Paradise Peak (New Americana 5)

By the time Hannah had shut the door and peeled off her wet clothes, the water gushing from the tap had warmed up. She turned on the showerhead, placed a towel nearby, and stepped into the tub, drawing the curtain closed.

“You can come in now.”

She craned her neck, straining to hear Travis’s entrance over the rush of water. When a cool breath of air and Travis’s low, gentle voice entered the room, a sense of calm moved through her.

The feeling took her aback. Other than with Red, she hadn’t felt that way in a man’

s presence in years. The sensation was new, comforting, and in a way . . . exciting.

Smiling, she grabbed the shampoo and lathered her hair. The warm, clean water and the shampoo’s light, floral scent were heaven and made Hannah feel tons better, but when she grabbed the soap, a flash of reddish brown on her palm caught her eye.

Small amounts of blood had dried on her hand where Travis’s palm had pressed against hers in the truck. Chest aching, she recalled the hard set of his jaw and how he’d winced as he’d yanked at the tangled barbed wire earlier. He must’ve been in a lot of pain, but he’d never said a word. Instead, he’d consoled and protected her without so much as a thought for himself.

She scrubbed her palm hard, then cleaned the rest of her body, moving quickly. After turning off the water, she grabbed her towel and dried off, then wrapped it around her in a sarong and stepped out of the shower.

“Travis?”

Standing by the bathroom vanity, he looked up, his big hands stilling over Blondie’s leg as he took in her appearance. He quickly turned away, checked Blondie’s bandage once more, then picked her up off the vanity. “I’ll step out so you can—”

“Wait,” she said, touching his arm. “How’s your hand?”

He was silent for a moment, then said, “It’s fine.”

“May I see?” She slid her hand down his arm, trying not to notice the hard bulge of his biceps and defined forearm through his wet shirt. “Please?”

He hesitated, then nodded and set Blondie on the floor. The puppy left the bathroom, sniffed around, then settled on the floor in front of the bed and closed her eyes.

Travis faced Hannah fully and held out his palm.

She cupped his hand in hers and tugged him closer to the lantern’s light to examine his injury. Two deep cuts marred his tanned skin, and dried blood caked the injuries.

“It must hurt,” she whispered.

“Not much.”

“Will you let me clean it?” She raised her head, her eyes meeting his.

He nodded, and she reached for the first-aid kit by the sink. She cleaned his wound carefully, then applied antiseptic. Travis had used most of the gauze to cover Blondie’s leg wound, but there was just enough left to wrap around his injured palm.

When Hannah finished, she kissed his wrist. “There.”

“Thank you.” Travis flexed his bandaged hand and looked down at her, his gaze drifting over her mouth and down to her chest where the upper swells of her breasts pressed against the damp towel.

The desire in his eyes warmed her belly.

His cheeks flushed and he ducked his head, his jaw tightening.

“Travis?” Hannah smiled, waiting until he met her eyes again. “It’s okay. I know you’re a gentleman.”

She’d hoped for one of his sexy smiles in return, or at least a relieved shrug. But his cheeks reddened even more as he stared back at her, and his discomfort seemed to grow.

“Am I?” he asked softly, his lips barely moving.

The sadness in his eyes made her heart ache. She reached up and cupped his jaw, smoothing her thumbs over the rough stubble lining his cheeks.

“After what you did for Liz and Zeke? For me? For all of us really.” She shook her head. “How could you think otherwise?”

He didn’t answer, just held her gaze, a haunted look entering his expression.