7. Rachel
Chapter 7
Rachel
M ere steps from my apartment building front door, I fish in my purse for my keys, but something stops me. My gaze drifts over my shoulder, back to Travis’s truck still idling at the curb, his silhouette visible through the windshield.
“Damn it.”
The keys jangle, forgotten as I drop them back into the depths of my bag. Turning, I head back, my steps quickening as warmth unfurls in my belly, spreading outward until even my fingertips tingle. I wrench open the passenger door, surprising him, and hop up into the seat beside him. His comforting scent immediately wraps around me.
“Rachel?” His voice sounds rough, and he’s obviously confused. “You forget something?”
“Nope. I just missed you. Now kiss me, cowboy.”
Even though I ordered him to do it, I can’t wait. I lean over the console and press my lips to his with a ferocity that makes us both groan. My fingers tangle in his graying hair, pulling him closer as our mouths move together. The contact is hot, desperate, filled with all the lust and hunger overwhelming me.
Travis uses his fingers to gently trace the curve of my spine through the thin fabric of my dress, and I cling to him, hungry for more than just the scorching contact of our lips or his hands on my back. I want him next to me, over me, inside of me.
“What are you doing to me?” he whispers.
“Hmmm…” With my eyes closed in bliss, I nip along his jawline.
A loud bang shatters the moment, the sound ricocheting through the truck’s cab like a gunshot. Screaming, I jerk back, my heart hammering against my ribs. Panic claws at my throat. Somebody is pounding their fist against the passenger-side window, and it’s attached to a large figure looming outside. Squinting, my eyes narrow as they focus on the man behind the intrusion.
Matt?
He looks bigger in the dark. Meaner. His normally pressed shirt is wrinkled, his tie is missing. His dark hair, always so meticulously styled, is standing at all angles, a mess. His dull grey eyes, as he peers through the window, are like chips of ice, devoid of warmth, making calculations that send a shudder down my spine as he stares at me.
“Who the fuck is that?” Travis growls next to me, his arm instinctively pulling me closer.
“My ex-boyfriend.” The words taste like acid on my tongue. “But I have no idea what he’s doing here. Or how he found me.”
Matt’s presence feels alien against the backdrop of rustic buildings, and the comfortable silene of neighborhood now that dusk as passed. Businesses here shut down in the evening. People are at home with their families having dinner and settling in for the night. He looks deranged and out of place, invading my safe space.
My chest tightens as I stare back, reminded of everything that we went wrong when he was in my life.
“What does he want?” Travis’s voice cuts through my swirling thoughts with its low timbre.
Shaking my head, I try to dislodge the dread that has settled there. “I don’t know, but it can’t be good.” We didn’t split on good terms. I told him I was leaving. He said I couldn’t. I left knowing he’d be pissed. I just never imagined he’d come after me.
Travis’s hand finds mine, squeezing it with a firmness that promises protection. His calmness is a balm to my fraying nerves but also hints at something possessive, something territorial, but not in a menacing way like it was with Matt.
Taking a shaky breath, I steel myself for what’s coming.
“Stay in the truck,” he orders.
“This is my mess to deal with.”
“Rachel…”
“Please, Travis.” Knowing he’ll be at my side if I need him is enough to bolster my courage. Before he can stop me, I hop out of the truck and shut the door.
I step onto the sidewalk, my heart pounding as I face Matt. The burden of our history presses down on me, but I refuse to let it crush me. I can’t stop my legs from wobbling a bit, though. Refusing to allow him to sense weakness, I lock my knees. I’ve spent too long letting him dictate my emotions and reactions. This time will be different.
I clench my fists. “Why are you here, Matt? What do you want? How did you even find me?” I keep my voice level, working hard to keep it strong, fighting to maintain composure.
He sneers, and I can smell alcohol from where I stand. It’s almost as though he bathed in it. “I’m here because you thought you could just walk away from everything we built together.”
I almost laugh, yet his words twist inside me like a knife. The only thing Matt ever built was a prison of doubt and fear around me. He never laid a finger on me, but the underlying threat became more intolerable day after day.
“We didn’t build anything, Matt. You tore me down.”
“Oh, stop whining.” Matt rolls his eyes before pushing his shoulders back. “I made you better. A better executive assistant, a better girlfriend, a better woman. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have even had your job. And this is how you repay me? By running off to play house with some hick?”
Anger flares hot in my chest. How dare he? After everything he put me through, he still thinks he has the right to judge my choices? His audacity makes me want to scream, but I hold it in. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose control.
The old Rachel might have cowered, but I plant my feet firmly. “Travis is twice the man you’ll ever be.”
“Travis?” Matt spits the name like it’s poison on his tongue. “You left me for a goddamn cowboy in Poe Dunk, Texas named Travis? Fuck, and look at how you’re dressed. I know your mother taught you about clothing and hair and makeup. Jesus Christ. I guess Travis doesn’t give a rat’s ass if you dress frumpy.”
I shrink under his gaze, for a moment falling back into old patterns. But then I think of Travis, of his quiet strength. It steadies me, reminding me of who I’m becoming—who I want to be. Besides, Travis likes my dress.
“I left you because you’re toxic, Matt. Travis has nothing to do with it.”
Matt’s face contorts with rage. “Don’t you dare try to rewrite our history. You were nothing before me, Rachel. Nothing.”
His words sting, but I refuse to let him see how they affect me. I remind myself that he had nothing to do with me getting that job. I was assigned to his office, that’s it. He took it from there. I was just stupid enough to fall for it.
“You’re wrong. I was everything before you. I just forgot it for a while.”
“Oh, that’s cute. Did your therapist teach you that line? Or was it the cowpoke?”
Behind me, the truck door opens, but I hold up a hand, silently willing Travis to stay put. This is my battle. The door shuts, but I don’t turn to see if he’s in or out of the truck.
Matt glances over my shoulder, confirming for me that Travis did indeed leave the vehicle. “Oh, I get it now. You could only find a ranch hand old enough to be your father. That makes more sense. Old guy like him probably likes his chicks young and naive.”
That’s enough. I’m done with this bullshit. I put my hands on my hips, tip my chin up, and take a confident step forward. “You know what, Matt? I don’t owe you any explanations. You need to leave. Now.”
Matt’s laugh is cold and bitter. “Leave? I just got here, sweetheart. We have lots to catch up on.”
“There’s nothing to catch up on. We’re done.”
“We’re done when I say we’re done.” He moves closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “You think you can just walk away from me, sweetheart? Start over with some small-town nobody?”
The unmistakable sound of boots scraping on asphalt sound behind me. Then I feel the heat of his body warming my back, quieting the quakes that are starting inside.
“Get the hell out of my town, Matt. You’re not welcome here.”
Matt’s face twists with fury. “You ungrateful bitch. After everything I did for you?—”
“That’s it—” Travis starts, his body immediately tensing, but I cut in before he unleashes his rage on Matt.
“You did nothing for me!” The words explode out of my mouth, years of pent-up anger finally finding release. “You manipulated me, isolated me, made me doubt myself at every turn. You tried to make me into somebody different because you didn’t like or appreciate me as me. But I’m done letting you, or my mother for that matter, control my life. This is who I am. Get over it.”
“Control your life?” He laughs bitterly. “I gave your life meaning. Without me, you’re just another small-town waitress with delusions of grandeur.”
How the hell does he know that? How the hell did he find me?
His words hit their mark, but I refuse to let him see how much they hurt. “Better a waitress with self-respect than whatever the hell I was with you.”
His nostrils flare. “You think you’re better off now?” He scoffs. “We both know you’ll come crawling back when this old man tires of you and finds some young bar bitch to fuck.” In the shadows cast by the streetlights, Matt’s eyes glint with malice. “You think you’re so fucking strong with him behind you like that, don’t you? The man doesn’t even have the balls to step out from behind your skirts.”
Behind me, Travis growls like an animal, and his arm comes up, but I quickly rest my hand over it, stopping him.
I love that he wants to do battle for me. A surge of strength, fueled by the realization that Matt’s words no longer hold power over me, rolls through me and I feel my chest puff out. “I’m sure Travis is waiting for me to give him the word, Matt. But unlike you, he respects me. He knows this is between you and me.” The evening air is cooling, and it nips at my skin. “Get the hell out of here, Matt. I mean it. I never want to see you again.”
He makes a move, invading my personal space, confirming the alcohol has become his superpower tonight. Between the stench of his drinking and his cloying cologne, my stomach churns.
“Or what?” He says. “You’ll sic your new boy toy on me?” He jerks his head at Travis. “Tell me, dude, do you know what a frigid bitch she really is?”
This time, instead of shrinking away, defiance surges. “Fuck you,” I spit, shoving him hard in the chest. Hard enough that he stumbles back multiple steps. “You don’t get to talk about me like that anymore. You don’t get to talk to me at all.” Each word sweeps through me, like breaking free from invisible chains. Rage courses through me, hot and fierce. I spent far too much time under his thumb. But not anymore.
Matt surprises me by jumping forward and grabbing my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh.
Before I can even react, Travis emerges from behind like a force of nature. In the glow of the streetlights, he towers over Matt, his broad shoulders and imposing height making Matt back up, but he doesn’t back down, and he still has hold of my arm.
“This is none of your business, cowboy. Why don’t you mosey on back to your ranch and leave us city folk to sort out our own problems?”
Travis’s jaw clenches, and a muscle ticks in his cheek. His eyes are big and dark and bursting with anger. “Rachel made it crystal fucking clear she wants nothing to do with you. I’ve stood here and listened to you insult her, and me, for longer than I liked. And as she says, this is her fight. But not anymore, because now I’m making it mine. Take your fucking hand off her before I break it.”
His tone is downright frosty, so it can only be the warmth of the alcohol that keeps Matt going.
“Oh, I get it.” Matt snorts in derision. “You think you’re her knight in shining armor, don’t you? Well, let me tell you?—”
“Enough!” Travis cuts him off, his voice sharp as a whip crack. “The only thing I need to know about Rachel is that she deserves far better than an asshole like you. Remove your fucking hand. Now.”
Warmth blooms in my chest at Travis’s words. His defense of me, so fierce and protective, touches something deep inside. It isn’t about needing a savior. It’s about having someone who sees my worth when I’ve forgotten how to see it myself.
“The only way you’ll ever breathe in Rachel’s presence again,” Travis says through gritted teeth, moving right up to Matt’s face, “will be through a straw. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear—city boy?”
The threat hangs in the air, heavy and palpable. Matt’s face pales, his bravado faltering for the first time. He looks from Travis to me, then back again, as if weighing his options. Finally, he releases me and begins his retreat, before raising his hands in mock surrender. As he turns to leave, the last remnants of his hold over me dissolve.
Only after Matt gets into what must be a rental car and drives away does Travis turn to me, his expression softening with concern. “Are you okay?”
I nod, rubbing my arm where Matt had grabbed me. “I will be.”
“You did good, sweetheart,” he says softly. “You stood up to him. That takes guts.”
His words, simple as they are, fill me with a sense of pride and strength I haven’t felt in years. I stood my ground with Matt for myself, not for anyone else’s approval. And that realization? It feels like the first breath of fresh air after being underwater for too long.
I glance up at Travis, really look at him, and see not just the wealthy rancher or the brooding cowboy, but a man who genuinely cares about me. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “For being here, for standing up for me. And most especially, for not standing in front of me until it became necessary.”
Travis shakes his head. “You don’t need to thank me for that. Ever.”
Now that the entertainment for the evening is over, a rush of adrenaline leaves me shaky. I retrieve my purse from the truck and fumble for my phone, suddenly wanting to check it. As I scroll through the notifications, my stomach drops. Missed calls and frantic texts from Mom flood the screen.
“Shit,” I mutter, my hands trembling as I scan the messages.
Travis leans closer. “What’s wrong?”
I swallow roughly, trying to keep my voice steady. “I wondered how he found me. He contacted my mother, demanding to know where I work and live. She must have told him. That’s probably why she came, but she didn’t say anything.”
Travis’s jaw hardens, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The fury in his eyes is barely containable, like a volcano on the brink of eruption. His voice is low and controlled, but I can hear the rage. “That son of a bitch.” I watch as he takes a deep breath, his broad shoulders rising and falling with the effort to calm himself. When he speaks again, his voice is resolute. “First, you should call your mother and make sure she’s okay. Although, I’m pissed she didn’t warn you. Then, we need to talk.”
He’s right. We do need to talk, and while I’m bracing myself for whatever is coming next, I dial my mother’s number, for once relieved to hear her voice.
Travis waits quietly by the side of his truck while I talk to her, but I don’t miss the alertness in his stance or the way he looks up and down the street.
“Please, Mom, don’t accept any calls from Matt again. I don’t want him showing up here anymore. I just want to move on with my life.”
“I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t realize he’d race to Cupid’s Creek to get you back.”
“He doesn’t want me back, Mom. He was drunk and a total asshole. Please believe me when I tell you, he’s no good. No for me or any woman for that matter. Just ignore him. Please.”
We say our goodbyes, and I tuck my phone back into my purse.
Travis runs a hand through his hair, his gaze intense as he stares at me. “This thing between us... it’s not fake anymore, Rachel. Hasn’t been for a while. Probably even before we started the charade. But tonight cements it. I want you by my side, Rachel. I want to protect you. Or at least stand beside you while you fight for yourself. Will you please let me?”
My heart thunders in my chest, and then a surge of relief washes over me, followed by a rush of happiness so insane it nearly knocks me off my feet.
I reach for his hand, feeling the roughness of his skin against my palm. “Yes,” I whisper, the word barely audible.
His expression softens, and the corners of his mouth turn up slightly. “Let’s go inside.”
Like the gentleman he is, he walks me to the building and opens the door for me. I lead him up the creaky stairs to my tiny studio apartment, but when I fumble with the keys again, he takes them from me and opens that door too. We step over the threshold, and I suddenly feel self-conscious about my sparse living conditions compared to his mansion-like ranch house. A full-sized bed dominates one corner, its sheets rumpled and unmade. A scuffed oval table with two wooden chairs serves as a dining area and workspace. The kitchenette is bare bones, lacking even a full-sized fridge. I don’t even have any living room furniture.
Travis’s gaze sweeps the room, taking in every detail. I wait for judgment, pity, or even laughter, but find none in his eyes when they meet mine.
This isn’t how I imagined him seeing my place for the first time. I had pictured candles, wine, and maybe some soft music. Not this mess. But the way he looks at me... It’s like none of it matters. I’m the only thing he sees in between these four walls.
“It’s not much,” I gesture vaguely. “But it’s home. For now, anyway. I plan to find a larger place once I have money saved from my job.”
Travis steps into my personal space. “It’s perfect,” he murmurs in my ear, his voice sexy and gruff.
How does he always manage to say exactly the right thing? It’s infuriating and irresistible all at once. Heat radiates off his body, and the earthy fragrance of his cologne mixed with leather and hay surrounds me. It’s pure Travis, and it makes my head spin. I want to bury my face in his chest and breathe him in.
He cups my cheek, his thumb brushing gently across my skin. “Rachel,” he breathes, my name a prayer on his lips.
The tenderness in his touch nearly breaks me. How long has it been since someone has looked at me like that? Since I’d felt cherished?
Tilting my face up, I meet his gaze. The passion I find blazing in his eyes steals my breath.
Slowly, giving me every chance to pull away, he lowers his head. Our lips meet in a tender kiss that sparks life into every cell in my body, and I melt into him, my hands fisting in his shirt.
Travis wraps his arms around me, pulling me flush against his hard, lean body. I don’t give a damn that he’s older than me. This man is in better shape than many half his age.
He deepens the kiss, pent-up desire and unspoken feelings pouring out between us. Maybe he was right. These feelings between us have been there for months. It doesn’t matter that we didn’t talk, that I avoided serving him when he came into the diner. Every one of those days have simply been the precursor to tonight.
I nip at his bottom lip, eliciting a low moan that spreads heat low in my belly. His taste, his touch, his solid warmth. I love all of him. I should probably pinch myself to avoid imagining any of it.
Slowly, almost reverently, he removes my dress, boots, and socks until I’m standing before him in nothing but lacy pink underwear.
“You’re so beautiful.”
A tremble works its way through my body. I tug at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine.
He obliges, raising his arms so I can pull it over his head.
Finally, my hands are on his body, exploring the planes of his muscular chest as his lips find a sensitive spot on my neck.
I gasp when he sucks gently on my pulse point.
He walks us backward until my legs hit the bed and I fall onto the mattress, pulling him down with me. But I only revel in the feel of his weight for a moment before he pushes up onto his elbows, his gaze darting back and forth between my chest and my face.
This is it—the moment I’ve longed for. Travis’s solid presence above me feels so right, but a nagging voice can’t stop the whispers in the back of my mind. Can I truly trust him? Or am I setting myself up for more heartbreak?
“Are you sure about this, honey?” he asks, his voice husky with desire.
I slowly nod, unable to form words.
Travis’s lips claim mine again as he shifts and slides one hand into the waistband of my panties.
I lift my hips so he can peel the fabric down my legs until I can kick them free. For my part, I fumble with his belt buckle, my fingers clumsy in my eagerness.
Travis chuckles intimately and helps me. Then he stands so he can pull off his boots and his jeans. Soon, we’re skin to skin, hands and lips exploring.
The feel of his rough work-ready hands on my bare skin sends electricity coursing through me. I want to memorize every touch, every sensation. He’s tender, unhurried, almost worshipful. His touch is reverent as if detailing every curve and dip of my body. I gasp and moan under every caress, every touch of his fingers, his tongue, his lips, lost in a haze of pleasure as he takes his time discovering me.
When he finally leaves me to retrieve a condom from his wallet, we’re both breathing heavily and damp with sweat. Our eyes are hazy with passion, and our fingers tremble.
Travis climbs back onto the bed, and I spread wide to welcome him.
“I don’t think I can take this slow, honey.”
“I don’t want slow, Travis. I want you just as much as you want me.”
He settles between my thighs, and I lift my legs, wrapping them around his hips. He wastes no time lining up and drives deep with long, sure strokes designed to drive me wild. He dips his head to take my nipple into his mouth, and sucks, drawing a cry from my lips.
Reaching for him, I dig my nails into his shoulders. I can’t believe we’re joined together, but the feeling is indescribable.
We move as one, our bodies finding a perfect tempo like we’ve done this thousands of times. A pace that pushes us both toward an explosive climax.
“Rachel.” Travis groans, his forehead pressed to mine. “God, you feel amazing.”
I’m overwhelmed by the intensity of our connection and find myself speechless. As the tension builds, his movements became urgent, and still, I meet him thrust for thrust. I slide my hands down his back to his ass and squeeze as we chase our release together.
When he slips one hand down between us and rubs my clit, it only takes a moment from that sensitive touch before it finally washes over me. I cry out his name as stars burst behind my closed eyelids, and my body bucks, my back arching tight.
Travis pounds into me, sweat rolling down the side of his face as he finds his own release a moment later.
The world narrows to just us—as we come down from our high, the dampness cooling on our skin, and I cling to Travis, torn between the urge to guard my heart and the desire to let go completely.
It would be so easy to fall in love with this man.