Chapter 26
HANNAH
Travis and I lie side by side in his bed. Naked and both gasping for breath. Neither of us have moved post-orgasm, except for him to remove the condom. I think my brain is broken. All the usual chatter and worries are gone and it’s just bliss.
As I stare up at the ceiling, happier than I can remember, a giggle slips from my lips. Small at first and then louder.
Travis lets his head fall to the side, brown eyes locking on mine. “Are you crashing out? Need me to kiss some sense into you again?”
I tip my lips up to kiss him. “No and yes.”
His grin is all boyish charm as he wraps an arm around my back and pulls me on top of him, crushing his mouth to mine in the process.
His big hands roam up and down my back and he kisses me like it’s all he’s thought about these past two months.
It feels surreal to be all tangled up with him like this. I do my own exploring, tracing the lines of his muscles in his stomach and the V at his hip. Lightly, I rake my nails along the shaft of his dick and then smooth a thumb over the head.
He hums deep in his throat. “Something you want, wife?”
“Yes, you’re a good body pillow. But I should go back downstairs before Wren wakes up and realizes I abandoned her.”
“She’s sleeping.” He nuzzles between my breasts, dragging his nose along my skin and placing tender kisses as he goes. “Stay with me. I still haven’t given you an encore of Vegas.”
Vegas. God. What I’d give for the memories of that night.
“Tell me about it. All of it.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Kissing in the club, and there are some hazy images outside in front of a fountain, maybe.”
He nods, a small almost apologetic smile curving his lips. “That’s where we decided to get married.”
“In front of the fountain?”
“Yeah. We did briefly consider tattoos, but you said you didn’t want to worry about it healing when you were just starting to train with a new coach.”
“How practical of me. Marriage was obviously the much easier option.” At this point all I can do is laugh. “We’re never allowed to get drunk together again.”
“It didn’t turn out so bad.”
“I don’t know how you do that.”
“What?”
“Take everything in stride.”
He reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear, studying my face like he’s memorizing every detail. “Hannah, you’ve been all I’ve thought about since we met. Getting married in Vegas wasn’t that out of pocket for me.”
“Yeah, but marriage?”
He lifts one shoulder and lets it fall. “I’m just saying, it’ll go down as one of the better decisions I’ve made.”
“You could have just asked me out.”
“I did. Several times.”
“Still…”
“I stand by my decision.”
It’s hard to fathom that this man was so certain we’d be good together he was willing to risk marrying me.
“Wait. You were going to get a tattoo?” Given his past I’m surprised. “Of what?”
“Technically I did get a tattoo, I just didn’t do it that night.”
I understand immediately but wish I didn’t. This man not only married me knowing exactly what he was doing (though definitely drunk), he inked the occasion on his skin.
“It’s the fourth tally. I got it the week after we got back.”
“Before we decided not to go through with the annulment?”
“I figured it was a life-altering moment no matter how it turned out.”
“God.” I press my palms on either side of his face. His cheeks are rough with dark stubble. “And here I was freaking out wondering if you liked me and cooking your favorite muffins in some weak-ass attempt to get you to kiss me again.”
“What?” He sits up, leaning on one elbow, dark brows pulling together.
Heat dots my cheeks. “Last night I thought…” I trail off with a groan. “It’s so embarrassing.”
I try to cover my face with my hands, but he peels them away and holds them at his chest.
“Tell me.”
My stomach is a bundle of nerves, but the way he looks at me, so earnest and hopeful, gives me just enough courage. “I wanted to find a way to tell you that I’m falling for you and to show you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
His smile grows wider.
“I’m used to taking care of myself and other people but with you, it’s always the other way around.
It’s a bit unsettling, really.” I give him a wobbly smile in return.
“So I thought if I baked and waited up for you, it’d be obvious how I felt.
” Saying it now, it’s no wonder it didn’t pan out like I hoped.
“But then you got here, and I could tell something was wrong and I didn’t know if you were just tired or if I’d missed my chance. ”
“No.” His thumb makes slow, reassuring circles along the back of my hand. “That wasn’t about you at all. I’m so sorry you thought that for even a second. I fucked that up. Not you, okay? I’m so sorry. Forgive me?”
“It’s fine. There’s nothing to forgive. It was late and you weren’t expecting me.”
“It wasn’t fine. You did something so nice for me, and I made you feel weird about it. I never want to be that guy. No matter what else is going on, there’s no excuse.”
He looks so genuinely sorry that it makes me feel even more like I made too big a deal out of it. “It’s okay to have a bad day and need space or whatever. You don’t always have to be happy to see me.”
“That’s what you don’t get though. I was happy to see you. Ecstatic even. Opening the door and seeing you is the best part of my day. Especially last night.”
“Because of the game?” It’s the only reason I can think of why he would have been upset if not with me.
“No.” His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek. “I got a call from my dad as I was getting on the plane.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” He sighs. “I haven’t heard from him or my mom in more than six years, but over the past couple months he’s reached out a few times.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care.”
I wonder if that’s true. Based on the way it got to him, I’d say not. Either way, my stomach twists and anger boils under my skin at his words and the casual, easy acceptance. I know it had to have been bad for him to write anyone off, let alone his parents.
“I’m sorry.” I know my apology isn’t enough to erase that hurt for him, but I at least want him to know I believe that he did the right thing by distancing himself from them.
“Cutting them out of my life was necessary. I know that the same way I know it wasn’t my fault, but—” He pauses and swallows.
“It doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
He nods, eyes sparking with some notion that I understand.
“Anyway, him calling just stirs shit up that I’d rather not dwell on.”
“What happened six years ago?” I ask. He said that was the last time he talked to them.
“I scored my first goal in the league, and I was so damn happy. He called while I was out celebrating with the guys.” He stops again like this part is especially hard to relive.
“It took me all of thirty seconds to figure out he had no idea about my goal or even that I was playing hockey professionally. He was only calling because he wanted me to fly home for a family photoshoot.”
I can’t conceal the surprise in my expression.
“Yeah.” Travis’s laugh is short and brittle. “People had been asking my parents why they hadn’t seen me around lately so they thought a few photos of the three of us would prove all was well and good between us for a few more years at least.”
Forget anger. What I feel for his parents is closer to rage. What. The. Fuck?
“I said no and that was the last time we talked until last night.” He shakes his head, looking up like he’s lost in thought about his absolute jerk of a father. “I wouldn’t have answered if I’d known it was him. He called from a blocked number, and I thought it might be you so…”
“You answered.”
He nods to confirm.
“What did he say?”
“He’s coming to town and wants to talk.” He shakes his head. “Fuck that. I don’t have anything to say to him.”
“Good,” I say, sharper than I mean to but I’m not sorry about it.
“But that’s why I was too slow to realize what was happening last night. If I’d known you wanted me to kiss you, the night would have ended very differently.”
“Like tonight?”
“Exactly like tonight.”
It’s a few more hours before I sneak back downstairs to the couch.
Wren is exactly where I left her, curled up in a heap of pillows and blankets.
As softly as I can manage, I take my spot on the other end.
The blanket Travis and I were using smells like him, or maybe it’s me at this point.
I dip my chin to inhale the front of my shirt and smile.
“Hannah?” Wren asks, quiet and voice laced with sleep.
“Yeah?”
“I like your husband.”
“I do too.”