Almost Mine (5 page)

Travis opened the car door and I turned away so he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the gift I’d left for him on the seat unless he wanted to. A colleague had once visited Belgium and brought back exquisite chocolates. My husband had loved them. I’d special ordered the box now sitting on the Malibu’s passenger seat. “Thanks,” Travis mumbled. He placed the box in the back. As I slid into the driver’s seat, he glanced over his shoulder, a wistful smile on his face. Recalling old memories, perhaps? Or wanting that chocolate?

I drove out of town, avoiding interstates and keeping to the scenic routes. Music from our shared past drifted from the radio’s speakers from what purported to be an oldies station. Twenty years wasn’t old.
I Swear
by All-4-One came on. Travis flipped the radio off. Ouch. Another one of our songs. Travis and me, slow dancing in the kitchen, his beautiful voice and my off-key warbling. Apparently he didn’t want the reminder.

After a time, I turned off the air conditioner and rolled down the windows. He huffed, but then a smile curled up the corners of his mouth. “Honeysuckles! I smell honeysuckles!” He relaxed after that, not holding himself so stiffly.

Okay, the first part of “Operation Simple Things in Life” apparently made a hit. Now for the second stage of my plan.

“The Omelet House?”

Okay, so I’d improvised. But traveling as much as we had made it hard to find a restaurant we hadn’t been to before—at least not together. “Give it a chance, okay?”

Despite the low-key feel of the eatery, I couldn’t complain about the quality of my Spanish omelet.

“That looks good.” Travis examined my meal from across the table.

A young couple sitting two tables down and feeding each other nibbles inspired me. If they could act like two giddy teenagers on a date, then Travis and I could too. “Here, have a bite.”

His eyes widened as I raised a forkful to his lips. Twenty years ago he wouldn’t have glanced around first, but twenty years ago we wouldn’t have been in a family diner, having breakfast for dinner. In the end he parted his lips and I slid the bite inside.

“Oh, that is good.” After a moment he glanced up slyly, raising his own fork. “Want to try my blueberry waffle?”

While normally I’d avoid that much flour covered with syrup, my waistline didn’t matter nearly as much as getting through to Travis. Our waitress smiled when she stopped to refill our water glasses. Later, she drew a heart on the bill before placing it on the table. I tipped her double the price of our meals.

We resumed our journey after dinner, stopping at a hotel with no hope in hell of ever seeing a five-star rating. I rushed into the office and returned with keys before my resolve to keep our evening simple crumbled to dust. “Our room’s around back. We can park on the side.”

“We’re staying here?”

“Sure, why not?” I’d never say aloud that our rented accommodations, complete with worn bedspreads and rummage sale artwork, seemed luxurious compared to his apartment.

While Travis fussed about the room, I dashed down the hall for a bucket of ice to chill the wine I’d brought. Hotel included, so far on this trip I’d spent less than dinner at Winston’s, and yet somehow, being with Travis, acting like ordinary people instead of those who normally left fifty dollar tips, seemed far more precious than rooms with lush mattresses and satin sheets. We’d escaped the city with its flashy nightlife and distractions, and I’d never been happier—though Travis could bring my whole world crashing down with the “D” word.

I stood in the doorway, dripping ice bucket in hand, and admired the view of my husband, yes, my husband, unpacking our suitcases and carefully lining socks up in one drawer, placing shirts in the next. My Travis. Good to see his meticulousness returned.

I loved this man, plain and simple. If he’d go with me, we’d jump any hurdle—together. Now to convince him to give us a chance.

“Oh. You brought wine.” He stopped his flitting about the room and sat down on one queen sized bed.

Trying to ignore his closeness taxed my nerves, with him sprawled out on one bed and me on the other. A few steps would put us in touching distance—and more. But I wouldn’t force anything he didn’t want to do; after all, he’d not forced me.

“I don’t recognize this vintage.” He eyed the bottle I poured from, filling two plastic cups I’d found in the bathroom. He sniffed, sipped, and laughed, a throaty sound that sent pleasurable tendrils up my spine.

“It’s non-alcoholic,” I replied. Anti-depressants and alcohol didn’t mix well, or even depression and alcohol, for that matter.

“In other words, it’s grape juice. Good grape juice, but grape juice.”

“You might call it that.”

We studied each other from across the room, sipping juice better than the finest wine, for the company alone. So much to say, but if I opened my mouth, would my crude attempt at conversation help or hurt our chances of winding up in one bed?

Outside our window children shrieked and splashed in the hotel pool, until a whistle blew.

“Sounds like they’re shutting the pool for the night,” Travis commented.

“Sounds like.” An idea was born, so bizarre, something neither of us in a million years would do. And yet… “Let’s go for a swim.”

“You heard me, the pool’s closed.”

I gave him a leering half-smile. “So it is.”

He met my smile and raised me a smirk. “Since when do you break the rules?”

“First time for everything.” For Travis? I’d break a whole lot more than a hotel’s pool curfew.

He seemed to consider my words, then pursed his lips. “I didn’t pack trunks.”

I gave him a wolfish grin and waggled my brows. “Neither did I. I plan to wear my boxers.” If one intends to break rules, break them with style, but I wasn’t quite willing to risk an indecent exposure citation by swimming in the nude. Not here, anyway.

He stayed perfectly still for a moment, then replied, “Well, I did promise you a night. But if we get caught, it’s all your fault.”

Travis undressed in the bathroom while I disrobed by the bed. We slipped out the side door, towels around our waists, giggling like two school kids as we scaled the fence and tumbled over the other side.

We stopped, and I strained to hear sounds of approaching security, though I didn’t spot any video cameras. “C’mon,” I urged, folding my towel around the room key and placing it on a lounge chair. “We might as well get in a swim before they make us leave.” My spectacular cannonball splashed water as far as the chairs huddled around the shallow end.

Travis’s thin boxers left little to the imagination. With a bit of struggle I managed to focus on his face and not let my eyes wander over his body. He’d picked up a few pounds but hadn’t yet reached his ideal weight. Still, he appeared much healthier than during our last encounter. He eased into the pool a little at a time. “The water’s cold!”

“Not if you just take the plunge.” I dogpaddled closer.

“You stay right there!” He backed up a step.

“Not going anywhere.” His pale skin glowed under the illumination of the adjacent parking lot lights. The ripples from my paddling shimmered around me. Travis took another step forward, and another. I longed to grab him and pull him in, but trust had been broken.

Time to start the healing. “I never cheated on you.”

“What?” Travis stopped, mid-motion.

“I didn’t cheat on you. I neglected you, left you alone, poured myself into my job a bit too much, but I never cheated on you.”

The air grew much colder. Oh shit. I’d said the wrong thing. Time stood still, Travis and I hovering over a precipice. “I know that—now,” he said. “But two years ago, every time your phone rang and you took off cut a little more of my heart out.”

Seeing his face, the pure misery there, nicked a few notches out of my heart too. “And whenever you tried to talk to me, I was unavailable.”

“Yeah. Elise told me you called her.”

“Yes.” I wouldn’t apologize for calling his sister. Without my intervention, Travis wouldn’t be here today. However, I would apologize for things that were my fault. “I didn’t know what you were going through. If I had…”

“It really hurt that you didn’t care enough to come running after me.”

“Like you’d hoped I would.” I shook my head at my own selfishness. “You have to understand. When I found you gone, I accepted that that’s what you wanted. Who was I to—?”

He held up his hand, cutting off my words, completing the thought for me. “You left me alone because if the roles had been reversed and you’d left me, that’s what you would’ve wanted me to do. But I’m not you, Ian. And you can’t apply your rules to my wants and needs.”

While I’d never know the depths of what that decision had cost him, a portion of his pain leaked into the words. “Instead, that was a last-ditch effort to get my attention.”

His whispered “Yes” barely reached my ears, as I’m sure my “I’m so sorry” barely reached his.

Here was the man I’d loved forever, had promised to always be there for, and when he’d hurt and needed me most, I’d let him down. Well, never again. I stood in the pool, water sluicing down my back, and took a step toward him. I’m not sure if he noticed the step he took backwards, but I sure did, and it became my turn to hurt, and pay the price for lost trust.
You can’t force trust; you have to earn it
, my counselor’s words echoed in my head.

The next step I took Travis held his ground, though the water surrounding his knees rippled and he gripped the pool railing. He sank into the pool up to his waist, still trembling.

Slowly I approached. If he turned and walked away, this time I
would
follow—through a wall of flame, if necessary. With all the patience normally reserved for more intricate legal cases, I eased closer to him. When at last we stood face to face, I held out my arms.

He dove into my embrace, releasing a cry as his head found my shoulder. The breath I’d been holding whooshed out of me, and I wrapped my trembling husband in my arms. “I’ve missed you.” Words alone couldn’t express the emptiness inside me with him out of my life.

“I missed you too.” He tightened his arms around me nearly to the point of pain.

I held him, afraid to let go. When I released him we’d likely have an awkward moment, but he’d opened the door a crack and I’d slipped through. There’d be no going back.

The man who shouted, “Hey! The pool’s closed, get out of there!” deserved a kiss, for he broke us apart without awkwardness. Once more we giggled, grabbed our towels, raced each other for the fence, and scrambled over. We didn’t stop laughing until we’d reached our room.

How long had it been since either of us had done any rule bending, let alone breaking? We’d become so rigid in our lives, each playing our parts so well, like actors in plays, that we’d lost our spontaneity. Time to get it back.

I slid a sopping card into the door slot, grinning like a loon. Travis grinned with me. After popping the door open I waved him in ahead of me. His wet boxers clung to his ass. After I closed the door we faced each other, water pooling at our feet.

“Travis,” I said, at the same moment he said, “Ian.”

Our gazes locked, then so did our bodies. I grabbed him as he grabbed me. Together we fell on the bed, limbs tangled. With chuckles, grunts, and plenty of curses we managed to wriggle out of our wet clothes. I lay half on him, half off.

Our eyes connected and all humor fled. Those green, green eyes had lured me in once upon a time, and had greeted me on so many mornings, love and lust shining from their depths. Over the years, I’d seen them crinkle at the corners with laughter, fill with tears during moments of sorrow, a droop sleepily after lovemaking. Now they welcomed me home. We closed the distance between our mouths, the kiss fleeting in the beginning, then growing more demanding.

Without conscious thought I maneuvered myself fully on him, catching his moan in my mouth. He bucked up against me, hard, and we instinctually fell into a rhythm established long ago. And this was so wrong.

I withdrew.

“What?” he barked, eyes wide and lips swollen from my kisses.

“We’re falling into old patterns. We’re doing as we’ve always done. Never again will I take you for granted or let habit stagnate us.” I stood and held out my hand. Although his lifted brow asked a question, he placed his hand in mine and stood beside me. Framing his face with my palms, I tilted his head and feathered my lips over his brows, his eyelids, and down the nose I’d always likened to a ski slope in teasing moments.

A gentle moan wafted out on his exhale, and even the fluttering of his breath across my skin excited me. Travis. Here. With me. With each kiss, lick, and nibble I made my case with more zeal than I’d ever shown in a courtroom. Losing wasn’t an option. Tonight I’d show him how much he meant, how much our family meant, and how hard I’d fight for us—as I should have two years ago. The past was gone, with no way to go back and right my wrongs. In the last few weeks I’d learned to accept my mistakes, admit my part in our separation, and focus my energies on the road ahead. With the future in mind, I’d plead with him the best way I knew how, by opening up my heart and holding nothing back.

The bitterly sweet moment brought tears to my eyes, and when next my mouth tasted his flesh, a tang of salt hit my tongue. My tears, on his skin. I licked them away.

“Are you crying?” Travis’s passion turned to alarm.

In all our years together, I’m not sure if he’d ever seen me cry. I’d either held my pain inside or crept off to weep alone, another way I’d deprived him of me. “I believe I am. But they’re good tears.” He didn’t appear convinced. I kissed his nose. “Trust me.”

Down his chest I worked, traveling familiar territory with new eyes, the salt of his skin and my tears mingling on my tongue. The mole on his hip became beautiful to me, a landmark. “I’ve always loved this mole. Did I ever tell you that?”

He snorted. “You love my mole?”

“I love every inch of you.” Oops. Had I said that aloud? Would he see my slip as an ultimatum, or pretty words meant to sway him?

He answered with fingers twined in my hair. “Love was never the problem. I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried. And believe me, I tried.”