Chapter 8 Joey
EIGHT
JOEY
“We’re gonna be late if you spend much longer in there,” Trav called out from where he waited in the living room sprawled on the sofa we’d purchased after a few days of realizing having nothing to sit on wasn’t going to cut it.
“I’m almost ready!” Nervous anticipation fluttered through me.
It was the night of the Friday the 13th Valentine’s party at Jack’s Lemon Drop Social Club. Travis and I had worked our asses off since arriving back in Haven Grove, and we were both ready to get dressed up, mingle with friends and neighbors, and have some fun.
Well, I was ready to get dressed up. I think Trav was just ready for cake and cocktails.
So far, over the weeks we’d been home, we’d tackled the campground’s laundry room, the showers, and the faulty utility hookups at several of the RV parking spaces.
We’d repaired almost every picnic table on the property, renovated the campfire sites, and replaced the front door on the bait and tackle shop.
Most importantly, we’d had the DNR come out and safely remove the snakes before a scrap yard sent someone to take the RV for parts.
During our long days of working, we’d also caught each other up on what we’d been doing in the decade since we left Haven Grove.
Travis was pissed I’d been so miserable in the job with my father but somewhat amused I’d been engaged to a woman.
I didn’t think I was imagining a flare of jealousy when he realized I’d been with other guys.
Not that he thought I’d remained that inexperienced teen from way back, just that he likely hadn’t given much thought to what I’d been doing in the bedroom department.
I hung on every word as Travis regaled me with stories of his time in the military. I probably failed miserably in keeping the monster-green shine out of my eyes when he admitted he’d fucked around with a variety of genders after joining the military.
Had I known Travis was possibly not straight after that disastrous summer, I likely would have worked harder to reconnect.
Or driven myself insane thinking about him falling for someone else.
But the hours we spent catching up were the perfect building blocks for our present and our future.
The foundation of our friendship had suffered some damage, but the cornerstones stood strong and solid.
Each hour we spent together, each repair we made to our family business, each story we shared strengthened what we’d started building so many years ago.
The one problem was we didn’t point-blank address the elephant in the room.
Although, I did appreciate Trav’s apology, things still had that up-in-the-air vibe.
In addition to things we still needed to air out from the past, there were still fishing docks to repair, several outbuildings and various items needing painted, and about five million other jobs ranging from huge to little odds and ends to do around the property.
But it was Valentine’s Day weekend, and I was ready to forget about campground repairs for at least an evening.
I’d already caught a glimpse of Travis in his dark jeans, black work boots, and black button-up. It was a simple choice, but it was Travis through-and-through. With a final glance in the mirror, I figured I was as good as I was going to get.
When I made my way to the living room, Ward moved from killing Travis with his eyes to purr and rub against my ankles. Black jeans, a fitted berry colored sweater with black hearts, and black dress boots made up my outfit for the night.
Travis’s low whistle caught my attention and went straight to my belly.
The flush of his cheeks made me think he maybe hadn’t meant to whistle out loud.
“What?” I asked, not wanting to sound like I was fishing for compliments, but definitely wanting to hear what he was thinking.
The whole time we’d been back had featured themes of hard work, lots of laughter, fun flirting, and much anticipated nighttime cuddles.
At first, I’d worried Travis would be annoyed with the way I couldn’t seem to stay on my side of the bed, but I quickly figured out he migrated toward me just the same.
Some things—many things—hadn’t changed.
Part of me wanted to just fling myself at him and beg him to love me, but the other part of me reminded myself he’d been flirty, he’d apologized for the past, and he’d definitely shown interest.
At least, I thought he had.
He’d let me sleep plastered against him.
He’d held me in the dead of night.
But he hadn’t actually come out and said he felt anything more than friendship for me.
“You look good,” he muttered. He cleared his throat and repeated, “You look really good.”
“Thanks.” My cheeks burned, but the butterflies in my stomach were squealing in delight.
“Makes me think of that dance we went to our junior year.”
I cocked my head, remembering. “Why?”
Travis stood up and shrugged. “You looked really good then.” He moved closer, his fresh, clean scent surrounding us. “You look even better now.”
It’s too soon ran on a loop in my head, but my heart pushed back with It’s been close to two decades of knowing and loving each other in one way or another; you two are like the slowest slow burn in the history of slow burns.
Ward hissed.
Travis cursed.
Ward meowed.
The cat was gorgeous, but he truly had one of the loudest, angriest meows I’d ever heard.
“Let’s get to the party.” Travis glared at Ward. “The company here is one-third shitty.”
The entire Riggs crew greeted us when we walked into the Roadhouse for Jack’s party. In addition to the six of them, there seemed to be at least half the population of Haven Grove at the event. Beer, soda, cocktails, and mocktails were flowing. Appetizers and desserts were plentiful.
And I realized with a burn in my throat and sting in my eyes that this was the beginning of the rest of our lives.
Together.
We’d been at the Roadhouse for about an hour when the call came in. Travis excused himself from the table where we were enjoying a mixture of delicious Halloween and Valentine’s Day drinks and cakes while we played a card game and laughed with people we were quickly coming to think of as friends.
Travis frowned as he returned to the table.
“What is it?” His eyes told me he was more annoyed than worried, but I was still concerned.
“One of our year-round campers says the bathroom facility is flooded and water is actively running over from somewhere.” He placed a hand on my shoulder, and I immediately gripped it, not minding at all every eye within five feet of us noticed the exchange—the majority already thought we were together. “If you want to stay—”
“No, I’ll come with,” I said, standing.
“I can work on it and come back to get you,” Travis suggested. “Or someone can bring you home.”
My chest squeezed tightly with the word home, but I shook my head. “No. It’s both our responsibility. We’ll both go and get it fixed.”
Travis gave a quick nod. I knew he would have preferred I stayed since we were having such a good time, but he wasn’t upset I was going home with him. We made a good team when it came to fixing things around the campsite.
Thirty minutes later, we were in work clothes standing in a cold, flooded bathroom in the middle of the campground. If cussing could have produced heat, we would have been toasty warm.
Luckily, the pipe that burst had been an easy one to get to, and it hadn’t required calling true professionals.
We’d turned off the main supply of water and got a replacement from the work shed.
One thing Pete had always taught us was to “keep spare and repair items on hand” and the advice had come in handy.
With the pipe replaced, we started in on the job of sweeping the water out the door with push brooms.
“Whatcha thinkin’?” Travis asked as our booted feet sloshed through the water.
“Not exactly how I thought I’d spend Valentine’s Day this year.”
“Well, luckily, it’s not Valentine’s Day yet,” Travis answered with his damn cocky grin and a wink.
“You know what I mean.”
“Having second thoughts?”
Cocking a brow, I asked, “About what?”
He gestured around us. “This. I’m not saying every holiday will be cut short due to business issues, but we both know this is a big job. A full-time job. If you want out—”
“Shut up,” I said with a nudge of my elbow. “This is all I’ve ever wanted to do, and you know it.” Then I thought about what he’d said. “Wait, do you want out? Are you thinking about selling?”
For a split second, I feared his silence and the far-off look in his eyes.
But Travis shook his head. “No. I can’t even imagine being anywhere but here doing anything but this right here. With you.”
My heart melted. “Me too.”
Travis gave a nod. “So, how did you think you’d spend Valentine’s Day?”
I shrugged, probably looking like a petulant child. “Kinda thought I’d spend it with someone,” I muttered.
“Who?” The word was thick on his tongue.
“You know who…” I whispered. We were shoulder to shoulder by that point, having moved closer to each other as we spoke. Not as close as when we slept cuddled together, but I easily could have leaned in and brushed my lips to his.
“We’re together,” Travis teased, his gaze traveling from my eyes to my mouth and back again.
“Wasn’t planning on being ankle deep in shit water.” I huffed.
Just as I was about to give in and risk it all—again—a yowl shattered the silence around us. At the door, two glowing eyes glared condemnation our way.
“That fuckin’ cat,” Travis growled.
With the moment interrupted, we went back to sweeping out the water.
It was for the best. No one wants to make out in cold toilet water.
Travis took his shower while I gave Ward some loving. When I walked into the bedroom fresh from the steamy bathroom, Travis gripped me around the waist, spun me around, and closed the door behind us.
“So the cat can’t get in,” he explained with a wicked waggle of his brow.
I probably should have questioned what was happening the cat couldn’t see.
Or why he was holding me so close.
But my brain short-circuited the moment his skin met mine, and I stood there in his arms, just enjoying the contact.
“I think you should kiss me,” Travis whispered, his lips feathering over my cheek.
Oh my god.
I’d fallen in the shower and hit my head.
I was unconscious and dreaming.
That had to be it.
“Joe—” Travis murmured against my cheek.
His lips were warm and soft, his breath tickled, and I smelled the scent of soap clinging to his skin.
Okay, so this was real.
“What?”
“I think you should kiss me,” Travis repeated.
“The last time I kissed you, you punched me and broke my nose,” I said flatly.
Trav winced. “The last time you kissed me, I was a punk-ass kid who didn’t know how to deal with the fact he was in love with his best friend.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose. “I’m sorry for punching you.”
How long had I waited for this moment?
“Maybe that punk-ass kid should be the one making decisions about kissing me this time instead of the other way around,” I said, trying to keep it light, but serious unsureness filling my belly.
Travis shifted, took my face in his hands, and brought my eyes up to meet his.
“Joey, I wanted that kiss back then. Just as much as I wanted to love you. I was young and stupid, and I didn’t know what to do with all those feelings.
I knew I loved you, knew I wanted to kiss you and a lot more, if I’m being honest. It was accepting what all of it meant.
Figuring out what it meant for me, for us, outside of our little bubble.
” His lips were warm against my forehead, and he lingered there for a moment.
“It shouldn’t have taken me this long to talk to you about this.
I’m so sorry I didn’t have the words or the maturity back then to talk to you about what I was feeling.
I don’t know what would have happened if I’d kissed you back, but I regret the way things played out—even if it was maybe for the best we went off and lived our lives for a while. ”
“Trav?”
“Yeah?”
“You know I’ve always loved you, right?”
He smirked. “Yeah, I know. I’ve always loved you too.”
“Then can I be completely honest with you?”
“Of course.”
“I’m still waiting on that punk-ass kid to kiss me.”
I saw fire and amusement in his eyes the split second before his mouth was on mine. Ten years of longing, regret, and wondering what kissing my best friend would have been like if he hadn’t hauled off and punched me went up in sweet, hot flames.
Travis Dean kissed me like a man making up for lost time, like he could pour every last bit of his sorrow into the heat between us to patch up any remaining cracks in our foundation. His lips were strong and sure but, just like he’d always been with me, tender as well.
When we finally broke for air, he kept our faces close, his hands still cradling my head. With his eyes closed and a soft smile on his face, Travis chuckled. “Pretty sure it wouldn’t have been like that even if I hadn’t punched you back then.”
I laughed. “Definitely not. We’d likely just eaten garlic chips or pizza, and we were definitely sweaty from clearing whatever mess Pete and John had us working on.”
Travis brushed a thumb over my lips. “I don’t like the way things played out back then, but I’m not upset we got some time to figure ourselves out before we tried this.”
Then he froze.
“What?” I asked.
“We are, right? Trying this?”
Tears stung my eyes. “We damn sure better be trying this. I didn’t come back to Haven Grove just to steal your breakfast and take over a bait shop.”
His face split into a grin. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, hot sex and finally getting a chance to build the future we dreamed of is part of the plan too.”
“Hopefully the hot sex and the future are all with the same person,” Travis teased.
Years of sorrow, of hiding myself to keep my dad off my case, of wishing for something different and thinking I’d ruined it with one ill-timed decision washed away under Travis’s words and the tender brush of his knuckles against my cheek, and I sagged into him.
Home.
We were home.