she should have known that wouldn’t be enough. Travis had grown up in a small paper-mill town, a rough and tumble place where he’d learned to push for what he wanted and fight when necessary. Polite platitudes and dressed-up words wouldn’t put him off.
“Then we’ll talk later. After the reception. You tell me a good time and I’ll make it happen.” He took a step toward her. “Midnight. Six in the morning. Three days from now. I don’t care. I’ll be available.”
“Travis.” She didn’t finish. He didn’t give her the chance.
“I’m only asking for one conversation. Just one and then you’ll never have to talk to me again.”
The old Mal would have agreed. Would have heard him out. But the old Mal had been burned by this man and she shied away from allowing it to happen a second time. “I should go. Say hello to the other guests.”
She walked away before he could say anything else. She couldn’t listen to it, not now. And with each footfall, the surprise and shock of Travis’s homecoming turned to something she could hang on to. Something sharp and hot and angry.
Mal headed around the house, following the same path Owen had earlier. Seriously, if it wasn’t his wedding she’d have had to kill him. In fact, she might have to do it anyway. Grace would understand. There were certain behaviors that were just not okay. Forcing your sister into a chat with her ex ranked right up there.
“What were you thinking, Owen?” She didn’t care that she was interrupting him making out with Grace. They should be out mingling with the crowd, anyway.
“Busy here, Mal,” Owen said, his eyes still on Grace. But then that was nothing new. When Grace was in the vicinity, Owen’s eyes tracked her. Even now, when she was pressed up against the side of the house with nowhere to go and his arms around her, Owen’s gaze shifted when Grace did. Mal pretended she didn’t remember that Travis had once been the same around her.
“Yes, I can see that. But I’d like you to explain why you dragged me into a conversation with Travis.” Even now, Mal could feel the flush of embarrassment warm her cheeks. She was glad the reception was outdoors, and although it had been an unseasonably warm March, it was hardly summer weather.
“Looks like you survived.” He stroked a finger down Grace’s cheek.
Grace caught his hand and turned her attention to Mal. “What did he do now?”
“Now?” Owen feigned shock. “You act like this is a common occurrence.” He cupped Grace’s face this time and she kissed him.
As Mal watched, her brother’s entire body softened. A flicker of jealousy rose, but she slapped it down quickly. She wasn’t jealous of her brother, not either of them, although they’d both gotten married within the past few months while she, the only one who’d even been in a serious relationship eighteen months ago, was flying solo. But she missed having someone. The companionship, the love, the sex. She pushed that flicker away, too.
“It was bad enough that he dragged me over, but it was the ditching me with him and coming here to make out. Did you really think that through, Owen?”
“So, things didn’t go well?” Owen pulled his gaze away from his bride long enough to frown. “I thought you were okay with the fact that I’m still friends with him.”
She was. She totally was. Hadn’t she sent him off to visit Travis when he’d been in need of a friend and denying his feelings for Grace? “Your being friends with him doesn’t mean I am.” Could he not understand that?
Grace was giving her husband the same look Mal was. “Owen.”
Owen turned back to her. “He misses her.”
Mal felt a jolt rock her. She locked her knees again. Collapsing against the house in front of her brother and new sister-in-law would be as bad as falling prone in front of Travis. Well, almost as bad. “He doesn’t miss me.”
And even if he did, it didn’t matter, didn’t change anything. They were still broken up. She was still mad. And she’d still found him with his face buried between another woman’s thighs.
“Did you even talk to him?” Owen was twirling the ends of Grace’s hair through his fingers and the two of them were making googly eyes, which was to be expected, Mal supposed, considering it was their wedding day.
She swallowed. She should respect that this was a special day for them, a special day for her, too, since they were adding another wonderful woman to the family. No one needed to listen to her whine about Travis. Certainly not the bride and groom. “You know what? How about we just agree that you won’t do it again and I’ll leave you two to get back to your...” She waved a hand to encompass whatever they might get up to and then began walking away.
“Mal,” Grace called to her over Owen’s shoulder.
Mal turned around slowly. She really didn’t want to get an eyeful of whatever Owen might be doing to Grace. “Yes?”
“Do you need us to come with you?” She elbowed Owen when he let out a groan. “You started this. We aren’t going to let your sister go back out there alone if she needs support.”
“I’m fine.” Now she just felt foolish for having brought it up in the first place. Time and place. Neither of which were here and now. “You stay and enjoy yourselves. I’ll be okay. Really.” She even gave a brief nod to fully reassure them that she could handle herself and would not be in need of assistance. That would be assuming Travis kept his distance.
Too bad she couldn’t get any reassurance about that.
* * *
TRAVIS WATCHED THE side of the house where Mal had disappeared. He made himself stay where he was rather than chase after her, even though it nearly killed him. He’d known he missed her, but actually seeing her in person, being close enough to touch, brought it all home. He’d been a fool to let her go. Yes, she’d caught him off guard when she’d suddenly sprung the news that she wasn’t coming back to Aruba, but he’d handled it poorly.
He could see now that, in her shoes, he’d have done the same thing. In fact, was doing so now, coming back to be closer to his grandma and his family. Closer to Mal.
She was thinner than she used to be. She didn’t fill out her dress the way she would have a year ago, but she still looked better in person than in his imagination. Her hair was longer, the dark locks falling halfway down her back. It suited her, filed away some of those hard businesswoman edges. And her eyes were the same deep brown; he remembered the way they’d darken when she looked at him, widen as she reached for him to touch or tease, to press a kiss to his cheek or shoulder. Damn, he missed those days. He wanted them back.
Maybe he should go after her. She’d disappeared around the side of the house, but there weren’t that many places she could go. Not in those pale blue high heels that looked as if they could pierce a man’s heart with one good stomp.
Instead, he gripped the bottle of water he held more tightly and told himself that he had time. He was back now. For good. He didn’t need to rush things. He would take his time, show her that he meant what he said and then he’d slowly win her over. That was the plan. It was his only plan.
What he wouldn’t give
