Travis (Pelion Lake 1)

No. I know. I know that.

Of course, if Easton got fired from the club, that would affect his sister. I lifted my hand, rubbing at my eye.

What are you thinking?

I was thinking that I’m glad we’re friends.

Friends.

That particular laugh met my ears again, my train of thought regarding Easton scattering.

At least this way, with him still employed at the club, I could continue to keep my eye on him, both at work and at home. And keep him guessing. Keep him wondering.

I sighed, tossing the empty bottle in the trash. “Never mind. For a minute, I thought he was someone else.”

“Ah. Well, it’s good to see you looking so well, Chief. Have a nice rest of your day.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Hearst. You too.”

And with that, I turned away, moving toward that laugh.

“Don’t you see enough of me?” Haven asked, putting her hands on her hips as I rounded the corner.

“I’m not here for you. I’m here for the wheat germ.”

She laughed and whatever had been on my mind moments before, was suddenly gone. “Ah. The wheat germ. Likely story.”

I grinned. “Hey, friend.”

“Hey yourself. What can I delight your palate with today?”

At her words, a zing of heat shot through my midriff. A zing that didn’t exactly feel . . . friendly.

I’d been rising every morning to accompany her on her plant rounds, and we’d chatted about mundane subjects, getting to know each other on a surface level. It was nice. Peaceful. I enjoyed her company. And maybe enjoyed was too tempered a word because again, I was following her as she performed plant rounds.

All while carrying that damn cat who just happened to show up each morning just when I did. And I didn’t even like cats.

In any case, I was pretty sure Haven enjoyed my company too, and the time we spent together talking in the hush of the early morning. But . . .

Again, I needed a break from women. And she wasn’t staying in Maine anyway so it was really a moot point. Friendship was fine, but anything else was more complicated than I wanted at the moment. She leaned forward to grab something from a shelf below the counter and I caught the slight rounded swell of one breast. My mouth went momentarily dry.

Haven stilled suddenly and my eyes shot to her face, breathing out a sigh of relief when I saw that she hadn’t caught me staring down her shirt, but that she was looking behind me.

I turned to see Gage Buchanan approaching, a wide smile on his face. He took a seat. “Haven,” he said in greeting.

Her cheeks flushed, lashes fluttered. “Hi, Gage,” she said, a breathless quality to her voice that made me narrow my eyes. “What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have one of those protein shakes you made for me last week, please.” He turned slightly. “Travis.”

“Hey, Gage,” I said, my eyes still focused on Haven whose eyes were still focused on Gage. A streak of annoyance lit inside me.

“One protein shake coming right up,” she said, finally tearing her eyes away as she turned and began adding the ingredients to the blender, giving one not-so-furtive glance back at Gage. I resisted rolling my eyes.

“I hope you’re coming tonight?” Gage said, turning his stool toward me.

I searched my mind for what the hell he might be talking about, remembering some charity event invitation that I’d stuck to my fridge at home. The one I wasn’t currently living at. “Oh, is that tonight? Sorry, I totally spaced it.” I noticed Haven lean back slightly as she obviously listened to our conversation over the grinding of the blender.

“Any donation helps,” Gage said. “And we’d be honored to have the chief of police at our event.”

I felt a muscle in my jaw twitch. Gage was the only one who still invited me to crap like that. The events that I’d attended regularly, as had my mother, before she had moved away and I’d been demoted to “common citizen.” Not lakeside royalty like the Buchanan family. The fact that Gage still endeavored to include me made me feel both grateful and embarrassed. “I’ll try to make it,” I said noncommittally.

In front of us, Haven poured the blended drink into a glass, and set it in front of Gage who gave her a wide, genuine smile, held the glass up in a cheers gesture, and then took a sip. “Thanks, Haven. This is delicious.”

She noticeably swooned. For Christ’s sake. I drummed my fingers on the counter. “Anytime,” she breathed as he got up, nodded to me, and walked away.

Haven stared after him for a few moments, sighing as she leaned back against the counter.

“You too, huh?”

She looked at me, watching her with one eyebrow raised. “Me too, what?”

“One of the hordes who have a crush on Gage Buchanan. How . . . boring.”