“Nope. I wanna text you up and take you out.” He grinned unabashedly, though his grin fell at her still-hesitant look. Why was she so hesitant? When had she ever been hesitant with him? “I meant what I said. About the trust. I’m gonna hit the ground running like those line sprints coach made me do in high school, and you oughta know me well enough to remember”—his eyes bored hard into hers, so hard, she shivered delightfully—“when I set my mind to something, I see it through. But I want you to put some trust in me, too. Together, we can work through this.”
His gaze once more dipped to her smiling lips, but her eyes said, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” He’d once sung that he was going to love her forever. Come hell or high water, he’d keep his promise.
She withdrew her phone, woke up the screen, and handed it to him. He opened her contacts and tapped in his nickname, Trav. He’d always been Trav to her, and he didn’t want it any other way. Then he sent himself a quick text. A second later, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
“And now I got your number.”
God, the adorable blush. He meant every bit of that innuendo. He knew what turned her on—he just needed to know how to make her happy again and remind her that the good times in their past overrode the bad times and that they weren’t worth throwing away.
With Lopez breathing down his neck for his opinion on the All Creature clinic, he sensed a revised future together in their grasp, if they could get past the heartache, but it was too soon to drop even more for her to consider upon her shoulders. He clipped her phone back onto her cell phone holder, a pathetic excuse to touch her again, then slowly, carefully slid his palms around her slim waist, rock solid with muscle he wanted to run his hands over, bare skin on bare skin, then dropped his lips to hers once more, his eyes holding hers, his smile gone.
Their last kiss had been an explosion of need. This one was a rejoining, to solidify this agreement to find a way. Tingling spiked his blood at the newness of it all. Still hanging at half-mast, he felt slow, steady throbs, vying to be nestled between her welcoming thighs again. He couldn’t help it. This reaction was wrapped up in every thought about her. Twenty-four hours at the hospital, acting professional, was going to be a painful eternity.
“I don’t wanna leave,” he whispered, lips still pressed to her so his words sounded mashed.
It was the first time in his entire medical career that he hadn’t wanted to rush to class, rush to clinicals, rush to seminars or call shifts or ORs.
“Go out with me,” he added.
“What?” she asked, and he pressed his forehead to hers again. “Now?”
He smiled. Not now, sadly. “I wanna date you all over again. When are you free?”
She bit her lip, smiled carefully. Her finger now traced designs on his T-shirt, making his muscles twitch beneath the pensive gesture, but she seemed reluctant. “I don’t know, I rarely have free time… Brandon has that Rangers game tomorrow evening… I’d need to see if Jasper can check on the animals for me… Where did you want to go?”
He thought. “Let me work on it.”
“Will I need a dress? I don’t think I even own a dress, maybe an old one, but—”
“You won’t need a dress on.”
She quirked a brow up at him, as if he was implying clothes were optional or might end up on the floor anyway. So her mind was still in the gutter, too. He chuckled.
His pager buzzed again.
“Go on,” she replied, smiling and pushing him away. “Someone needs you more than I do right now.” But she needed him. “Text me.”
“Count on it, sweetheart.” His palm caressed her cheek, then dropped.
He pulled away. Any longer, and he wasn’t going to leave. He turned to Yoda, patting his abs, and the dog jumped up and settled his paws on his navel. He fluffed both ears, scratching them vigorously.
“You be a good patient, y’hear? Take care of my Sky?” Yoda whined. He liked to think Yoda understood him when he talked to him, but he knew Yoda was confused about why he was doing his goodbye ritual here and not at home. “Earn your keep? Be a good boy?”
He sensed a fond smile from Sky in his periphery, and the corner of his mouth tipped up.
“He can start earning his keep by helping me get rid of these treats.”
Yoda’s head flitted toward Skylar at the sound of that magic word “treat” as the jar scraped across the counter. Yoda landed back on his feet, padding to her.
“You’re gonna spoil him. He ain’t gonna want to go home after a stint at your place.”
She only laughed. Yup, she knew the right way to distract the dog so Travis could slip out the door. She didn’t look at him as her next words, spoken softly, caused redness to climb her neck.
“Maybe he’ll get used to being there.”
Yeah, get the F out, man, before you grab that woman again and refuse to let go.
But there’d be no getting used to Skylar’s ranch if he and Lopez broke ground in Dallas because he would have to divide his time for the next several years between both locations. Should he call Toby about the land? Could he confront those unspoken hurts that, thanks to the old bro code, neither Toby or he had ever talked about? He shouldn’t make snap decisions just yet about what land to use. He and Sky were barely reunited. They needed time. But the Dallas decision didn’t have the luxury of time.