Travis (Pelion Lake 1) - Page 31

“Really?” I stood. “Who called?”

“Marc Hobbs out on Lark Lane.”

“Travis, before you leave, I had an important question!” Spencer said urgently.

“What is it?”

“Well, conducting this research got me thinking . . .”

Uh-oh. Spencer doing any sort of in-depth “thinking” never seemed to bode well for . . . pretty much, anyone. He was an excellent rule follower, but I wished he’d leave the “thinking” to others more suited for cerebral pursuits.

“You know, about our community and all the decent, upstanding people who live here in Pelion.”

“Uh-huh.” I made a gesture of impatience that he should speed this up. I had plants to rescue.

“And I thought, what if we formed a community relations group that might help inform our office about infractions?”

Infractions? That sounded a little bit like asking the public to snitch on their neighbors over minor offenses that the police department didn’t need to be involved with. But Pelion citizens weren’t like that. We’d only grown closer over the years, and especially since the . . . drama that had ensued eight years ago. People looked out for each other, more than anything. Good had come from the shock of events involving the Hale family. But Spencer was standing there, looking so eager, and hell, maybe it would be a good thing for the community and those who wanted to get more involved. “Listen, Spencer, if this community relations group focuses more on neighbors looking out for one another, and reporting on situations that might result in someone getting hurt, you have my approval.”

Spencer looked mildly shocked. “Really? Great! Thanks, bo—Travis.”

“Think small budget, though.”

“Absolutely. I asked, and Birdie Ellis has already volunteered to be on the committee and to donate any printing we might need.”

Birdie Ellis. One of the biggest gossips in town, with a penchant toward dictatorship. She was always volunteering for one church or community-focused group so she could boss people around and generally assert her will. But if she was offering free printing from the company she and her husband ran, why not? I moved around Spencer. “You’re in charge of this, Spencer. I don’t need to be consulted unless necessary. And . . . keep up the good work,” I said, patting him on the shoulder and rushing out of the room, glad he had something to occupy him so he wasn’t tagging along behind me on runs we both didn’t need to be involved in. Namely, this one.

“Good luck!” Deb called with the amount of joyful enthusiasm she usually reserved for cat-in-tree rescue runs. I shot her a smile as the front door swung closed behind me.

As I drove, I allowed my mind to travel back to the kiss of the night before, remembering how, even in her anger, or maybe especially in her anger, she’d been so incredibly beautiful my heart had nearly stopped. Her cheeks had been flushed, those untamed curls bouncing around her face. I’d been both mesmerized and guilt-stricken.

I’d been an ass. It came easily to me.

And I’d been an ass because I’d been jealous. Jealous that she was there for Gage. There to try to impress Gage, to get him to notice her. Of course, I couldn’t tell her that. I didn’t even completely understand it myself.

We shouldn’t.

I tapped at the steering wheel, considering the knowledge that she was also clearly interested in Gage. Jealousy wasn’t exactly a novelty in my repertoire of emotions. Truth be told, maybe I’d spent much of my life being jealous. But this had felt different . . . I didn’t know how it had felt different, but it had.

Was I being petty? I didn’t want to be petty when it came to Haven. I wanted to be better than that.

Why?

I wasn’t sure.

But that kiss. The kiss had shaken me. I was still shaken.

I was a thirty-two-year-old man who was far from a virgin and . . . God, I’d had no idea a kiss could be like that. If we’d been anywhere other than Gage’s patio during a party where anyone might have seen us, I’d have tried to take it further. Undress her. Feel her extremely soft skin against mine. Taste her everywhere. Why? Because I was turned on, and even though maybe Haven wasn’t the sort of woman I normally went for, she’d ticked every box in that dress.

I adjusted myself in my seat, a flush of hot arousal at the thought of getting Haven naked and beneath me making me feel in control again.

This, this feeling I could identify and understand, even if I’d thought twice about acting on it once my blood had cooled and we’d arrived back at the B&B the night before.

I still felt shaky on why I was on a plant rescue mission, other than that I owed her. Again, I’d been an ass. I’d set her up. I’d upset her. In a way that’d made me want to simultaneously comfort and distract her from whatever was happening in that head of hers. She’d been spiraling.

Tags: Mia Sheridan Pelion Lake Romance
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