10. Travis
Chapter 10
Travis
F or years I’ve believed that my wealth and status could shield me from the pain of heartbreak, but Rachel has shown me the truth. Her love, her feisty attitude, and the way she stood up to my mother busted through the walls I’d built around my heart, and now I can’t imagine my life without her.
I’m in love with her. Completely and irrevocably in love.
The realization lands like a ton of bricks, but a sense of peace rolls over me instead of fear or pain. Rachel sees me for who I am, not just a wealthy rancher with a big home and a bunch of land. She’s never once brought my financial status into the conversation. I trust her with my heart in a way I never thought I could after my first wife. I can only hope she loves me , a stubborn cowboy, just as much.
I know she’ll get home safe, so I stride back to the house, determination in each step. It’s time to make some changes, starting with my meddling mother. She’s been living in my home for far too long, and I’m done with her nonsense.
I find her in the gourmet kitchen, sipping a glass of sweet tea, like she didn’t chase away the woman of my dreams only moment before.
She looks up as I enter the room. “Travis, darling, what’s on your mind?” Her voice is smooth as honey, but I can hear the underlying edge. She expected this confrontation.
Leaning against large island, I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s time for you to leave, Mother. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I need my space back now. It’s time for you to go home.”
She sets her glass down with a sharp clink. “Now, Travis, let’s not be hasty. I’m your mother, and I only want what’s best for you.”
I shake my head. “What’s best for me is being with the woman I love, and that’s Rachel. I’m in love with her, and I won’t let anyone, not even you, come between us.”
Her lips thin into a tight line. “You’re not thinking clearly. That waitress isn’t suitable for someone of your status. She’s too young for you. You need?—”
“Stop!” I slam my hand down on the countertop, making her flinch, the sting radiating up my arm. “Rachel isn’t just some waitress. She’s going to be my wife.”
“Your wife?” Her voice rises a few octaves. “Don’t be ridiculous. You barely know her.”
My tone leaves no room for argument. “I agree, things have happened fast, but not at fast as you think. I feel like I know her better than anyone. And I’m telling you now—either accept Rachel as part of my life, or you won’t be in it at all.”
Mother’s face pales. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me,” I growl. “I love you, Mom, but I won’t let you sabotage my happiness. Not again.”
Her eyes widen, and she opens her mouth to deny whatever she thinks I’m about to say.
“I know you’re the one who pushed Hank and Amelia together.”
Her mouth snaps closed, and she averts her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m not stupid, Mother. And Hank was my best friend. He told me what happened.”
“He worked for you. And your father before. He was a ranch hand, nothing more.”
“We grew up together, Mom. He was my best friend. Did you not think he’d tell me about you paying him to sleep with my wife.”
“I didn?—”
I hold up a hand, stopping her. “Don’t bother denying it.”
“Fine. She was no good for you, Travis. She only wanted your money.”
“And you used my friend to ensure she didn’t get any.”
“He wasn’t much of a friend, apparently.”
I shake my head sadly. “He had gambling debts to pay off. And I think you knew that and took advantage of it.”
She glares at me. Not confirming or denying and we stand in silence for several minutes.
Then, to my surprise, she relaxes and lets out a soft sigh. “Maybe I have been too hard on her.” The fight drains from her voice as she turns and peers out the window over the sink. “I just... after Amelia, I didn’t want to see you hurt again.”
“Rachel’s not like Amelia.”
Mother’s gaze flicks back to me, and something looks like hope in her aging eyes. “I’ve always wanted you to find a woman who loves you for you, not your money or what you can give her. Someone strong, loving. A woman who can take care of herself.” She pauses, lips pursing as if tasting the words before letting them free. “Perhaps Rachel fits that bill.”
“She does, and more.”
“Then, I suppose I owe you—and her—an apology.” She takes a few tentative steps toward me, so I meet her halfway, and she wraps her arms around me—a rare gesture that lifts my heart.
The embrace stirs emotions I rarely feel because her approval means more than I care to admit. “Thank you,” I murmur into her hair. “That means everything.”
She pulls away and cups my face. “You’re my son, Travis. I just want to see you happy.”
Her touch, so gentle and maternal, reminds me of simpler times.
“Moving you back to the old place won’t change that,” I say, breaking the news.
Her brows knit together. “That tiny little thing?”
That tiny thing is where I grew up in. My father built it not long after he and Mother married. It had plenty of room for me and my siblings until we all started our own lives. Mom stayed in the house after Dad died and only moved into the one I built when Amelia split.
“It’s hardly tiny, Mother. It worked just fine for all of us when I was a kid. And I know you love it. Besides, it’s time we both have our own space again.” My voice is firm but gentle. “A space I soon hope to share with Rachel.”
The prospect of living with Rachel stirs a profound sense of anticipation in me. It’s more than just sharing a space—it’s about creating a life rooted in our dreams and realities.
“Ah.” A blush stains her cheeks as understanding dawns. “A newlywed’s home needs its privacy, I suppose.”
“Exactly.” I can’t help the smirk that creeps onto my face, imagining Rachel with me, turning the house into a home full of love and passion.
“All right then.” She laughs, and the sound is light is surprisingly free given the mood she’d been in lately. “I suppose this old lady can downsize. Do take care of that girl, Travis. She seems to be exactly what you need.”
“Trust me, I will.”
Once a decision has been made, nobody stands in Mother’s way. She quickly rounds up hands to help pack her things and move her back to the old homestead. Only a couple of hours later, she stands beside me on the porch with a box in her arms.
“Travis, I wish you every happiness with Rachel,” she says, setting the box down with finality on a chair. “Truly. And I will behave from now on. I promise.”
“Thanks, Mom.” My voice is gruff with emotion as I pull her into a hug. “That means a lot.”
As we part for the evening, she pats my cheek, another rare affectionate gesture. “Go on then,” she urges. “Go get the girl.”
I don’t have to be told twice. With one last look at the bustling scene, I hop into my truck, the engine roaring to life the moment I turn the key, and I drive out of there like a storm is on my tail, gravel spitting up behind me.
Farms flash past in a blur until I reach town and Rachel’s apartment building. Slamming the brakes, I park haphazardly outside, not giving a damn about how it looks. I bolt for the door, urgency pounding through my veins as fear swells with thoughts that she’s disappeared for good. I rap on Rachel’s door, hard and fast, desperate to see her.
The door swings open, and there she is, tears streaking her beautiful face, red nose and eyes and a trembling lip.
My heart aches at the sight, a physical pain that resonates deep in my chest, especially since I know I probably caused them by not acting quick enough when I overhead the hurtful things Mom said to her, but shock rooted me to the floor. Laura Kincaid has always been a force to be reckoned with, still the mama bear even though her children have been adults for years, but I’ve never heard her speak to anybody that way.
“Hey,” I murmur. I open my arms and Rachel runs into them, her body immediately melting against mine, fitting perfectly. It’s almost as if she were made for me.
I kiss her forehead and cheeks, tasting the salt of her tears. “I’m sorry for what my mother said.”
“I hope you know I’m not interested in your money.”
I brush a strand of hair from her face, my fingers gentle against her skin. “I never thought you were. I’m so sorry I didn’t step in sooner. For what it’s worth my mother realizes now she was wrong. She apologized and told me to follow my heart.” I take a deep breath. “And my heart led me straight to you. Rachel Anderson, I love you.”
The depth of emotion in her eyes makes my pulse quicken, a heady mix of love, desire, and raw need courses through my veins as images of our future play out in my mind. I can’t wait to show her just how much she means to me, to worship every inch of her soft curves, and to make her forget every hurt she’s ever experienced. I want to bask in her warmth, to kindle that flame until it consumes us both. One day, hopefully years from now, I’ll die a happy man as long as she’s by my side.
Rachel’s lips part in surprise, her gaze searching my face. “You love me?” she whispers, her voice trembling. “And your mother apologized?”
“Yup, and gave us her blessing.”
She stiffens before she tilts her head back to peer up at me. Those hazel eyes, red-rimmed and shining, meet mine. She presses her lips to mine in a kiss that blazes a path straight to my soul.
As always, the kiss quickly escalates, and Rachel’s fingers tangle in my hair as she presses her body tight to mine. Chest to chest, thigh to thigh. I taste the salt of her tears, feel the heat of her body, and breathe in her familiar floral scent. I slide my hands down her back to cup her ass, and the world falls away, leaving two souls finding their home in each other’s arms.
When we finally break apart, both breathless, I rest my forehead against hers.
Rachel trails a finger along my jawline; her touch is whisper gentle. “I love you too, Travis. God, I love you so much. I’m not here for your money or anything else. I don’t want any of that. I’m here for you—the stubborn, infuriating, wonderful man who’s stolen my heart in an amazingly short amount of time. I only need you.”
Pulling back slightly, I search her face. “I?—”
She presses a finger to my lips, silencing me. “I mean it. Your wealth, your ranch—they’re part of you, but they’re not why I fell in love with you. It’s the way you furrow your brow when you’re concentrating, how fiercely you protect what’s yours, the gentleness in your hands when you work with the horses and hold me tight. Do you know I noticed you that very first shift when you came in and sat in that back booth? You scared me. That’s why I switched tables with Daisy.”
“I would never hurt you.”
“Oh, I wasn’t scared you’d hurt me, Travis. I was scared I’d fall in love with you.”
Her words sink into the depths of my soul, filling the cracks and crevices I thought would forever remain empty. At that moment, the fortress I’d built around my heart crumbles to dust. Rachel sees me, truly sees me, in a way no one else ever has. Not as a wealthy rancher or a successful businessman, but simply as a man. A man who’s found a love that consumes him.
With this beautiful woman in my arms, I finally feel complete. Whole. She’s my missing puzzle piece, her soft curves molding to the hard planes of my body perfectly.
“Pack your things. You’re moving in with me,” I say, my voice leaving no room for argument.
Her eyes widen, a mix of astonishment and resistance flaring up to argue with me. “Travis, I can’t just?—”
Her place is cramped and dimly lit. The walls are paper-thin, and the carpet is worn to threads in places. The floor scuffed. It’s no place for her—a woman of warmth and dreams larger than this small town can hold. Besides, when she screams my name, I don’t want the neighbors to hear or the delivery men to come knocking.
“Non-negotiable.”
I untangle myself from her arms and wander further into her tiny apartment heading straight to the kitchen area. I reach out, unplugging her mini fridge with a firm tug, and turn to her with a teasing glint in my eye. “You’re coming with me, or the cheese gets it.”
A laugh bubbles up from her throat, and the tears dry. She surrenders with a shake of her head, the tension draining away. I help Rachel pack a bag and promise to return for the rest of her things. Then I take her hand, and the block of cheese from the fridge, and we leave the little apartment behind.
As I lead her to my parked truck, the evening breeze meets us with a gentle caress. I open the passenger door, and give her the boost she needs to climb in. When I slide into the driver’s seat, a sense of peace rolls over me.
The drive back to the ranch seems endless, but when we arrive, I park and sprint around the hood to help her. Her hand in mine has never felt so right, and I can’t even stop the smile curving my lips.
As we walk through the front door, I watch as her eyes take in the sweeping grandeur of my home—the high vaulted ceilings, the exposed wooden beams, and the two sided-stone fireplace that dominates the living room and kitchen. Plush leather furniture invites comfort, while giant windows frame views of the sprawling land that has been in my family for generations. Local Western art adorns the walls, alongside family photos that tell the Kincaid’s story.
“Wow, Travis, it’s stunning,” she whispers, her voice filled with awe.
“Wait until you see the bedroom.” I can’t wait to show her the bedroom, the first room I redecorated after my ex-wife left.
The room has soft, earthy tones and textures. A massive king-sized bed commands the space, the wrought iron frame intricate and bold in contrast to the quilted coverlet. Wood flooring gleams under the warm glow of matching bedside lamps and heavy dark brown curtains can be drawn to shut out the world.
“This is...” She trails off as if unable to find the words.
“Ours,” I finish for her, pulling her close.
“What about your mother?”
“She’s moved back to the old family house.”
Rachel leans back. “Wait. This isn’t your family home?”
“No, sweetheart. I built this place. Once I knew I’d be taking over the ranch one day, I started making plans to have my own place. The family home is on another part of the property. My mother will be staying there from now on. And don’t worry, it’s far enough way that she won’t just saunter over when she feels like it.”
“Oh.”
Collectively, we agree to no more talking. Our lips collide in a passionate, hungry, and demanding kiss, and we can’t keep our hands from taking their own journey. We slowly make our way over to the bed, ditching our clothing along the way. When we tumble onto the mattress, we’re breathing heavily and ready to consummate this new relationship.
The sensation of Rachel beneath my fingertips makes me harder than I’d ever been, her flesh soft and yielding to my touch. We move together with zealous urgency, exploring each other enthusiastically. Working ourselves up and slowing down to start over again. Time means nothing as we rock gently together, reveling in our new-found connection.
Rachel’s breathless whisper caresses my ear. “Travis...”
My heart gallops at the sound of my name on her lips. “Rachel, I love you.”
I retreat slightly, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and parted lips. My thumb traces the curve of her jaw, loving the softness of her skin.
Her gaze is fixed on mine with a force that makes my heart soar.
“You’re so beautiful, inside and out. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have found you.” I press a tender kiss on her forehead.
Rachel’s hands slide down my chest, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “I love you, too. All of you, every inch, every fact. Everything I’ve done in the past, every heartbreak, every decision, has all been necessary to bring me to this very moment. All of it was for you.”
Stilling in my thrusts, I cup her face, overwhelmed by the emotions surging through me. The world narrows as we lay wrapped in each other’s arms, our bodies joined.
“I never thought I’d feel this way again,” I admit quietly.
Her expression is dreamy. “I’m glad you took a chance on me, cowboy.”
I hug her tightly, relishing the feel of her naked body against mine. “Best decision I ever made.”
Our lips meet again; this time, the urgency from before is transformed into something more profound. Rachel’s hands skim my back as I kiss along her neck, enjoying her soft sighs and tiny hums. The scent of her skin fills my senses. The tender looks, the gentle touches, the whispered words of affection—all of it weaves together to create something beautiful and rare. The rest of the world fades into insignificance.
I slowly start moving faster, deepening each stroke into her body, and she groans in pleasure. In Rachel’s arms, I know with certainty that this is where I belong.
We’re both close. We’re trembling, panting, and when we pause, chests heaving, foreheads touching as we share the same air, we stare into each other’s eyes.
“I think it’s time to get you some real cowboy boots, honey. I think you’re finally home.”
Her sweet surrender seals our future forever.