it had. Gage’s smile had been beautiful. His car was beautiful. The restaurant he’d taken me to was beautiful, the food incredible, the twinkle lights strewn along the railing overlooking the lake romantic. Of course, Gage himself was kind. Sensitive. He’d seemed to know I was troubled and, while he hadn’t brought it up outright and made me feel uncomfortable, he’d done his best to make me laugh. And succeeded.

He really was perfect.

“You’re home early.”

I gasped, jumping, and bringing my hand to my chest as Travis exited the sitting room, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe. “God, you scared me.”

“Fun date?”

I swallowed, standing straight. “Yes. It was . . . perfect.”

“Naturally. Gage is perfect.”

I nodded. “He is. He’s perfect.” I suddenly felt breathless, shaky. Awful.

Travis raised one dark eyebrow, his expression carefully blank. He was gorgeous. And those eyes. Those damned eyes. How was I ever going to forget them? I looked away. “I’m leaving in the morning,” he said.

My gaze flew to his. “Leaving?”

“My house is officially cleaned up. No reason to stay.”

My heart dipped, squeezed. That’s good. Better. Easier. He watched me as I gave a slow nod.

“I thought I’d wait up and say goodbye. I’m glad I’m leaving on a good note. It seems like our plan worked. Hallelujah.” The last word came out slightly choked and I barely resisted going to him. He sounded vulnerable, hurt, and my heart constricted so tightly I feared it might stop beating.

It’s better this way. You know it is. “Yes,” I whispered. “Hallelujah.” I managed what felt like a weak smile. “My feelings for Gage might yet be returned.”

Travis let out a long breath, stepping toward me, seeming to have made some decision. “Haven.”

My heart slammed between my ribs. “Yes?” Don’t, please don’t.

He stopped a few feet away from me. “Have you considered that you really have no feelings for Gage and that’s why he’s safe?” He stepped closer and I caught his clean, masculine scent. “Have you considered that you’re using him to keep me emotionally at arm’s length because your feelings are for me and that terrifies you because when you leave Pelion, when you leave Maine, you’ll be facing yet another loss?” He stepped even closer and I turned my head as though by looking away, I could tune out his voice and what he was saying too. “You didn’t mean to involve your heart, I know. But you did. We both did. And one of us has to be brave and say it. One of us has to be the first to lay their heart on the line,” he finished, gaze beseeching.