2. Travis
TRAVIS
I t was all I could do not to sigh when Dax smiled at me.
“I’m going to shower and then start breakfast. You can do whatever you need to settle in, then meet me in the kitchen. Do you need a change of clothes?”
I laughed. “As if yours would fit me?”
“I’d find something that would do.”
I wanted to wear Dax’s clothes, to have his smell on me, but I had some clothes in my backpack that were at least reasonably clean. “It’s okay. I have something to change into.”
I stared at Dax’s gorgeous round ass as he walked out of the room, then looked down at my dirty, worn-out backpack, which held ninety percent of my belongings.
There wasn’t much settling in for me to do, and despite what he’d said, I would not stay here more than a day.
I couldn’t be around Dax—strong, fucking gorgeous Dax—for longer than that without making a fool of myself.
I’d nearly tripped over my feet when I’d stepped into his bedroom and seen his big, luxurious bed. This whole house was like a dream. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe in dreams anymore.
I set my backpack on the floor by the bed, pulled out my phone, and plugged in my charger to revive it.
Beau would be pissed if he realized I’d let the battery run down, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t call Dax if he wanted to check on me.
He didn’t need to check on me now anyway.
Guidry, the man who’d been after Beau and probably me as well, was gone and so was his accomplice. Beau didn’t need me anymore.
After I showered and dressed, I sat down on the edge of the bed and closed my eyes for a moment.
I needed some time before seeing Dax again.
Grown-up Dax was even more potent than he had been at eighteen.
I’d had a crush on him back then, but I’d been a kid, and the attraction felt much different now.
If only my dream of Dax telling me I was the only one he’d ever loved had come true, my life would have gone so differently.
I knew Dax was mixed up in some scary shit, but if my brother trusted him, then he was honorable.
I had no doubt Beau no longer trusted anyone he hadn’t thoroughly investigated, not after what had happened with Rob.
No matter what kind of villain Dax might be, he was nothing like my fucking ex—if I could even really call Rob that.
I’d thought he was my boyfriend, but all he did was use me.
How had I not seen how evil he was sooner?
The smell of sausage frying brought me back to the present.
Rob was gone; Beau had seen his body. I had a chance to reconcile with my brother.
I was safe, and I was about to eat a delicious meal cooked for me by a gorgeous man.
Maybe I could just enjoy this day, even if I couldn’t let myself get too comfortable here.
Beau thought I was nervous about staying with Dax.
I was, but it had nothing to do with me doubting I could trust him or that he would take care of me.
I’d been taking care of myself for a long time, often while living with untrustworthy men.
I was nervous around Dax because the second I saw him, everything I’d thought and felt about him the last time I had seen him came rushing back stronger than ever.
Dax was way out of my league, and I needed to focus on getting my life together.
I had no job and nowhere to live now that I’d skipped out on work and rent. I didn’t want to go back to the family shack in the bayou, even if Beau would let me. I wasn’t even sure who it belonged to—him, both of us, or someone else.
When I entered the kitchen, Dax was facing the stove.
He had pancakes sizzling on a griddle and sausage in a pan.
As good as it smelled, all I wanted to eat up was Dax.
His hair was still damp from his shower.
He was wearing a pair of sweat shorts and a t-shirt that clung to every muscle of his arms and back.
Part of me wished he’d left it off, and part of me knew if he had I might not be able to stop myself from walking up behind him and running my hands over the lines of his back.
Jesus, I wanted to know if he felt as good as I thought he would.
I wished I had something better to put on instead of the ratty sweats I’d chosen and the white t-shirt that had once been Beau’s.
I’d borrowed it a few months before I’d helped Rob set my brother up to go to prison.
The worst fucking day of my life, except for…
No. I didn’t need to think about either of those things.
I probably looked like a kid in the oversize t-shirt, but that was for the best. If Dax thought about me as the kid he’d once known, he’d keep his distance. He wouldn’t look at me the way he had earlier and make me think maybe a man like him could want me. I was way too fucked up for that.
Dax glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “You look like you feel a lot better.”
“The shower was nice. Even your bathroom is vintage.”
“The look of it is, but that room used to be two closets. The house only had one bath, and I wanted a second one. My bathroom has an original claw foot tub. You should try it out one day.”
I couldn’t imagine soaking in his tub without thinking of him in there with me. Heat filled my cheeks, and Dax turned back to the stove.
“This will be done soon. Have a seat. I made coffee, but you need to sleep, so maybe?—”
“I’m still having coffee.”
“No.”
“You can’t tell me what to drink. I’ll have a horrible headache if I don’t get some caffeine. I haven’t slept well in weeks, years really, so what difference will it make?”
He whipped around and glared at me. “Getting good sleep matters. You need to take better care of yourself.”
I snorted. “I was trying to keep myself alive.”
“You don’t have to worry about that now. I’m here to protect you, so it’s time for you to think about your future. What do you want to do?”
“Wow, that’s a heavy question after the night we’ve had.
” And one I didn’t want to answer because Dax was going to be all encouraging, but it wasn’t what I wanted.
Reconciling with Beau would be nice, but I wasn’t sure that was possible, and if not, I wanted to slink away and hide.
I didn’t want more trouble or excitement or anything that would make me hurt like I had when I set Beau up or when I thought he was going to die tonight. “Can we just eat?”
Dax studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. But we’re going to talk later.”
Not if I snuck out of there.
I hadn’t had my favorite sausage in years, and it was as good as I remembered it. Dax’s pancakes were fluffy and perfectly textured, and the eggs were cooked through without being dry, just like I liked them. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”
Beau had cooked for us growing up. There was nothing wrong with his cooking, but all of it was simple and serviceable. This was a restaurant-quality breakfast.
“Marjorie.”
“She’s Corbin’s mom?”
“Yes, and Remy and Lance’s stepmom. She taught all of us how to cook, but some of us paid more attention than others, and I took every chance I could to have her teach me.”
“This is amazing. I wish I could make food like this or that I had someone to make it for me.”
“I already said you can stay as long as you need to. I’ll cook for you while you’re here.”
Damn. As if he wasn’t hot enough, now he was offering me a beautiful home and amazing food. Could I accept his offer?
No. I couldn’t hang around here mooning over him. And if he brought a man back here, I’d want to murder whoever it was. I didn’t want to think about Dax with someone else. The longer I stayed here, the more I was in danger of thinking Dax could be mine.
I rose from the table to refill my coffee, but Dax took the mug from my hand. “I’ll get you some water.”
“Are you this bossy with everyone?”
“Most people just do what I say because they know what’s good for them. You need to drink some water.”
“I—”
“It’s nonnegotiable. You can have more coffee afterward.”
“Yes, sir.” His eyes widened for a moment. He liked that. And I had to admit that having Dax dominate me sounded delicious. Would it be so bad to let him tell me what to do?
Dax schooled his face and didn’t say anything, which was for the best. He went to the fridge, pulled out a filter pitcher, and poured me a glass of water.
I drained half of it as soon as he handed it to me, then went back to silently finishing my food.
“Have you thought about staying in the city?” Dax asked a few minutes later.
I shook my head. “Not really. I don’t think there’s anything here for me.”
“I could help you find a job. Do you have a place to go back to?”
“I had a shit hole of an apartment, but I skipped out weeks ago and didn’t pay my last rent, so I won’t be going back there. My manager at the place I was working made it clear I wasn’t welcome to return since I disappeared without warning.”
“See? You need a fresh start.”
“I need a job and an apartment.” He made it sound so easy, like I could just pick something I wanted to do and I would magically have an entirely new life.
I knew better. My life had been fucked up for a long time.
Some of that wasn’t my fault, but plenty of it was, and I didn’t believe in miracles.
At that moment I just wanted to go lie down.
I wasn’t actually feeling tired, though I was sure I should be.
What I needed most was to get away from Dax, away from his hopefulness, away from his perfect body, away from the memories of how well he treated me when I was a kid.
He was never the one to brush me off or send me away.
One time he even carried me on his back when I got tired of walking.
“Thank you for breakfast or dinner or whatever this was.”
Dax was watching me thoughtfully, but his expression was neutral. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but I didn’t dare. I just carried my dishes to the sink.
“Sleep well, Travis.” His voice was so soft I barely heard it.
“You too.”
I thought I heard him mutter “I wish,” but I kept walking.
I lay in the bed tossing and turning, thinking about Dax being so close and about what the hell I was going to do now.
I did need to start over. Dax was right about that, but how could I have a fresh start when all my choices seemed as stale as they had since the day I’d left rehab to face life with no good prospects and no more ways to hide from reality.
For the last four years, my life had been stagnant, just a series of meaningless jobs and meaningless places with no friends that stuck around.
Most people I met turned out to be junkies or were too disturbed by my past. And sex?
I’d hardly even been interested. For a long time, I felt like I was waiting for something.
Something like the opportunity Dax is offering you?
Could I really stay in New Orleans and keep myself out of trouble?
And if Beau didn’t forgive me, would I really have that chance?
Eventually, sometime after the sun had fully risen, I fell asleep. I was disoriented as hell when I woke, thinking I was still out in the swamp. Then I remembered shooting Guidry to save Beau and Dax bringing me home.
My heart banged against my chest as soon as I thought of Dax.
He was as inspiring as he had been when I was a kid, but I couldn’t stay with him.
No matter how much I wanted to. I needed to go figure things out for myself.
Guidry wasn’t the only enemy I had to worry about.
I’d managed to avoid contact with everyone from my old life for years, but I doubted that would be possible in New Orleans.
There was way too much criminal business conducted in the city, and much of it was run by men Rob had pissed off.
Now that they couldn’t get back at him, they were likely to take revenge on me if they got the chance.
It didn’t matter that I hadn’t wanted to do most of the things Rob forced me into.
He’d fucked people over, and I’d been his associate.
I slipped out of bed and put my dirty clothes and my phone charger in my backpack.
If Dax was here—and he’d said he would be—avoiding him wouldn’t be easy in the small house, but if there was one thing I was good at, it was running away.
I’d only worn boxers to sleep, so I pulled on the clothes I had worn at breakfast, creeped across the room, and cracked the door.
After several seconds of careful listening, I started to step into the hall. That’s when I heard Dax’s voice.
At first, I worried there was someone else in the house, then I realized he was talking on the phone. He was distracted, so it was the perfect time to slip out unnoticed. I moved silently down the hall, a skill I’d perfected quickly once Rob made me move in with him.
I was especially careful as I moved closer to Dax’s office.
The door was slightly ajar. I tried to remember the layout of the furniture to determine whether he’d be able to see through the crack.
I’d moved to the far side of the hall and pressed myself against the wall when I heard him say, “So I can’t kill him, but you want me to hurt him? …Can I leave marks on him?…Fine.”
I told myself to keep moving. I didn’t need to know who or what he was talking about.