Travis (Pelion Lake 1)

I’d bought the dress on the sale rack at the back of a clothing shop called Mandy’s on Pelion’s Main Street. Even on deep discount, the dress was a splurge, but when I’d put it on, it felt both daring and somehow me even though I’d never worn a cocktail dress in my life. The only event I’d attended that one might classify as a cocktail party was the social hour here at The Yellow Trellis Inn where prison hooch was served in red Solo cups.

The owner, Mandy herself, had laced the ties up for me and when I’d asked her if it was too revealing, she’d smiled and said that no, I looked like a class act. Perhaps she’d just been trying to sell me the dress, but she’d seemed so kind and sincere, and I’d believed her.

My hair was long and loose, the curls tamed by a good amount of mousse, and a diffuser I’d borrowed from Clarice. The ends of it tickled the bare skin of my lower back.

I rounded the curve in the staircase and saw Travis, his back to me. I was stepping slowly in the heels I wasn’t used to wearing, and though I was virtually soundless, Travis turned as though he’d sensed my presence. And his body went utterly still. His eyes swept down my body and I saw his throat move as he swallowed. He was even more gorgeous than usual in dark gray khakis, a white shirt, and a blue and gray patterned tie. He’d obviously gotten a haircut, which made him look more vulnerable in a way I couldn’t exactly explain. Younger. Eager to impress.

Time slowed, stretching like the sweet, pink taffy I’d watched being spun in the window of a candy shop in a coastal town Easton and I had stopped at for lunch before we’d arrived in Pelion. Our gazes held as I completed the final handful of stairs and stepped down to meet Travis where he stood. His face was so very serious, almost stunned, and my heart kicked. “Enough skin?” I whispered, a strange hitch in my voice.

He smiled almost sweetly, a smile I hadn’t yet seen from this man, my friend. My temporary friend. His gaze dropped again and for a few moments he was quiet. When his eyes met mine, he said simply, “You’re perfect.”

My breath gusted from my mouth. I’d held it for a moment as I’d waited for his answer. Something moved between us, something lighter and hotter than the sweet, slow taffy that had just moved through my mind. It quickened my heart. It scattered fear through my system. “So you think Gage will approve?” I asked.

His face did something funny. He looked away for a moment and when he looked back at me, his lip quirked. “He’s a fool if he doesn’t. Let’s go, Haven from California.”

I heard chatter and the sound of others descending the stairs—the other guests staying at The Yellow Trellis Inn coming down for happy hour. “Oh! Bye, you two. Have fun,” Cricket said, coming around the corner and spotting us. I smiled at her, and when I glanced back at Betty, Clarice, and Burt, who had stopped near the bottom of the stairs, both women looked enchanted, their eyes glued. It was like we were their children and they were watching us leave for the prom. Betty whispered in Burt’s ear as though narrating our departure.

“I thought about getting you flowers,” Travis said. “But I figured a plant lady such as yourself, prefers living things keep their roots.”

I smiled, charmed by his consideration, and his accuracy.

When Travis opened the truck door for me, I looked over my shoulder to see Easton standing at his room window, watching us leave, looking both shifty-eyed and concerned, the fabric of the curtain gripped in his fist. Travis waved to him, shooting him that overly demonic smile he liked to use to harass Easton. A laugh rose in my throat, but I pretended not to notice.

“So I didn’t ask what this charity fundraiser is for,” I said when we’d pulled on to the main road, the lake sparkling under the lowering sun and sending glints of light into the cab of his truck.

“I think it’s for some animal habitat. The Buchanan family is always trying to save some endangered species or another.”

My heart melted. “How kind and generous.” Of course they used their—from what I’d gathered—substantial wealth to rescue animals. Gage was perfect. It only stood to reason that his family was perfect too.

Then again, I didn’t ascribe to that whole apple not falling far from the tree philosophy. If I did, I’d feel pretty hopeless about my own future prospects. And Easton’s too for that matter.

Travis was tapping his hand on the steering wheel distractedly. Finally, he sighed. “You’re right about the Buchanans,” he said almost begrudgingly. “They are generous. They are kind. Gage himself runs several foundations. He even chairs some kind of rescue habitat for possums.”