Finding Refuge (6 page)

“Fine. Travis is a really nice guy.”

He turned a penetrating gaze on her. “Then why are you
drowning your sorrows in ice cream?”

She stopped herself before she denied it, because it had
finished up that way. Well, not drowning sorrows so much as smothering desire,
but the concept correlated. “I’m fine, really. He’s easy to talk to, and we had
a lovely time.”

Ian leaned on the table, pushing his forelock out of his
face, a concerned expression in his brown eyes. “He’d better have behaved
himself. You’re a sweet girl, Andri, and he’s a bit of a player lately. Haven’t
seen him with the same girl twice.”

Rachel snorted. “Travis is harmless. It’s Danny who’s
trouble.”

Ian nodded. “Fact.”

Andri bit her tongue to keep from asking for details. She didn’t
want to get involved, couldn’t let herself get wrapped up in whatever drama
Travis was coping with in his family. She knew better.

The microwave dinged and Ian pulled his plate out. “Anyone
want to come watch TV with me? I might even let you hold the remote.”

Rachel agreed. Andri tagged along, glad for the distraction,
and dropped onto one end of the family room couch. She’d enjoyed Travis’s
company, all of it, from the small talk to the searing heat of his kiss. But
there was a whole network server full of baggage locked up inside the man,
probably riddled with malware and viruses too, and she knew better than to let
herself consider getting involved with him. She’d pay for it too dearly.

Chapter Four

“Earth to Travis.”

He caught the sound of his father’s voice at the edge of his
thoughts and wrenched himself into the moment. Travis looked up, surprised to
see Terrence Holt sitting on the edge of his oak office desk, a stack of papers
clutched in his beefy hand. “Morning, Dad.”

Terrence’s salt-and-pepper brows knitted. “You awake today,
son?”

Travis scrubbed his fingers through his hair and yawned.
“I’m tired. Haven’t been sleeping too well the last few nights.” Especially
last night. True to form, discovering Danny was getting into trouble again
brought the dreams back. The anguish knotted around his heart and left him
drained when he woke up. He’d kill for a solid eight or even ten hours, but he
knew from bitter experience how many more restless nights he faced before his
brain would finally let him sleep in peace.

His dad reached over and patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry
to hear that. Did you notify all the subs about the change in start dates for
the Bridlewood shopping center?”

“Peggy did yesterday.” His office manager had kept his head
above water here while he sorted himself out on the job. It was probably time
to give the woman another raise.

“Good, good.” Terrence surveyed the folders, plans and
assorted paperwork filed by pile on the desk surface. “You’re looking busy.”

“I am, thanks for noticing.”

“You ought to dish some of this off on Danny. Give the boy
something a little meatier to do.”

Travis leaned forward in his leather chair. “Is Dan here
today?”

His father nodded. “Just talked to him on my way in here.”

Well, that was a step in the right direction. Danny really
had been more reliable since his last stint in rehab, up until this week when
he fell off the wagon again. Maybe having to retrieve him from Misty’s
yesterday was a solitary blip on the road to recovery.

Travis cranked down on the relief trying to surge inside
him. Much as his heart wanted to believe Danny was okay, his head knew better.
Danny wasn’t out of danger, not by a long shot. Still, his appearance in the
office felt downright positive.

“I’m really glad he’s here,” Travis said. “Every time he
doesn’t show up, I panic.”

Terrence shook his head and sighed. “Son, you have to stop
that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop spending all your energy worrying about Daniel.”

“He needs help, Dad.”

“And you’ve given him help. But at some point, you have to
let him live the life he chooses, Travis. He’s going to do what he’s going to
do. You can’t force him to live your way.”

God, that was cold. Worse, it sounded like his mother
talking rather than his father. “I can’t let him self-destruct.”

“You can’t let your life hang in the balance of whether he
decides to straighten up or not.”

Frustration simmered inside Travis. “Well, he’s here. I’ll
go put him to work.”

“I need to get back to work myself.” Terrence eased off the
desk, then winced and put a hand on his chest.

Travis jumped up, a ripple of fear coursing down his spine,
and grasped his father’s elbow to steady him. “Dad, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. I think I have a respiratory thing coming on.
My breathing just gets a little tight lately, and it makes my chest hurt. I
need to have Dr. Shandel call something in for me.”

“You should probably go in for an appointment.”

His father shrugged. “I just had a checkup six months ago,
and I’m the healthiest sixty-four-year-old he’s ever examined. But if the doc
thinks he should see me, I promise, I’ll go in.”

Travis hadn’t noticed quite how the years weighed on his
father until that moment. Terrence Holt didn’t hold his big frame quite as
straight and tall as he had in his prime. His hair had thinned considerably and
filled with white, all without Travis realizing it. He’d put so much energy
into Danny that he hadn’t spent enough time with his father lately. “Hey, Dad,
I hear that new World War II movie is pretty good. Why don’t we take off early
one day next week and go see it?”

Terrence beamed at him, a wide grin showing the dimples
Travis inherited. “Sounds great, son. How about Tuesday? I can clear my
schedule if you can clear yours.”

“For you, I’d cancel anything.” Travis gave his father’s
shoulders a squeeze and watched him walk out the door.

Travis yawned again, running a hand through his hair. He
added his father to the mental list of crap to worry about, then grabbed the
roll of blueprints for the Okada house and walked into his brother’s office.

Danny sat at his drafting table, leaning into his work as he
sketched. Travis stepped behind his brother, watching the gorgeous facade of a
Victorian-style house flow from Danny’s pencil onto the paper. His brother had
always preferred drawing on paper, even though nearly everything else he did
was computerized.

Travis waited silently as his brother completed the act of
creation. While Travis had skills, he was no artist. In addition to Mother’s looks,
Danny inherited her talent. Beauty, whether classic, modern or whimsical,
sprang from Danny’s fingers when he worked. Travis had long since outgrown his
jealousy to become quite proud of his brother’s abilities.

Abilities he hated to see thrown away when Danny’s
addictions got the best of him.

Danny finished and shifted to the left, giving Travis a
better view of the creation. Two stories, dormer windows, scrolled gingerbread
accents under the eaves and decorating the wraparound porch. Full stone front.
Knowing Danny, the final layout would come in around eight thousand square feet
above ground, plus basement. On a nice acre and a half or two…He did the
estimate in his head. Two point five, maybe two point six million dollars worth
of new Victorian luxury, easy.

“What do you think?”

Travis met his brother’s gaze, saw the need for approval
reflected in the deep blue. “It’s beautiful.”

His eyes lit up. “Thanks. I’ve been thinking about it for a
while, wanted to get it on paper.” Danny flexed his fingers and popped his
knuckles, eyeing the roll of plans Travis carried. “What’s up?”

Travis handed the blueprints to his brother. Danny slid his
new drawing onto a wide shelf above the table, then opened the plans of a
sprawling ranch house.

“Go to the main floor.”

Danny flipped through the pages of elevations until he came
to the main floor layout. He laid the plans on the table, using the clips at
the top to secure the curled pages. His mouth pursed as he examined the plans,
shaking his head. “What idiot drew these?

Travis laughed. “I thought that would be your reaction. The
Okadas had them drawn up years ago, but now that they’re ready to build, they
want some changes.”

Danny crossed his arms over his chest. “I should hope so.
The design is terrible. There’s no natural flow to the layout. They’ll feel
like rats in a maze, scurrying from room to room.”

“Mrs. Okada wants a more open design, but I don’t think she
has specific ideas about how to change it. Will you meet with them and help
them figure it out?”

“When are they coming in?”

“Whenever Peggy makes an appointment for them.” Wait, maybe
that was a bad idea. Travis added, “Or, do you want to call them?”

Danny’s eyes darkened. “Afraid I’ll space off an
appointment, Travis?”

Travis met his gaze directly, sliding into his business mode
in an effort to keep emotion out of the argument he felt brewing in the air.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

His brother picked up his drafting pencil, twirled it around
his fingers. “I won’t fail you. I mean, I’m here, aren’t I? I promised I’d be
here today, and I am.”

Travis bristled inside at the defensiveness in Danny’s
voice. “Is that what I have to do? Make you promise every day that you’ll be
here the next? Will that keep you out of trouble?”

Danny laughed bitterly. “That’s rich. When did you and Dad
switch roles? He’s just happy to see me when I come in, but you come down on me
like I’m a teenager you’ve caught sneaking into the house after curfew and
smelling like beer.”

Travis drew a deep breath, steadying his temper. “I dragged
you out of that foul apartment yesterday. You’re fresh off a four-day bender.
Now I’m supposed to take your word for it that you’ll actually come in and earn
your salary?”

His brother’s jaw ticked and if he hadn’t been so angry, he
would have withered under Danny’s glare. “I made a mistake, Travis. One
mistake. Yeah, I fell off the wagon. You have no idea how ashamed I am, and how
much it bothers me that I can slip up so easily. I don’t need your guilt trip
when I can put myself on one so well.”

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, the
tension weighing heavily in Travis’s lungs. Finally, he leaned forward and
clasped his brother’s shoulder. “I know you’re trying, Dan. Are you taking your
antidepressants?”

Danny cursed. “I hate those things. They wipe me out. And
they’re drugs, too, you know. All I’m doing with that shit is exchanging an
illegal fix for a legal one. It isn’t a real solution, it’s a crutch.”

“There’s nothing wrong with using a crutch until you heal.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Travis stepped back, loosening the tension between them with
space. “Fine. Do you want Peggy to set up an appointment with the Okadas?”

“Yes, whenever is convenient for them.” Danny paused, then said,
“I’m here to work, Travis. I’ll do my job. Trust me.”

Travis left Danny’s office and stopped by Peggy’s desk long
enough to ask the grandmotherly woman to take care of the appointment. He
closed his office door behind him, then stood by the windows and stared out at
the mountains that bordered Salt Lake City. He clenched his fists, then relaxed
them purposefully, trying by force of will to unwind the tension in his
muscles.
Trust me.
He wanted to, so much that his
chest ached and his shoulders were rock hard with the strain.

Unfortunately, he knew better. Damn, it hurt to recognize
that he couldn’t trust his brother. He’d hope for the best with Danny, all the
while waiting for the other shoe to drop.

****

The next several days ran smoother than Travis expected.
Unfortunately, that left him with a lot of time to think, and what kept
surfacing in his otherwise orderly thoughts was a curvy little thing with
gorgeous hair, an incredible smile that filled him with sunlight, and a kiss
that made him hard if he thought about it too long.

One week after he’d taken Andri to dinner, he checked the
schedule to figure out which jobsite he’d have to visit to run into Rachel. If
Andri was still in town, she’d probably be on the job, playing gofer. Stupid as
the idea was, he wanted to see her again. So he’d called her. She didn’t answer
and she didn’t return his call. He’d texted. Nothing. And damn, rather than
being smart and taking the hint with a huge sigh of relief, he’d found himself
more intent on seeing her again.
Stupid
.

He left the office for a late lunch and drove to a custom
home under construction in Draper. He went through the house, anticipation
winding through his gut, until he spotted Rachel running wiring on the upper
floor. “Hey, Rach.”

She looked up from pulling wiring through the hole into a
box. “Hey, yourself. I’m a little miffed at you.”

He leaned against the door jamb. “What did I do now?”

“Oh, no,” she said, pointing a staple gun at him. “It’s what
you didn’t do.”

Ah. That was it. “I didn’t call Andri.” Well, he had, but
nothing had come of it. To Rachel it would probably be the same thing.

“He shoots, he scores. So, what, you didn’t like her, maybe
because you have the brains of an amoeba?”

He hated it when she got snippy with him. She was the annoying
sister he never had. “Of course I like her. Where is she?”

“Doing something besides being my slave girl. You didn’t
call. I hate guys who don’t call.”

Arguing that he had, in fact, called wouldn’t help him. She
was on a roll. “Does she want me to call?”

She grumbled under her breath. “No, but that’s beside the
point. She likes you, but she’s kind of a mess right now, not that she’ll
really admit it.”

“Want me to be honest with you?”