6. CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SIX
TRAVIS
Tonight is going to be a disaster.
What were we thinking?
We can’t pull this off.
Not with the way I almost lost it at the slightest physical contact from Brenden earlier.
I wasn’t even thinking about the fact that we were at the inn and someone from town could’ve seen us.
All I could think was.
.
.
Woah.
I already knew his touch did things to me that it shouldn’t.
But for years, I’ve been able to ignore the effect he has on me, because I know he’s only ever meant his touches to be friendly.
Patting my back as a thank you, gripping my arm when he’s excited, occasionally poking at the corner of my mouth when I’m frowning too hard—those things I can handle.
One graze of a fingertip, though, and it felt like my insides melted.
My brain knows the intimate touch was only him pretending we’re together.
But now I need to pretend too, and I hope my dick and heart also get the memo that that’s all it is.
Pretend.
Stepping onto Brenden’s porch, I hesitate before knocking.
Maybe May’s grandparents expect me to have a key.
But that’s irrelevant anyway, because I’m sure Brenden left the door unlocked like always.
Should I go right in as if I’m here all the time?
Can’t hurt, I guess.
Okay, it’s showtime.
Turn on boyfriend mode.
My boyfriend mode is pretty rusty, considering I haven’t been anyone’s boyfriend in over a decade, but I can do this.
For Brenden.
I reach for the doorknob, and my assumption about it being unlocked is proven correct.
As soon as I step inside the house, though, Brenden comes flying over and grabs my wrist in a surprisingly strong grip, making me question if I did the right thing.
“Please save me,” he hisses dramatically in my ear.
“What?”
“They’re already unhappy with me because they don’t like my tea selection.”
I cock my head at him.
“You drink tea?”
“No, of course not!” he whispers-yells, as if I’ve offended his love for coffee.
“But I know they do, so I bought a box for them, and apparently my choice is like a sacrilege or something. They went on about how if they drink caffeinated tea in the evening, they won’t be able to sleep, and yadda yadda.” His grip on me tightens as he continues to rant in a hushed voice.
“You’d think they were British for how much it matters to them. I thought all tea was the same!”
“Seriously?”
“No, I guess not,” he admits.
Then he starts yanking on me in an attempt to drag me in past the foyer.
“I don’t care. Just come on so they can focus on you instead of me.”
Can’t say I love the sound of that, but I did know it was coming.
And the distress on his face is kicking my protective instincts toward him into overdrive.
So if he needs me to be a distraction, that’s what I’ll be.
But first.
I wrap my hand—the one with my wrist not locked in his death grip—around the nape of his neck, brushing my thumb over the short hair there.
“Try to relax.”
See?
I’m boyfriending already.
And apparently thinking in nonsensical Brenden-speak.
“They’ve got me so on edge,” he says, but he leans his head into my touch.
He’s still in his work outfit—a pale yellow button-up and fitted black slacks that hug his small round ass perfectly.
Not that I looked.
Okay, I looked earlier while he was flitting around the inn like a sexy bumblebee.
But I won’t look again.
“They’ve visited before, haven’t they?” I ask.
“Yeah, but they’ve always stayed at the inn, so I didn’t have to worry about things like providing them with adequate tea. And May was cool with sleeping on the couch so they could stay in her room, but I’m wondering if I should’ve given them mine instead. Because her full-sized bed is a major downgrade for them, I’m sure. Granted, my queen probably is too, but at least it’s slightly better. Except I’m too old to sleep on a couch for more than one night at a time. My body will get all stiff and creaky.”
I’m tempted to remind him I’m a year older than him, but instead, I search for something encouraging to say as I continue rubbing his nape.
“That feels good,” he practically purrs, finally loosening his hold on my other wrist.
Then he lets it go to slide his hand slowly up my forearm.
Trying not to hear his words in a filthier context, and reminding myself why I’m here, I release him and gently nudge his hand away.
“We should go before they come looking for us. But it’s going to be fine. I’m here for you.”
When standing up straight, Brenden’s only an inch or two shorter than my six-foot-one.
But right now he’s slouching, which makes him seem smaller.
I can’t tell if it’s because he still feels defeated, or because I actually helped relax him.
Either way, he has to look up to meet my eyes.
It feels like he can see all the way into my soul, and I’m worried about what he might find there.
“I know you are,” he says softly.
“Thank you.”
He straightens himself up, then takes my hand in a much more casual hold and begins to lead me toward the kitchen.
“Uh, is this okay?” he asks, squeezing my hand once.
“We didn’t have time to discuss—”
“It’s fine,” I assure him.
While this is certainly new for us, holding his hand is something I could easily get used to.
But I shouldn’t.
In the kitchen, May and her grandparents are sitting at the round table with mugs in front of them.
I notice May’s is filled with coffee, despite it being eight thirty at night.
Like father, like daughter.
I almost smile but can’t, because that’s such a terrible habit.
At least she’s still on school vacation.
Brenden releases my hand as he goes over to the empty chair, the one with another mug of coffee in front of it.
Instead of sitting down, though, he glances at me, unsure.
So I walk over to join him, and then we both stand there awkwardly as I exchange do-over introductions with Elise and Grant.
With that out of the way, May jumps up and tells me to take her seat.
Before I can decline the offer, she grabs her coffee and scoots closer to her grandmother, resting her butt against the windowsill.
Brenden sits down and tugs me toward the vacated seat.
For a few moments, nobody says anything, and the tension in Brenden’s body seems to have returned already.
He’s white-knuckling the handle of his coffee mug.
“Would you like some tea?” Elise asks me, politely breaking the silence.
“I’m afraid there’s no decaf.”
Brenden’s jaw twitches, so I slide my hand onto his thigh under the table and give it a reassuring squeeze.
“No thank you, I’m fine.”
“Would you prefer coffee?” Grant asks.
“There’s a pot on. Although I don’t understand how these two”—he gestures between Brenden and May—“can drink it at this time of night.”
“We like to live on the edge,” May jokes.
Elise tuts her disapproval.
“Honestly, Brenden, I’m not sure May should be drinking coffee at all at her age, and especially not at night.”
Brenden pales a little.
“Well, um, I...”
Seeing him like this, with his confidence zapped, kills me.
I subtly rub his thigh with my thumb, because I realize he might actually need me here for support as much as for playing a role.
Or is this just a part of playing the role?
Boyfriends are supposed to be supportive.
Either way, it seems to work.
He takes a breath to compose himself, then says, “I respect your concerns. But I’ve raised May to make her own decisions, and I promise you she’s healthy and responsible.”
“I think there are worse things a teenager could be drinking,” I add.
Because while I may pretty much agree with May’s grandmother, I don’t like her questioning Brenden’s parenting decisions.
“I suppose there are,” Grant says.
Brenden’s hand lands on top of mine under the table and squeezes.
I’m pretty sure that means thank you .
He leaves his hand there after that, keeping mine trapped on his thigh.
And I can’t say I mind it.
“Although, she’s barely a teenager,” Elise argues.
“Grandma, I don’t even have school tomorrow,” May says, giving the woman an angelic smile.
“Don’t worry.”
“I know, sweetie,” Elise tells her.
“I was only stating my opinion.”
May waits until Elise takes her eyes off her before she has another sip of her coffee.
Then she glances worriedly between Elise and Brenden.
I’m pretty sure she loves her grandparents, but it’s clear to me whose side she’d take if it came down to it.
I’ve never seen a closer relationship between a child and parent.
Brenden leans toward me to ask, “Do you want a beer?”
“I’m fine,” I tell him.
While a beer might usually ease my nerves in a situation like this, seeing him so nervous has oddly been enough to keep me calm.
I want to be a steadying presence for him.
“Anyway,” Grant says, “we were asking Brenden about the two of you, but he so eloquently told us to hold off on the interrogation until you got here.”
“I didn’t say it like that,” Brenden mumbles.
May snorts.
“You totally did.”
He shrugs sheepishly.
“I think I was joking.”
“So how did you two get together?” Elise asks, zeroing her attention in on me.
“Brenden said you own the diner in town, so you must have known each other for a while before you started dating.”
“Right, well...” I look to Brenden for help.
“Yeah, um...” he says not so helpfully.
As we both flounder for an answer, I realize with horror that Brenden didn’t leave us any time to actually prepare for this.
We should’ve come up with a story.
We can’t just say, “Hey, we’re boyfriends,” and expect that to be enough.
“Dad and I eat at the diner all the time, so they’ve known each other for years and were friends first,” May smoothly jumps in.
“They’d bicker over silly stuff, though it was obviously their way of flirting. I could tell they liked each other, but both of them were too chicken to do anything about it.” She shoots a challenging look our way, as if daring us to contradict her.
Even though we definitely don’t flirt, I’m keeping my mouth shut.
Hopefully, she knows where she’s going with this.
If she can come up with a cover story for us, then she can say whatever she wants.
Brenden must be thinking the same thing, because he says nothing too.
Though it looks like he’s fighting hard to keep his face neutral.
May turns back to her grandparents.
“So one day, I told Travis my dad was lonely and that I wanted to set him up with someone, and I asked if he had any suggestions. He got all grumpy and told me to leave him out of it. But I kept pushing until he admitted his feelings, and then I told him if he didn’t hurry up and ask Dad on a date, I’d find someone else who would.”
Well, shit, kid.
Thanks for making me sound kind of pathetic.
Considering how easily that came to her, I’m worried she might actually believe some of what she said.
She’s a smart girl.
I’m good at hiding my feelings, but is it possible she sees right through me?
No.
She’s just covering for us and likely messing with us at the same time.
She doesn’t know.
Brenden’s still silent.
I have no idea what he’s thinking, but one of us needs to say something.
I clear my throat.
All right, I’m up.
It feels like I’m back in school and forgot to study for a test.
“Guess I just needed that push,” I say.
“And it helped to know May approved of me dating her dad.”
“Obviously, I do,” May says, giving me a smile that looks very genuine before turning to her grandparents again.
“Travis has been around the whole time I was growing up. He’s come to my birthday parties. He’s always been there for me and Dad, even before they started dating. I know he’ll never hurt either of us.”
Her eyes meet mine again, and her faith in me gets me a little choked up.
Even though the whole thing about me and Brenden being together is fake, it sounds like she means this part.
And she’s right.
I’d never hurt them.
That’s why I’ve never let my feelings for Brenden slip.
Because he deserves more than a grumpy closeted guy with hermit tendencies.
“Isn’t that sweet,” Elise says, reaching out across the table to pat my forearm.
“I do appreciate knowing there’s someone here taking care of these two.”
Brenden’s back goes ramrod straight.
“I’m happy to be here for anything they need,” I tell her as I squeeze Brenden’s thigh lightly.
“But there’s nothing for you to worry about. Brenden is more than capable of taking care of May and himself. I don’t know anyone else who can handle as much as he does. He built a life here for the two of them, all on his own. Gave her a home and everything she needs while working his way up in his career to get where he is now. He and May have an incredibly close relationship, and everyone in town loves both of them.”
Brenden exhales loudly, like he was holding his breath.
Then, very slowly, his palm slides along the back of my hand until he laces his fingers with mine.
“Well, we did help him out significantly with purchasing the inn,” Grant says, “but I’m sure you’re right about everything else.”
Brenden tenses again.
“I hope you know how much I appreciate the two of you offering me a loan.”
“Yes, we know, hon,” Elise tells him.
“But it’s still his good sense for business and hospitality that’s keeping the place so successful,” I remind everyone.
Maybe I shouldn’t be causing waves here, but I want to make sure May’s grandparents know how smart and capable Brenden is.
I want to make sure he knows it too.
“The inn’s always been a lovely place,” Elise says.
“We’re excited to see what it’s like now that it’s yours.”
“It’s, uh...” Brenden starts.
“Things are going great. It can be stressful, because something constantly comes up that I have to figure out and adapt to. But I love the work, and the guests are always happy.”
Elise idly taps one manicured nail against her mug.
“I’m sure they are. I hope we can still have some meals there, even if it’s not where we’re staying.”
“Yes, absolutely!”
I can tell by Brenden’s face that he’s relieved she wants to eat at the inn.
Because he certainly has no business cooking for them.
“And we’ll have to eat at your place too,” Grant adds, turning toward me.
Brenden hastily shakes his head.
“No, you don’t have to do that. It’s not your kind of restaurant.”
“Maybe not exactly,” Elise admits.
“But we’d still like to see it.”
“Of course, you should stop in,” I say, giving Brenden’s fingers a squeeze to let him know it’s okay.
It’s going to be tricky, navigating how to keep them believing we’re a couple while not letting anyone else in town catch on to us.
The diner is like gossip central, so we’ll need to be careful.
But we can do it.
I promised him we’d do this.
This handholding is already messing with my head though.
We should’ve talked about touching and boundaries.
If I’m doing this, I want to make it believable, but I don’t want to do anything that would make Brenden uncomfortable.
And I didn’t really prepare myself for the way acting affectionate with him would make me feel.
But it doesn’t matter.
Right now, he seems perfectly content to keep our hands together on top of his thigh.
I think the contact is keeping him from spiraling.
So I’ll hold his hand and try to tamp down the warmth that’s sneaking up my chest.
After everyone has finished their drinks, Brenden gets up, his fingers slipping out of my hold, and collects the mugs to bring them to the sink.
May steals his seat as her grandparents turn all their focus on me.
They ask about my life (boring), why I chose owning a restaurant (not entirely a choice), and my family (a dad who doesn’t really know me).
I don’t say this about my dad, of course.
And when I mention that he also lives in town, Elise and Grant insist they need to meet him.
But I apologize, letting them know about his injury and how he’s staying with his sister for at least another few weeks until he recovers.
No chance of that meeting happening, thank fuck .
The conversation still makes me squirm a little though.
Not necessarily the questions, but the utterly bland impression I must be giving them.
Brenden clearly seeks their approval of him and his life choices.
I don’t want them to think I’m a bad choice.
Even if this isn’t real.
I find myself standing and drifting over toward Brenden when I run out of things to say.
He’s at the sink washing dishes, so I step up behind him and place a hand on his hip, hoping the move doesn’t startle him.
It needs to look natural.
His jump is so tiny, I’m sure everyone else missed it, then he quickly settles into my touch.
Stepping closer, I rest my chin on his shoulder.
And I swear I’m doing this for him.
To sell this thing.
I’m not doing it because I like how it feels.
“Need any help?”
He shakes his head, his cheek briefly brushing mine.
“Almost done.”
We stay like that a minute while he finishes up, and when he turns to reach for a dish towel, I grab it for him.
It’s a slight disappointment that I have to step away to do it.
Then Elise says, “Well, it’s getting late. I think we’ll head up to bed. Travis, you’re staying right?”
I’m hit with a flash of panic.
“Don’t let us get in the way of whatever it is you two would normally be doing,” she adds.
“ Eww ,” May says.
“Hush,” Brenden tells her, face flaming.
He glances nervously at me, and we attempt to have a silent conversation.
Finally, I nod, because it seems like the only option.
“Yeah. I was gonna stay.”
Brenden’s face is a strange mix of relieved and worried now, and I can’t say I’m not experiencing a mix of emotions myself.
Of course Elise and Grant would assume that I spend some nights here, but I kind of figured that the respectful thing for a boyfriend to do would be to stay at home and give them space for their visit.
Brenden and I didn’t talk about the possibility of me actually sleeping here.
We didn’t talk enough about anything.
Damn it.
We’ll need to work out all the details of this ridiculous plan tonight.
In his bedroom.
Fuck.
Me.