gave a surprised huff. “You anchored a table in this crowded tourist mecca all day? That must have cost a few euros.”
“Only enough to feed a family of four for a week. But...” His glance swung back to Kate. “It was worth every euro.”
Dammit! How did he do it? A grin, a shared glance, and she was almost ready to forget her angry wish of a few moments ago. Almost.
The bitterness that had spawned it came back, leaving a sour taste in her mouth and a ragged hole in her heart. “You wasted your money, Trav. We said all we needed to when we met with the lawyer.”
“Not hardly.” The smile left his eyes. “I was served with divorce papers the day after I returned from a classified mission. The meeting with the attorney was set for less than a week later.”
“At which point you evoked the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Civil Relief Act to delay the proceedings for another ninety days!”
“Only because you—”
He broke off and blew out a slow breath. With a nod that encompassed the elbow-to-elbow tourists cocooning them in a bubble of noise and laughter, he tried again.
“Cm’on, Kate. Let me at least buy you a glass of vino. All of you,” he added belatedly.
“You bet your booty all of us,” Dawn shot back.
“And only if Kate feels inclined to accept your invitation,” Callie put in coolly but no less adamantly.
The Invincibles ride again.
* * *
Their united front didn’t surprise Travis any more than their fierce protectiveness. He’d known from day one that Kate and her two friends were closer than most sisters. Different personalities, different family backgrounds, but so many shared interests and experiences that they could finish each other’s sentences.
And as different as they were physically, each one spelled trouble for the male of the species. With her auburn hair, vivacious personality and lush curves, Dawn drew men like a magnet. Callie was quieter, more reserved, the kind of attentive listener who made men think they were a whole lot smarter than they really were.
But it was Kate who’d sparked his interest that snowy November day. She’d been bundled into a bulky jacket, her brown eyes barely visible above the scarf muffling the lower half of her face, her curly blond hair streaming from a colorful knit stocking cap.
Her lower half hadn’t been as bulked up as the upper half. Her snug jeans had given Travis plenty of opportunity to admire world-class legs above calf-high black suede boots, trim hips and a nice little butt. Yet he’d sensed instantly the whole was so much more than the sum of those enticing parts. Maybe it was the intelligence in those cinnamon-brown eyes. Or the smile when she nudged the scarf down with her chin. Or the way she countered Aaron’s teasing with a quick quip.
Whatever it was, by the time Travis headed back to UMass, he was halfway in love and all the way in lust. He’d plunged in the rest of the way in the two years that followed, a hectic time crammed with weekend visits to either his campus or hers and shared summer adventures. Then had come USAF officer training school, followed by the thrill of being accepted for flight school. When Kate flew down to pin on his air force pilot’s wings, he’d capped the ceremony with an engagement ring. Between her grad school and his follow-on flight training, it had been another two years before he slid the matching diamond-studded wedding band on her finger.
He’d caught the sparkle of that band when she tossed the coin a few minutes ago. The sight had given him a visceral satisfaction that sliced deep. His rational mind understood a wedding band was merely a symbol. A more primal male instinct viewed it as something more primitive, more possessive. Kate of the laughing brown eyes and lively mind was his mate, his woman, the only one he’d ever wanted to share his life with. And knowing she still wore his ring only intensified Travis’s determination to see she didn’t take it off.
That would take some doing. He couldn’t deny their marriage had hit the skids. He knew his frequent deployments had strained it to the breaking point. Knew, too, that he hadn’t sent a strong enough hands off signal to the young captain who’d mistaken his interest in her career for something a lot more personal. Travis still kicked himself for not handling that situation with more finesse. Especially since she’d reacted to his rejection by putting a fanciful but too-close-to-the-truth post about her involvement with a certain sexy C-130 pilot on Facebook.
He’d had no excuse for letting the captain get so close in the first place. None that Kate had bought, anyway. And it didn’t help that his wife’s intelligence and quick smile came packaged with a stubborn streak that would make a Kentucky mule look like a wuss in comparison. She took her time and weighed all factors before making a major decision. Once she did, however, that was it. Period. Finito. Done.
Not this time, he swore fiercely. Not this time.
Under Massachusetts law, a divorce didn’t become final until three months after issuance of a nisi judgment. That gave Travis exactly two weeks to breach the chasm caused by so many separations and one exercise of monumental stupidity. Determined to win back the wife he still ached for, he issued a challenge he knew she wouldn’t refuse.
“Too scared to share a bottle of wine, sweetheart?”
“What do you think?”
The disdainful lift of her brows told him she knew exactly what he was doing, but Travis held his ground.
“What I think,” he returned, “is that we should get out of this crowd and enjoy the really excellent chianti I have waiting.”
The raised brows came together in a frown. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, Kate debated for several moments before turning to her friends.
“Why don’t you two go on to the Piazza Navona? I’ll catch up with you there. Or,” she amended with a glance at the shadows creeping down the columned facade behind the fountain, “back at the hotel.”
“We shouldn’t separate,” Callie protested. “Rome’s a big city, and a woman alone makes a tempting target.”
Travis blinked. Damned if the slender brunette hadn’t just impugned his manhood, his combat skills and his ability to fend off pickpockets and mashers.
“She won’t be alone,” he said drily. “And I think I can promise to keep her out of the line of fire.”
“Riiiight.” The redhead on Kate’s other side bristled. “And we all know what your promises are worth, Westbrook.”
Jaw locked, he heroically refrained from suggesting that a woman who’d left two grooms stranded at the altar probably shouldn’t sling stones. His wife read the signs, though, and hastily intervened.
“It’s okay,” Kate told her self-appointed guard dogs. “Travis and I can remain civil long enough to share a glass of wine. Maybe. Go on. I’ll see you at the hotel.”
The still-aggressive Dawn would have argued the issue, but Callie tugged her arm. The redhead settled for giving Travis a final watch-yourself glare before yielding the field.
“Whew,” he murmured as the two women wove through the crowd. “Good thing neither of them was armed.
