16. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TRAVIS
Brenden Sanderson is going to be the death of me, I swear.
How the heck am I supposed to concentrate on setting up this booth for him when I keep remembering exactly how fantastic his warm mouth felt wrapped around my cock?
It’s a miracle I haven’t hammered my finger instead of a nail yet.
Leo, one of Brenden’s employees who came with me to help, luckily hasn’t noticed my distracted state.
He’s not the most observant guy.
Sure, he follows directions fine, but I think I was right not to trust him being in charge of this job.
We’re not the only ones out here on the green getting things ready for the festival.
People are bustling around everywhere.
Some of them are holding shouted conversations with one another from opposite sides of the green while they work, which also isn’t helping my concentration.
This is exactly the kind of town hoopla I usually like to avoid.
But for Brenden, I can endure it.
My phone rings, and I pause what I’m doing to take it out of my pocket.
I accept my dad’s call right as Leo carelessly swings around a piece of plywood and almost knocks me in the head.
Ducking swiftly, I let out a curse rather than a greeting.
“Travis?” my dad says, sounding alarmed.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” I send a pointed look Leo’s way, and he grimaces apologetically before carrying on with what he was doing.
“How are you?”
A vague, grumbling sound is the only answer I get to that question.
Then Dad says, “I need you to do me a favor if you can.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
As he explains that one of his employees is on a job site and needs a part picked up and brought over to him, I continue directing Leo with hand gestures.
We’re just about done here, so I should have time to run the errand.
“No problem,” I tell him.
“Thanks,” Dad says.
“Christ, I can’t wait to get back to work. All this sitting around on my ass is killing me.”
I understand where he’s coming from, but thinking about his fall is still a bit scary for me.
“You’re resting, which is what you’re supposed to do,” I remind him.
“Because falling off a ladder is what actually could’ve killed you. So when you do go back to work, you need to promise me you’ll be more careful, okay?”
“Hey, who’s the parent here?” he gripes.
“Dad. Please.”
He heaves out a loud sigh.
“Yeah, yeah, all right. I hear ya.”
While listening to him complain about something else, I gather stuff up so me and Leo can leave.
As I’m finishing, I spot Elise and Grant rounding the gazebo and strolling down the path that cuts through the middle of the green.
Elise smiles and waves when she sees me.
I give her a wave in return, though the gesture feels unnatural.
I don’t make it a habit of waving to people I spot in town.
If I did that, then I’d never get anything done, because every person would want to stop and gossip.
I don’t have the time for that or the interest.
But May’s grandparents would likely be coming over to talk whether I waved or not, so I hastily tell my dad I need to go and promise to pick up that part for his employee.
Can’t have him overhearing anything incriminating Elise or Grant might say.
“Do you mind throwing this stuff in the back of my truck?” I ask Leo as they approach us.
“I’ll be right there to drive you back to the inn.”
He takes everything without complaint, and I’m ashamed of my relief at getting rid of both him and my dad.
I don’t want anything to blow Brenden’s cover, but really, I’m worried about my own secret just as much.
And I guess it’s a little ridiculous that I’m a grown ass man still afraid of what my dad might think of me if he found out I wasn’t straight.
But I don’t have the time to dwell on my issues, because Elise and Grant reach me right as Leo walks off the other direction.
“Travis, hi!” Elise greets me.
“It’s a gorgeous day, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” I reply, offering her a smile.
Grant gestures to what’s set up behind me.
“Is this your booth? I thought Brenden said you refuse to have a booth at the festivals.”
I frown, because while that’s true, it kind of makes me sound like an ass, doesn’t it?
“I serve people all day long inside the diner,” I explain somewhat defensively.
“I’d rather not walk outside and have to do the same thing.”
Elise laughs.
“I suppose that’s fair. So what’s this then?”
“Oh, it’s Brenden’s. The booth for the inn is always a big draw. His chef, Addison, has been baking for days to prepare.”
The way they’re both smiling at me now is weird.
“You do a lot for him, don’t you?” Grant asks.
Crap.
“No, I, uh...” That’s exactly the kind of thing Brenden doesn’t want them to think.
He wants them to think he’s capable of doing things on his own.
Which he is.
“It’s obvious you really care about him,” Elise says.
Oh.
Maybe my instinct to help him reveals more about my feelings for him than his capabilities.
“It’s clear how much you care about May too,” she goes on.
“And May adores you. She speaks very highly of you. We’re glad Brenden found such a good man.”
Are my ears turning red?
They feel hot.
I’m not used to people singing my praises.
“I care about them both a lot,” I admit, ducking my head.
“But believe me, I’m lucky Brenden even looked my way. He’s so... warm. And charming. He could have anyone he wanted.”
“And he wants you ,” Grant says.
“So that says something about you.”
Okay, my ears must be red.
Probably my cheeks too.
But Brenden doesn’t want me.
Not in the way I want him to.
He might want my body for now, but he doesn’t want all of me.
My anti-social tendencies and general attitude don’t make good boyfriend material.
I’ve just been putting on a nice show for the grandparents.
“So what are you two up to today?” I ask, not so smoothly changing the subject.
Both to save myself from further embarrassment, and before any of the town gossips walk by and overhear anything they shouldn’t.
“We’re simply wandering, looking for something to keep us occupied,” Elise tells me.
“We passed by the yoga studio, but I’m not sure that’s for us. And the art supply store was doing ceramic painting. It’s such a nice day, though. Seems a shame to spend it inside.”
“Have you checked out Shaw Family Farms?”
She tilts her head questioningly.
“They always have stuff going on over there. You can pick your own fruit, and there’s a small store where they sell all kinds of jams and things.”
Elise turns to Grant.
“That sounds familiar.”
He nods.
“We’ve been there before. But it’s probably been at least twenty years.”
That doesn’t make sense.
“You were here that long ago? Before Brenden and May moved to town?”
When Elise smiles, it’s small, almost sad.
“We used to come for family vacations with our daughter.”
“With...” Shit.
Now I remember Brenden once talking about why he chose to move to Mayweather.
Because May’s mom—his best friend—had told him how much she loved it here.
“I’m so sorry. I guess I forgot, but Brenden did mention that before.”
“No need to be sorry,” Grant assures me.
“I know we don’t talk about our daughter much. Honestly, it’s a little hard being here. We... Well, that’s sort of why we don’t usually stray too far from the inn or Brenden’s house when we visit. This town brings back memories.”
Hearing the tinge of pain in his voice causes a lump to form in my throat.
Is that why they rarely come to visit?
Brenden thinks it’s because they don’t care, but has he considered what being here is like for them?
“Let’s not spoil the lovely day,” Elise says, and this time her smile is a bit brighter.
“We decided we wanted to explore more on this trip, see all that the town and the area has to offer.”
“That sounds nice.”
Grant clasps me on the shoulder.
“You know, it took us a while to make the connection, but we remember your diner too. I’m sorry we can’t say it was our top choice of restaurant in the area, but April loved the pancakes, so we had to go at least once each trip.”
“Oh wow. Small world, I guess. Or small town, more like.” I smile to myself, thinking of how May always gets pancakes when she comes in for breakfast.
Like mother, like daughter.
As Grant releases my shoulder, Elise steps closer.
“We remember your grandfather. He used to recognize us even if we only came in once every couple years. He was a people person, treated all the customers like they were family.”
The lump in my throat is suddenly back and has grown to the size of a tennis ball, making it impossible for me to breathe.
Out of the last three generations of Reed men, my grandfather was definitely the friendly one.
God, he would’ve loved Brenden.
Too bad he never got to meet him.
Shit.
I miss that old man.
Elise must see the tears welling up in my eyes, along with the panicked look on my face—because I don’t cry, damn it, especially not in the middle of the town green—and she reaches out, loosely wrapping her fingers around my forearm.
A horn honks, and I stumble away from her touch.
Whipping my head toward the sound, I spot Leo leaning out the window of my truck, giving me an impatient look.
“Sorry. I should go,” I say.
“Right,” Grant says.
“We won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you’re busy.”
“But we’ll see you tonight, right?” Elise asks.
It doesn’t sound like a demand.
It sounds like she’s genuinely hoping she will.
Which, I hate to admit, actually feels kind of nice.
“Sure, of course,” I tell her.
After our goodbyes, I watch the two of them walk off for a moment before jogging over to my truck.
When I hop in, Leo asks, “What took you so long? Who were those people?”
Cranking the engine, I grasp for an explanation.
“They’re Brenden’s, uh... They’re May’s grandparents.”
“Ah, okay. I think I’ve heard something about them.”
I turn on the radio, then set my eyes firmly on the road as I take off, hoping to discourage him from asking anything more.
It’s not my business to tell people about Brenden’s family situation.
Especially one of his employees.
I know his relationship with Elise and Grant is complicated.
Though I can’t help but wonder again if Brenden even knows their conflicted feelings about visiting Mayweather.
Would it change anything between them if he knew how hard it was for them to come here?
That they do it despite that for him and May?
And is it my place to tell him these things?
If I were really his boyfriend—his partner—then maybe.
But I’m not.
We’re just faking it.
So I should stay out of any emotional minefields and simply enjoy the perks of this fake relationship while I can.
“Who’s ready for MayFest tomorrow?” Brenden asks cheerfully, as he passes Elise a mug of chamomile tea.
He’s learned how to fix it perfectly to her taste.
I press myself farther into the arm on the opposite end of the couch to make room for him in the middle.
He glances down at May, who is sprawled on the floor again with all her school stuff spread out on the coffee table.
I probably should have scooted myself to the middle to make it easier for him.
But I’m pretty glad I didn’t when he sort of takes a dive across my lap to get into the open spot.
I catch his leg to prevent him from kicking May in the head, and we’re both chuckling by the time he gets settled.
He flushes when he notices Elise and Grant watching us with amusement.
May hasn’t even looked up from her homework, her concentration unwavering.
“The festival sounds delightful,” Elise says, not commenting on Brenden’s less than graceful moves.
Brenden grins.
“Oh, it’ll be absolutely delightful when May and I kick everyone’s butts at the May Games! They’re named for her, so obviously we always win.”
At this, May’s head snaps up, and he reaches down to ruffle her purple hair.
A guilty expression crosses her face, but I don’t think he notices in his excitement.
“They’re not named for me,” she says.
“They’re named for the month. And the festival. And the town.”
“And you’re named for the town,” he tells her.
“Therefore, they’re named for you.”
She sets her pen down on her notebook and twists to face her dad better.
“We don’t always win.”
He scowls.
“All right, fine. We usually win. But we’re not letting the O’Brien twins beat us this year. I don’t care if they have freaky twin advantages. We’re the dream team.”
May’s guilty look returns.
“Um, Dad? About the games...”
“What?” he asks.
“I asked Grandma if she’d do them with me this year. Since we’ve never gotten to do anything like that together before.”
Brenden’s face falls, the brightness dimming like the sun sliding behind a cloud.
But he recovers quickly, giving her a smile that almost looks real.
“Oh. Well, sure. Of course you should do it with your grandmother, if that’s what you want. That’ll be fun for you guys! I’ll get to just chill out and watch for once and cheer you on from the sidelines. That’ll be fun. Super fun. Maybe I’ll make an embarrassing sign to hold up.”
I reach out and gently squeeze his thigh, hoping to calm him so he’ll ease up on the babbling.
“Actually, I figured you’d want to compete with Travis,” May says.
Woah there.
Compete with who now?
My panicked eyes meet Brenden’s.
I’m planning to do the boyfriend thing and go to the festival with him.
But my participation is not supposed to extend beyond watching and trying not to sneer at the madness.
He grimaces.
“May, you know that’s not Travis’s thing.”
When she glances at me, her guilty look has morphed into something else.
Something a little more mischievous.
“I know it’s not normally his thing. But I’m sure he’d love to compete with you. Isn’t that the kind of thing boyfriends do together?”
She smiles sweetly, but I see the calculation behind it.
She knows exactly what she’s doing—trapping us.
Is it weird to be scared of a thirteen-year-old?
“We, um.” Brenden kicks her subtly, out of her grandparents’ view.
“He... It’s...”
“What’s the matter?” Elise asks.
“Are you two afraid you’ll get beaten by a teenager and an old lady?”
Oh hell.
They’re in on this together.
“There’s no way you’ll beat us!” Brenden exclaims.
Then he shoots me an apologetic look, because that sure sounded like an agreement that we’ll be competing together.
I hold his gaze, wanting to be a good fake boyfriend, to give him whatever he wants.
But come on.
Those games are ridiculous.
Do I really need to make a fool of myself to be a good boyfriend?
Fake.
A good fake boyfriend.
His mouth silently forms the word please , and I know I’m done for.
Huffing out a sigh, I say, “Fine. I’ll throw a damn egg at you.”
“ To me,” he corrects.
“Sure. That.”
May claps, sounding positively delighted as she says, “See? This is going to be so much fun!”
When I shoot her a side-eyed look, she gives me another faux-innocent smile.
I resist the urge to flip her off, because that’s probably inappropriate.
It’s clear that she planned this.
Yeah, I believe she might have wanted to do the games with her grandmother.
But I’m certain that forcing me and Brenden to do them together also factored in there.
I’m just not sure the reason for it.
She probably thinks it’ll be funny, since she knows how much I hate this kind of shit.
I’ve lived in this town most of my life and managed to avoid it.
But when my usual urge to give Brenden what he wants is compounded by the new urge to give his daughter what she wants.
.
.
I had no hope of resisting, did I?
“Fun,” I say grudgingly.
She looks way too pleased with herself as she turns back to her homework.
Brenden leans over to give me a quick kiss.
“Thank you.”
All of my annoyance melts away instantly.
I thread my fingers through his hair and pull him in for one more kiss.
“You don’t have to thank me. It’s what boyfriends are for.”
His eyes twinkle, like we’re sharing a private joke, before he leans back out of my space.
A bit later, I’m still wondering what May’s angle really is, when she stands up, yawning, and says, “Is anyone else tired? I think I’m ready for bed.”
Brenden scoffs at her.
“It’s Friday night.”
“But we should be well-rested for tomorrow, right?”
“I swear it’s like you’re thirteen-going-on-senior-citizen,” he tells her, rolling his eyes.
Elise stands too.
“Well, I’m certainly not thirteen, so I’m going to head upstairs.”
One by one, May, Elise, and Grant leave the living room.
Brenden turns to me with a perplexed look on his face once we’re alone.
“I feel like I’m missing something. Are you tired?”
“Not really.”
“You wanna watch something?”
Before I say yes, I get a better idea.
A much better idea.
Or possibly a much worse idea, if I think about how much it’s going to suck later when the two of us go back to being just friends.
So I won’t let myself think about that.
Not now.
“No,” I tell him.
“Let’s go up to bed.”
“But you just said you weren’t tired.”
“Exactly.”