Stronger By Your Side (Great Love Book 2) (2 page)

I looked around the tiny, one-bedroom apartment above the
Jitter Bug Coffee House
. It wasn’t much, but hey—it was rent-free. I would have to go down every night after Charlotte was asleep and play janitor, but that was fine by me. By saving on rent, I could afford to get all new furniture, which was awesome since I left most of ours in North Carolina. Charlotte ran around the apartment, screaming with excitement, hands in the air and a smile in place. I laughed at her silly charade and then decided to join her.

In the middle of my ridiculous parade through the living room, the door opened and my head swung around to glare into big, hazel eyes. Big, hazel eyes of the very last person I wanted to see right now. I was already frustrated that he showed up this morning and that I had to be stuck by his side until after the Bronco was fixed. Now he was standing in my new home, making me feel protective of my new-found freedom from his watchful eye. Travis stood there with a wide smile on his face and his hands on his hips.

“Don’t let me interrupt the fun.” He ran over to Charlotte and threw her over his shoulder.

She squealed in delight and started hitting his back with her little fists. “Uncky Travey, you put me dow!”

He ignored her giggling and yelling and walked over to me with a more serious face. “Just checking to make sure you’re all settled.’ He looked around the empty apartment and made an unpleasant face.

“Yup,” I said bluntly.

He sighed. “Meg, I don’t like you two living here, and are you seriously still mad at me?”

I glared at him. “I don’t care what you like, and yup.” I turned my back on him and went to the kitchen. I pretended like he wasn’t there and began putting away my one box of kitchen supplies. Travis groaned and set Charlotte down next to her pile of dolls.

She clapped her hands and picked up Cinderella. “Rella, Rella, Rella, you so pretty, princess.” She spun around as she sang.

Travis placed both his hands on the counter and looked up at me, his eyes heavy and his voice raw. “You kissed me too, Meg.”

My eyes shot up to his. At first I was going to protest, but I didn’t feel like lying. I sighed. “Yes, I guess I did, but that’s not what I’m mad about . . . ” I looked over at a very distracted Charlotte and then back to him as I whispered, “Ass hat.”

He threw his head back. “Ugh. That word again, Meg? What are you mad at me about, then?”

I laughed. “Um, let’s see . . . you never leave me alone, Trav. It’s like I’m your prisoner, and you know what? If I thought you kissed me because you liked me, I wouldn’t care, and maybe . . . maybe I would have liked it.” I looked down at the counter because I couldn’t bear to look at him after I just admitted that. My voice grew quiet. “But I know you didn’t kiss me because you have feelings for me. It’s like you kissed me because you felt like you were supposed to. I could feel it.” I slowly looked up.

His face looked hurt, and then he walked around the counter and stopped in front of me. “First of all, you’re mad about the kiss.”

I shrugged my shoulders and threw the dish rag on the counter. “Okay, fine. Yes, maybe a little.”

He tilted his head. “Secondly, you didn’t enjoy the kiss?”

I sighed. “It was a nice kiss, Trav. But you didn’t mean it.” He ran his hand down his face and blew out a breath. I tried not to sound hurt, but my voice came out a little raspier than I wanted. “You don’t have feelings for me, do you?” I didn’t have feelings for him either, so I don’t know why I was nervous for his response or why I sounded so desperate when I asked.

Travis’s voice was low and rough. “Megan, I like you. You’re a great girl. It’s just that there is no . . . ”

I nodded my head in agreement. “Zing,” I said, and he laughed lightly.

“Yeah . . . It’s not like you and Charlie. How am I ever supposed to compete with that kind of love, Meg?” He looked right into my soul as his hands lightly grabbed mine. I braced myself for what I hoped would come—nope, no zing, no tingle. “I don’t think I will ever love someone as much as he loved you.”

And that was my problem right there: Charles. He was the love of my life . . . but then again, I knew that I had loved one man—more like a boy—before him, so is it possible to have two loves?

I looked up from our hands, back to his eyes. “Is it me, do you think?”

Laughter rolled through Travis as he tucked me into his chest and under his chin. Charlotte came running into the kitchen, screaming God knows what, and then ran back into the front room. Travis rubbed my back up and down and then, with a serious tone said, “You are definitely not the problem, sweetheart. There is nothing wrong with you.”

I looked up at him and nodded my head. He cupped my cheek with his hand, his soft lips brushed my forehead, and I closed my eyes at the warm feeling it sent through me. Not a zing or a tingle, but there was a warm sensation that pulsed calmly through my body. Maybe we weren’t in love, but there was definitely love between us. Maybe not the kind lovers shared, but more like the kind family shared.

Part of the reason I wished so badly that I felt some kind of excitement with Travis was because he was our best bet at having a family. He was the safe bet. He grew up with Charles and knew him better than anyone in the world. If I had to choose the perfect daddy for Charlotte, it would be him. Not to mention the fact that he had taken me to all my doctor’s appointments when I was pregnant, or that he was the only one in the room when she was born. Travis loved Charlotte and she loved him. It made sense. I think I realized this about the same time he did. Over the past six months, we had shared a few touches, snuggles, and long hugs, and then after I got scared and decided I wasn’t ready, he kissed me.

I really didn’t understand how I didn’t feel anything more than a family bond with Travis. He was hot. Honestly, he was smoking hot. He was around 6 feet tall, with short, light brown hair and light hazel eyes. He worked out and ran a lot, and it showed. He was toned and had a bright, wide smile with full lips. He had a couple of light freckles that splattered his nose and on his shoulders. He had a tattoo on his right arm of three skulls—hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil—and he’d added Charles’s initials to the underside of it. Travis had one on the left side of his chest of an American flag with
1776
under it, and then across his broad shoulders on his back, he had his last name, “Farmer”, which was ironic because he came from a long line of farmers and ranchers. “Farmers Pumpkin Patch and Ranch” was owned and run by Travis’s father, Frank. It was a local favorite place to spend the day, especially in the fall. It was also a favorite place to buy local meat, produce and goodies.

Travis’s meaningful tattoos gave him a sexy bad boy look. Add that to his all-American, hardworking, country boy morals, and his bad ass attitude, and you had a dangerously charming catch. Girls threw themselves at him all of the time. Seriously. All. The. Time. Travis left shortly after our conversation, and Charlotte and I went over to Jules’s for dinner.

I woke up the next morning with sun pouring in the windows and warming my face. The apartment was completely bare, and today was the day to redecorate our home. It was time for a fresh start and a new life. Suddenly, a little hand slapped my forehead, and then two of the brightest emerald green eyes popped over my pillow.

“Good morning, Princess,” I said as I scooped Charlotte into my arms.

She giggled as I gave her little kisses all over her cheeks. “Mornin’, Mama,” She said.

“Let’s get dressed, go get some breakfast, and see Auntie Jules.”

She nodded her little sleepy head and rubbed her eyes as we walked into the bathroom. “I hungy.”

As we got ready, I thought of everything I needed to cross off my list. I had one week to get the apartment all set up and our lives in order. The current kindergarten teacher had up and quit to fulfil her lifelong dream of being a rodeo clown right before the school year started. No joke. I had a lot to do both in our home and in my classroom to get ready. After locking up our new home, Charlotte and I walked downstairs to the coffee shop and were welcomed by a line out the door. I smiled to myself that Jules was obviously doing well. The town had a hard time holding onto local businesses, but Jitterbugs seemed to be the exception.

Jules’s wild blonde curls spilled from her head and over her shoulders from behind the counter. Jules was in her forties, but you would never know. She looked maybe thirty-two and was slim and pretty in a unique way.

She waved her hand in the air to signal me. “Good morning, my girls, come on up here.” I smiled politely at the line of people. Then Jules stepped out from behind the counter and addressed the line. “These are my daughter-in-law and granddaughter, Megan and Charlotte, everyone!”

I could feel my cheeks burning red as everyone looked over at us, smiled and said things like, “Welcome!” I waved shyly, trying to be polite despite my embarrassment, and Charlotte buried her face in my neck. I propped her on my hip and prepared myself for Jules’s overpowering embrace. I was right in doing so, because she flew the couple of feet between us and wrapped her arms around Charlotte and me.

As the crowd returned to normal, Jules kissed both our cheeks and then gave us a love-filled smile. “Morning, ladies, you want some breakfast?”

Charlotte nodded her head and began clapping her hands wildly. “Num, Num, Num! Yup, I hungy.”

I laughed. “That would be awesome.”

Jules took off her apron and placed it on the counter. As she opened the swing gate for us to walk behind the counter, she turned to the two girls she had working. “Chels, take over for me?”

The pretty, tall girl with long, red hair, who I am guessing was Chels, nodded her head and swiftly took over the cash register.

I followed Jules, with Charlotte in tow, back through the kitchen. Jules stopped at a little round table by the back door. It had a booster seat for Charlotte and was set with a floral table cloth and a vase full of fresh wildflowers.

Jules smiled wide. “I am so excited for you ladies to be here!”

I nodded my head. “We’re excited, too! Thanks for having us this morning.”

Jules beamed at as she waved her hand at me. “Well of course, silly girl, now take a seat. I’ll grab the grub.”

I nodded and then did as told, plopping Charlotte down into the booster chair and then sitting next to her.

Jules came back in the room with a tray full of delicious-smelling food. “I didn’t know y’all serve breakfast?” I asked, letting my southern drawl slip a little.

She smiled. “Well, my Charles always said I made a mean omelet. I’ve been meaning to expand for a while, and thought I would try out the menu on you girls.”

I smiled and tried to swallow back the pain that his name brought me. “We’d like that . . . huh, Lotte?”

She wore a goofy but serious smile. “Oh yes, we like it.” I laughed. Charlotte was stuck somewhere in between baby talk and big kid talk, and what came out of her mouth always amused me.

We ate breakfast and talked about nonsense along with brief mentions of Charles that burned the back of my throat and gave a warm feeling in my heart. It was both painful and healing to talk about him, to be here. Jules decided to take the day off and took Charlotte to her house so I could have the day to get things set up.

I sat on the bench in front of the coffee shop with my iced latte in hand. It was hot out, but it wasn’t humid like I was used to. In California it was a dry heat that consumed the summer air, so it wasn’t as miserable as it was in the southeast. There was a slight breeze that would come up and whirl my hair off my shoulders. I was enjoying watching the birds in the trees across the street as I waited for Calvin’s wife, Emerson.

She was maybe two inches shorter than me, around 5 feet 5. She had medium-length brown hair, rosy cheeks, pretty, caramel-colored eyes and a sweet smile. I had first met her at her and Calvin’s wedding the April after Charles passed. I had been very pregnant with Charlotte and still very much in shock. Lucky for me, she was an extremely understanding and empathetic person, and we became fast friends. I had seen her a dozen times since then and talked to her at least once a week. She had quickly become one of my dearest friends. Yesterday morning after the Truck fiasco, Emerson offered to come over and help me unpack and decorate. I promised to buy her the lunch of her choice.

Emerson’s childhood best friend, Sarah, lived on her and Cal’s land and popped by yesterday. She also offered to come over and help. It didn’t surprise me, because Sarah and Emerson seemed to always be together. I found it amusing, since Emerson was quiet and polite and Sarah was loud and blunt. Sarah herself was amazing in many ways. She was the perfect opposite of Emerson, but in ways that complimented both of them. Sarah was short, maybe five feet one. She had wavy, dark blonde hair, freckles, a sassy attitude, a large smile and the clearest blue eyes I had ever seen.

Sarah and I had also met at Emerson and Calvin’s wedding. Just about every time I saw Emerson since them, Sarah was there too. I didn’t mind though, because I genuinely enjoyed her boisterous company. I was envious of Emerson and Sarah’s longtime friendship. I had only ever had that kind of friendship with one person. He had been my best friend since kindergarten . . . and after he declared his love to me, after I realized I was in love with him, I abandoned him and then ran into another man’s arms . . . Charles’s arms. Ugh. I did not want to think about the guilt I felt right now or about him, my childhood friend. For some reason, he had a way of popping into my mind lately. I took a sip of my ice cold drink and the warm breeze grazed my skin.

Conveniently for me, Emerson and Sarah both only lived about thirty minutes away, in a little larger but just as country town, Auburn. Part of the reason why Cal and Charles had become such fast friends is that when they first got to their unit they were young and homesick. Finding out that they had grown up only 30 minutes from one another was amazing, and they also realized that they knew similar people.

A black Jeep Liberty pulled into the parking spot in front of me. Before I could walk towards it, Emerson and Sarah hopped out and started walking towards me. “Hey!” I said with a smile.

I stood and as best as I could with one hand, I embraced Emerson as she hugged me tightly. “Hi! Sorry we’re a little late.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Just hanging out.”

Sarah laughed as she hugged me next. “Hey, Love. For your future reference, Emerson drives like a grandma.”

Emerson sighed and shook her head. “I do not.”

I smiled as Sarah argued, “You do, Em.”

Emerson shrugged. “Yeah, well if Sarah didn’t have to try on twenty outfits so she could show—”

I laughed as Sarah cut Emerson off by throwing her hand over Emerson’s mouth. Sarah looked a little on edge, and I wondered what Emerson was about to say. With her hand still on Emerson’s mouth, Sarah nodded towards the café. “Mind if we grab a coffee before—ahh!” Sarah screamed and made a disgusted face. Emerson had licked the hand that was placed over her mouth.

Sarah rapidly wiped her hand on her white mini skirt. “God, Em. That was so gross.”

Emerson shrugged. “You deserved it. Anyway, we’ll be up in a minute, Meg. We didn’t have time for coffee, and the twins kept me up all night.”

I smiled, genuinely entertained by the pair. “I’ll just wait here if you don’t mind. It feels nice out.” They nodded and then bickered quietly to themselves as they headed into the coffee house.

About ten minutes later, they walked out with large to-go iced coffee cups that matched mine. “What does your lid say?” Sarah asked as she leaned over to see my top.

I lifted it a little closer to her face, reading it out loud for the first time. Doing so made my stomach a little weak. “Love will find you.” I bit my lip. It’s just like a fortune to be so misleading. The clear lids at Jitter Bug had little quotes and phrases engraved on the top, right under where the straw went. Each lid was different. It was Jules’s way of spreading her positive attitude to others.

Sarah nodded. “Hmm. Mine says . . . ” She cleared her throat and then, in a sing-song voice, said, “Today is your lucky day.” And then she wiggled her eyebrows.

I giggled. “What does yours say, Em?”

She shrugged. “When sleep is not an option . . . Coffee.”

All three of us looked at each other and then, after a brief pause, our laughter filled the warm air. After a few seconds, I took a deep breath and wiped my tear-filled eyes. “Wow, that was pretty scary accurate.”

Emerson shook her head and snorted. “You have no idea, girl. The twins are trying to kill me with sleep deprivation.” We walked up the stairs on the side of the building to my door.

The three of us spent the morning listening to music, unpacking and hanging up things on the wall. I almost took my thumb off more than once with a hammer, but it felt nice to be surrounded by my girlfriends, laughing and enjoying their genuine company.

I had ordered almost all new furniture from Costco. About two hours after we had started, the delivery truck pulled in. The guys quickly hustled the items up my steep steps and into the living room. They were even kind enough to put each item where we were planning to build it to make it easier on us. I noticed Emerson shied away from even looking at the men, but Sarah all but threw herself at them.

“I guess my fortune was right, Meg,” Sarah yelled over at me with a wink. I felt my cheeks redden for her, but she just laughed and waved her hand at me.

I had tipped the men forty dollars for their good work, and then the three of us women got to work. The problem was that we didn’t know where to start, and we ended up just staring at piles of pieces. “Alright, that’s it, I can’t take it. I’m calling—”

Sarah quickly pointed the chair leg chair she was holding at me. “Don’t you dare say it, Megan Maxwell. Don’t you dare say you are calling . . . him.” The disgust in her voice told me who she was referring to. I wasn’t exactly sure why, but Travis and Sarah had a love-hate relationship ever since the moment they’d met.

Emerson laughed. “Seriously, S? After you spent all morning—” Emerson was cut off when a throw pillow hit her square in the face.

I laughed. “What the . . . ?”

Sarah’s face was red and she was glaring at Emerson, who just started laughing. “How does it feel being the one who is embarrassed by your best friend?”

Sarah sighed and shook her head. Then she smiled weakly. “Yeah, yeah. I get it, alright. Payback’s a bitch.”

Emerson smiled wider. “Yeah, she is.”

I huffed with a slight laugh. “Fine . . . but what are we going to do?”

Emerson stared at Sarah with the same look on her face that I’m sure I was wearing. “Can Cal come?” I asked Emerson.

She shook her head. “He’s on duty.” Cal was a paramedic for the Auburn fire department.

I nodded, knowing what that meant. “Sarah?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

“Just hold on one minute, ladies. We are three smart, capable women. We can do this.” I laughed. Sarah held up her hand in protest. “No. Seriously, hold on. I’m thinking.”

I grabbed my cellphone. “Okay. You think, I’m ordering lunch . . . my treat . . . burritos, anyone?”

Emerson laughed. “Thank God. I am starving.”

Both girls gave me their order and I called it in. Then I proceeded to listen to Sarah’s plan of action. Deciding it might actually work, we piled all of the pieces into neat piles with the instructions placed on top. Then we attacked one object at a time, together. Teamwork seemed to be more our style. By the time our burritos arrived, we had successfully built the table and three chairs.

“Perfect.” Emerson smiled.

“See? No men required,” Sarah said with a fist pump in the air.

After we had inhaled half our food, I looked up at Sarah. “What’s the deal with Travis?”

She practically choked on her burrito. She took a drink and cleared her throat. “What about him?”

I smiled. “Seriously, S? You are hot and cold with him, and then you looked like you might die if I called him for help.”

She shook her head and took another sip, her face looking a little distraught. “I don’t mind him one second, and then I want to choke him. It’s his fault, not mine.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Emerson’s eyes trailed back from Sarah to me as she quietly ate. After a few moments of silence, Sarah cleared her throat “So, what’s up with
you
and Travis?” She made sure to put an emphasis on the word ‘you’. I noticed that Emerson shot Sarah a sideways look, and Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Strange.

“Um, me and Travis?” I asked.

Emerson giggled and chimed in. “Um, yeah.
You
and Travis.”

Genuinely confused, I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. We are friends.”

Sarah snorted to herself and shifted again. Emerson shot her another look and then smiled. “You sure about that?” Emerson had one eyebrow raised and a smile plastered on her face as she stared at me uncomfortably.

“Um, yeah. I’m sure,” I said, feeling a little insecure about my answer.

“Hmmm.” Emerson responded. “It just seems like you guys spend a lot of time together and you seem . . . well, I don’t know. You seem . . . ”

She paused, and Sarah sat up and finished her thought for her. “Like a couple.”

I laughed this time, because we were so far from that. Weren’t we? I didn’t even have any feelings for him. Not like that, anyway, even if I wished I did. I didn’t. Plus, he had just told me yesterday that he didn’t like me. “Umm no, we are not a couple. I don’t feel that way for him, and he doesn’t feel that way for me.”

Sarah sat up at the last statement and cleared her throat, clearly trying to sound cool and collected. “Did he tell you that?”

She took a bite of her burrito and I nodded my head. “Like, yesterday.” I smiled, realizing why she was so hot and cold with him. “You like Travis!” I shouted.

Emerson laughed loudly, and Sarah shot her a look so angry I thought her eyes would pop out of her head. I giggled. Sarah fidgeted with her plate a little. “I . . . No, I . . . Ugh.” Her face was bright red and she turned back to face forward.

I smiled wider, pointing at her. “Wait a minute—that’s what took you so long this morning to get ready? You were trying to look good for him. Then why didn’t you want me to call him?” I asked curiously, with my brows raised at Sarah.

She sighed and dusted off her hands before wiping her face. “We hooked up—like, maybe once, okay—and I don’t know, I don’t want to see him, but if I run into him I . . . I don’t know. I guess I want to look good.”

I stood up and tucked my chair in, smiling. “What?!” I asked with excitement. “When did you guys hook up? And what does ‘maybe once’ mean?”

I grabbed my plate and then theirs. As I began walking to the kitchen to set the plates in the sink, I saw Emerson smile. “At our wedding.”

I thought for a second as I walked back into the dining area, and then—
ah-ha!
Well, that made a lot of sense now that I thought back on that night. I didn’t miss the fact that Sarah didn’t answer my question about what “maybe once” meant. The girls both stood to continue our work.

I laughed. “Wow. Well, I had no idea. All this time? Jeez. Way to be discrete.”

I heard Sarah mumble something under her breath. I could have sworn she said,
“
Just how Travis likes me.
”
I ignored it, and she began working on chair number four.

After a couple of hours, the place looked nice and everything was in its place. I was admiring my little apartment when Emerson walked out, carrying a large box. Sarah followed with a matching one in her arms. My heart jumped, and my throat started to close. I knew the boxes were here, but I chose to ignore them. I had shoved them deep in my closet and was hoping to just not look at them . . . ever.

In a soft voice, Emerson asked, “Meg . . . What do you want to do with all his clothes?”

I swallowed hard and avoided looking in their eyes. I couldn’t let them see how broken I still was. I shrugged. “I don’t know.” I stood for a second, just staring at the boxes.

“We will just put them back, Meg. You can decide later,” Sarah said kindly.

As they began to turn back to the room, I stopped them with my hand. “No. No, it’s been almost three years. I can’t . . . I can’t keep pretending like he’ll need those.” Willing the tears not to fall, I looked into Emerson’s eyes and she nodded. “I need to start acting like he is never coming home, because . . . because . . . ”