Beautiful disaster, p.26
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       Beautiful Disaster, p.26

         Part #1 of Beautiful series by Jamie McGuire
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I raised an eyebrow. “Ready for what?”

  “You said pick you up at five.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “I meant five in the morning!”

  “Oh. I guess I should call Dad and let him know we won’t be staying after all.”

  “Travis!” I wailed.

  “I brought Shep’s car so we didn’t have to deal with our bags on the bike. There’s a spare bedroom you can crash in. We can watch a movie or—”

  “I’m not staying at your dad’s!”

  His face fell. “Okay. I’ll uh…I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He took a step back and I shut the door, leaning against it. Every emotion I had weaved in and out of my insides, and I heaved an exasperated sigh. With Travis’s disappointed expression fresh on my mind, I pulled open the door and stepped out, seeing that he was slowly walking down the hall, dialing his phone.

  “Travis, wait.” He flipped around and the hopeful look in his eyes made my chest ache. “Give me a minute to pack a few things.”

  A relieved, appreciative smile spread across his face and he followed me to my room, watching me shove a few things in a bag from the doorway.

  “I still love you, Pidge.”

  I didn’t look up. “Don’t. I’m not doing this for you.”

  He sucked in a breath. “I know.”

  We rode in silence to his dad’s house. The car felt charged with nervous energy, and it was hard to sit still against the cold leather seats. Once we arrived, Trenton and Jim walked out onto the porch, all smiles. Travis carried our bags from the car, and Jim patted his back.

  “Good to see ya, son.” His smiled broadened when he looked at me. “Abby Abernathy. We’re looking forward to dinner tomorrow. It’s been a long time since…Well. It’s been a long time.”

  I nodded and followed Travis into the house. Jim rested his hand on his protruding belly and grinned. “I set you two up in the guest bedroom, Trav. I didn’t figure you would wanna fight with the twin in your room.”

  I looked to Travis. It was difficult watching him struggle to speak. “Abby’s uh … she’s going to uh … going to take the guest room. I’m going to crash in mine.”

  Trenton made a face. “Why? She’s been staying at your apartment, hasn’t she?”

  “Not lately,” he said, desperately trying to avoid the truth.

  Jim and Trenton traded glances. “Thomas’s room has been storage for years now, so I was going to let him take your room. I guess he can sleep on the couch,” Jim said, looking to the ratty, discolored cushions in the living room.

  “Don’t worry about it, Jim. We were just trying to be respectful,” I said, touching his arm.

  His laughter bellowed throughout the house, and he patted my hand. “You’ve met my sons, Abby. You should know it’s damn near impossible to offend me.”

  Travis nodded toward the stairs, and I followed him. He pushed open the door with his foot and sat our bags on the floor, looking at the bed and then turning to me. The room was lined in brown paneling, the brown carpet beyond normal wear and tear. The walls were a dirty white, the paint peeling in places. I saw only one frame on the wall; enclosed was a picture of Jim and Travis’s mother. The background was a generic portrait-studio blue; the couple sported feathered hair and young, smiling faces. It must have been taken before they had the boys; neither of them could have been older than twenty.

  “I’m sorry, Pidge. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  “Damn straight you will,” I said, pulling my hair into a ponytail. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

  He sat on the bed and rubbed his face in frustration. “This is going to be a fucking mess. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “I know exactly what you were thinking. I’m not stupid, Travis.”

  He looked up at me and smiled. “But you still came.”

  “I have to get everything ready for tomorrow,” I said, opening the door.

  Travis stood up. “I’ll help you.”

  We peeled a mountain of potatoes, cut up vegetables, set out the turkey to thaw, and started the piecrusts. The first hour was more than uncomfortable, but when the twins arrived, everyone seemed to congregate in the kitchen. Jim told stories about each of his boys, and we laughed about tales of earlier disastrous Thanksgivings when they attempted to do something other than order pizza.

  “Diane was a hell of a cook,” Jim mused. “Trav doesn’t remember, but there was no sense trying after she passed.”

  “No pressure, Abby,” Trenton said. He chuckled, and then grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Let’s get out the cards. I want to try to make back some of my money that Abby took.”

  Jim waved his finger at his son. “No poker this weekend, Trent. I brought down the dominoes; go set those up. No betting, dammit. I mean it.”

  Trenton shook his head. “All right, old man, all right.” Travis’s brothers meandered from the kitchen, and Trent followed, stopping to look back. “C’mon, Trav.”

  “I’m helping Pidge.”

  “There’s not much more to do, baby,” I said. “Go ahead.”

  His eyes softened at my words, and he touched my hip. “You sure?”

  I nodded and he leaned over to kiss my cheek, squeezing my hip with his fingers before following Trenton into the game room.

  Jim watched his sons file out of the doorway, shaking his head and smiling. “This is incredible what you’re doing, Abby. I don’t think you realize how much we all appreciate it.”

  “It was Trav’s idea. I’m glad I could help.”

  His large frame settled against the counter, taking a swig of his beer while he pondered his next words. “You and Travis haven’t talked much. You having problems?”

  I squeezed the dish soap into the sink as it filled with hot water, trying to think of something to say that wasn’t a bald-faced lie. “Things are a little different, I guess.”

  “That’s what I thought. You have to be patient with him. Travis doesn’t remember much about it, but he was close to his mom, and after we lost her he was never the same. I thought he’d grow out of it, you know, with him being so young. It was hard on all of us, but Trav…he quit trying to love people after that. I was surprised that he brought you here. The way he acts around you, the way he looks at you … I knew you were somethin’ special.”

  I smiled, but kept my eyes on the dishes I was scrubbing.

  “Travis’ll have a hard time. He’s going to make a lot of mistakes. He grew up around a bunch of motherless boys and a lonely, grouchy old man for a father. We were all a little lost after Diane died, and I guess I didn’t help the boys cope the way I should have.

  “I know it’s hard not to blame him, but you have to love him, anyway, Abby. You’re the only woman he’s loved besides his mother. I don’t know what it’ll do to him if you leave him, too.”

  I swallowed back the tears and nodded, unable to reply. Jim rested his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I’ve never seen him smile the way he does when he’s with you. I hope all my boys have an Abby one day.”

  His footsteps faded down the hallway and I gripped the edge of the sink, trying to catch my breath. I knew spending the holiday with Travis and his family would be difficult, but I didn’t think my heart would be broken all over again. The men joked and laughed in the next room as I washed and dried the dishes, putting them away. I cleaned the kitchen and then washed my hands, making my way to the stairs for the night.

  Travis grabbed my hand. “It’s early, Pidge. You’re not going to bed, are ya?”

  “It’s been a long day. I’m tired.”

  “We were getting ready to watch a movie. Why don’t you come back down and hang out?”

  I looked up the stairs and then down to his hopeful smile. “Okay.”

  He led me by the hand to the couch, and we sat together as the opening credits rolled.

  “Shut off that light, Taylor,” Jim ordered.

  Travis reached his arm behind me, resting his a
rm on the back of the couch. He was trying to keep up pretenses while appeasing me. He had been careful not to take advantage of the situation, and I found myself conflicted, both grateful and disappointed. Sitting so close to him, smelling the mixture of tobacco and his cologne, it was very difficult for me to keep my distance, both physically and emotionally. Just as I had feared, my resolve was wavering. I struggled to block out everything Jim had said in the kitchen.

  Halfway through the movie, the front door flew open and Thomas rounded the corner, bags in hand.

  “Happy Thanksgiving!” he said, setting his luggage on the floor.

  Jim stood up and hugged his oldest son, and everyone but Travis stood to greet him.

  “You’re not going to say hi to Thomas?” I whispered.

  He didn’t look at me when he spoke, watching his family hug and laugh. “I got one night with you. I’m not going to waste a second of it.”

  “Hi, there, Abby. It’s good to see you again,” Thomas smiled.

  Travis touched my knee with his hand and I looked down and then to Travis. Noticing my expression, Travis took his hand off my leg and interlocked his fingers in his lap.

  “Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?” Thomas asked.

  “Shut up, Tommy,” Travis grumbled.

  The mood in the room shifted, and I felt all eyes on me, waiting for an explanation. I smiled nervously and took Travis’s hand into both of mine.

  “We’re just tired. We’ve been working all evening on the food,” I said, leaning my head against Travis’s shoulder.

  He looked down at our hands and then squeezed, his eyebrows pulling in a bit.

  “Speaking of tired, I’m exhausted,” I breathed. “I’m gonna head to bed, baby.” I looked to everyone else. “Good night, guys.”

  “Night, sis,” Jim said.

  Travis’s brothers all bade me goodnight, and I headed up the stairs.

  “I’m gonna turn in, too,” I heard Travis say.

  “I bet you are,” Trenton teased.

  “Lucky bastard,” Tyler grumbled.

  “Hey. We’re not going to talk about your sister like that,” Jim warned.

  My stomach sank. The only real family I’d had in years was America’s parents, and although Mark and Pam had always looked out for me with true kindness, they were borrowed. The six unruly, foulmouthed, loveable men downstairs had welcomed me with open arms, and tomorrow I would tell them goodbye for the last time.

  Travis caught the bedroom door before it closed and then froze. “Did you want me to wait in the hall while you dressed for bed?”

  “I’m going to hop in the shower. I’ll just get dressed in the bathroom.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “All right. I’ll make a pallet, then.”

  I nodded, making my way to the bathroom. I scrubbed myself raw in the dilapidated shower, focusing on the water stains and soap scum to fight the overwhelming dread I felt for both the night and the morning. When I returned to the bedroom, Travis dropped a pillow on the floor on his makeshift bed. He offered a weak smile before leaving me to take a turn in the shower.

  I crawled into bed, pulling the covers to my chest, trying to ignore the blankets on the floor. When Travis returned, he stared at the pallet with the same sadness that I did, and then turned off the light, situating himself on his pillow.

  It was quiet for a few minutes, and then I heard Travis heave a miserable sigh. “This is our last night together, isn’t it?”

  I waited a moment, trying to think of the right thing to say. “I don’t wanna fight, Trav. Just go to sleep.”

  Hearing him shift, I turned onto my side to look down at him, pressing my cheek into the pillow. He supported his head with his hand and stared into my eyes.

  “I love you.”

  I watched him for a moment. “You promised.”

  “I promised this wasn’t a stunt to get back together. It wasn’t.” He reached up his hand to touch mine. “But if it meant being with you again, I can’t say I wouldn’t consider it.”

  “I care about you. I don’t want you to hurt, but I should have followed my gut in the first place. It would’ve never worked.”

  “You did love me, though, right?”

  I pressed my lips together. “I still do.”

  His eyes glossed over and he squeezed my hand. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

  “I’m sort of in the middle of the last thing you asked me to do,” I said with a smirk.

  His features were taught, unaffected by my expression. “If this is really it…if you’re really done with me…will you let me hold you tonight?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Trav.”

  His hand gripped tight over mine. “Please? I can’t sleep knowing you’re just a foot away, and I’m never gonna get the chance again.”

  I stared into his desperate eyes for a moment and then frowned. “I’m not having sex with you.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not what I’m asking.”

  I searched the dimly lit room with my eyes, thinking about the consequences, wondering if I could tell Travis no if he changed his mind. I shut my eyes tight and then pushed away from the edge of the bed, turning down the blanket. He crawled into bed beside me, hastily pulling me tight into his arms. His bare chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, and I cursed myself for feeling so peaceful against his skin.

  “I’m going to miss this,” I said.

  He kissed my hair and pulled me to him. He seemed unable to get close enough to me. He buried his face in my neck and I rested my hand on his back in comfort, although I was just as heartbroken as he was. He sucked in a breath and pressed his forehead against my neck, pressing his fingers into the skin of my back. As miserable as we were the last night of the bet, this was much, much worse.

  “I…I don’t think I can do this, Travis.”

  He pulled me tighter and I felt the first tear fall from my eye down my temple. “I can’t do this,” I said, clenching my eyes shut.

  “Then don’t,” he said against my skin. “Give me another chance.”

  I tried to push myself out from under him, but his grip was too solid for any possibility of escape. I covered my face with both hands as my quiet sobs shook us both. Travis looked up at me, his eyes heavy and wet.

  With his large, gentle fingers, he pulled my hand away from my eyes and kissed my palm. I took a staggered breath as he looked at my lips and then back to my eyes. “I’ll never love anyone the way I love you, Pigeon.”

  I sniffed and touched his face. “I can’t.”

  “I know,” he said, his voice broken. “I never once convinced myself that I was good enough for you.”

  My face crumpled and I shook my head. “It’s not just you, Trav. We’re not good for each other.”

  He shook his head, wanting to say something but thinking better of it. After a long, deep breath, he rested his head against my chest. When the green numbers on the clock across the room read eleven o’clock, Travis’s breaths finally slowed and evened out. My eyes grew heavy, and I blinked a few times before slipping out of consciousness.

  “Ow!” I yelped, pulling my hand from the stove and automatically nursing the burn with my mouth.

  “You okay, Pidge?” Travis asked, shuffling across the floor and slipping a T-shirt over his head. “Shit! The floor’s fucking freezing!” I stifled a giggle as I watched him hop on one foot and then the other until the soles of his feet acclimated to the frigid tile.

  The sun had barely peeked through the blinds, and all but one of the Maddoxes were sleeping soundly in their beds. I pushed the antique tin pan further into the oven and then closed the door, turning to cool my fingers under the sink.

  “You can go back to bed. I just had to put the turkey in.”

  “Are you coming?” he asked, wrapping his arms around his chest to ward off the chill in the air.


  “Lead the way,” he said, sweeping his hand toward the stairs.

ravis yanked his shirt off as we both shoved our legs under the covers, pulling the blanket up to our necks. He tightened his arms around me as we shivered, waiting for our body heat to warm the small space between our skin and the covers.

  I felt his lips against my hair, and then his throat moved when he spoke. “Look, Pidge. It’s snowing.”

  I turned to face the window. The white flakes were only visible in the glow of the street lamp. “It kind of feels like Christmas,” I said, my skin finally warming up against his. He sighed and I turned to see his expression. “What?”

  “You won’t be here for Christmas.”

  “I’m here, now.” He pulled his mouth up on one side and leaned down to kiss my lips. I leaned back and shook my head. “Trav…”

  His grip tightened and he lowered his chin, his chestnut eyes determined. “I’ve got less than twenty-four hours with you, Pidge. I’m gonna kiss you. I’m gonna kiss you a lot today. All day. Every chance I get. If you want me to stop, just say the word, but until you do, I’m going make every second of my last day with you count.”

  “Travis—” I thought about it for a moment, and I reasoned that he was under no illusions about what would happen when he took me home. I had come there to pretend, and as hard as it would be for us both later, I didn’t want to tell him no.

  When he noticed me staring at his lips, the corner of his mouth turned up again, and he leaned down to press his soft mouth against mine. It began sweet and innocent, but the moment his lips parted, I caressed his tongue with mine. His body instantly tensed, and he took a deep breath in through his nose, pressing his body against me. I let my knee fall to the side and he moved above me, never taking his mouth from mine.

  He wasted no time undressing me, and when there was no more fabric between us, he gripped the iron vines of the headboard with both hands, and in one quick movement, he was inside me. I bit my lip hard, stifling the cry that was clawing its way up my throat. Travis moaned against my mouth, and I pressed my feet against the mattress, anchoring myself so I could raise my hips to meet his.

  One hand on the iron and the other on the nape of my neck, he rocked against me over and over, and my legs quivered with his firm, determined movements. His tongue searched my mouth, and I could feel the vibration of his deep groans against my chest as he kept to his promise to make our last day together memorable. I could spend a thousand years trying to block that moment from my memory, and it would still be burned into my mind.

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