You Rock My World (The Blackwells of Crystal Lake 3)

“I don’t want anything,” she replied.

He stepped close, and she held her breath, afraid to breathe. “You’re lying. You want me as much as I want you.”

Ruby Montgomery had taken leave of her senses, because she was actually considering his words. Sex with no strings? Could she do that with Travis and survive?

Travis held her gaze a heartbeat longer. He gave her a smile that told her he didn’t give a damn about anything she’d just said. It was a quick, wicked smile that spoke volumes. It was a warning. Travis Blackwell was playing to win.

“I’ll see you around.”

“I don’t think so, Travis.” It was an attempt to make things clear, but even to Ruby, her voice sounded unsure.

“It’s a small town. Won’t be a problem.”

“True, but there’s lots of hiding places. I can disappear if I want to. Make myself scarce.” She thrust up her chin, praying her knees didn’t give out.

“Good,” he murmured. “It’ll make finding you a lot more interesting.”

He winked at her, slipped his aviators back in place, and walked away.

Chapter 11

Three days earlier, Travis had had his come-to-Jesus moment. He knew what he needed to do. Where he needed to go. But damned if he was stuck on which way to get there.

He tossed his hammer and stood back, wiping sweat from his brow as he gazed across the water at a fast-approaching boat. It was Thursday evening, and he’d spent the entirety of the afternoon fixing the dock at his dad’s place, along with Wyatt and Zach. The boys had decided the day before to tackle the project when Wyatt found out their father had hired a company to come out and do it. His brother was taking some time off from the NASCAR circuit and cooling his heels at Regan’s place, and Travis, well, he was fed up trying to nail down Ruby. She’d been good on her word. He hadn’t set eyes on her since Monday, and that wasn’t from lack of trying.

“It’s Nash,” Wyatt said with a grin as the boat slowed.

“I think that’s Hudsy with him.” Their older brother had gone to the city with his wife and newborn for a doctor’s appointment earlier in the day. Travis was glad to see him.

“Thought Nash would be busy at the bar.” Travis stretched sore muscles. It had been a while since he’d worked with his hands, and he glanced down at the blisters forming along his palm and fingers and smiled. It felt good.

“Hudson was looking for an excuse to get away, so I ordered us up some food.”

Travis’s stomach rumbled at the thought, but he nodded toward the house. “You don’t think Darlene is gonna have a problem with that?”

The woman lived for cooking and liked nothing more than to have all “her boys” gathered around a table laden with food she’d prepared.

“Nope. She and Dad are going to the Little House Theatre to see a play.”

Surprised, Travis yanked his head back. Since when was their father well enough to sit through a play?

“I know.” Wyatt shrugged. “He makes an effort for her, but I won’t be surprised if they come home early.” He rubbed his hands together. “In any case, I thought Nash could look after us and save firing up the barbecue.”

“Since firing up the barbecue is such a chore.”

Wyatt shoved Travis. “It’s not the barbecue so much as Darlene’s pristine patio. That new set they bought is worth more than this damn deck. All we’d need is one of you ding-dongs to get crap all over it. I just didn’t want to deal. You know how Dad gets. Remember when we had the party, that time he and Darlene went away for the weekend? That girl Hudson was seeing spilled red wine all over the white sofa in the family room. Jesus, I thought the old man’s head was going to pop off. He made us work the whole summer to pay him back what it cost to replace the damn thing. And I’m pretty sure we could have had it cleaned.”

Travis nodded but didn’t respond. John Blackwell had always been a hard-ass. It had just gotten worse after their mother passed. Nothing seemed to please him, and he’d taken every opportunity to point it out.

After a while, Travis offered, “He’s changed.”

“Most men do when they’re dying.” His brother’s words were eerily similar to what his father had said only a few days earlier.

“Sometimes it’s too late, and sometimes it isn’t.” Wyatt looked back at Travis. “And sometimes it just doesn’t matter anymore.”

As his brother walked away from him, Travis realized just how fractured his family still was.

Nash and Hudson hopped onto the dock and handed over two extra-large pizzas, a basket of dry Cajun chicken wings, and three boxes of piping-hot fries. Wyatt disappeared into the boathouse and returned holding a large bucket filled to the brim with beer and ice.