Reserved (13 page)

“Cleaner and inventory queen at your service.” Kenna reached into the bags she brought in and held up rags and wood polish.

Travis managed to pull his eyes away from her knee, dismissed his stupidity, and went back to thinking about the voicemail his mother had left him last night saying that everyone would be in town for the USC game next week. John and Avery were coming too, and “it would be great if the whole family could get together.” He’d deleted the message. He would call her back, just not today.

“Where’s Logan?” Kenna asked.

“Where’s Paige?”

“You go first.” She took a sip from the plastic cup she’d brought with her.

“He’s late; slept in.” Travis wiggled his eyebrows.

“Wow, thanks for that visual.”

“Your turn, where’s Paige?”

“Grandparents.”

Travis tripped a little at the term. He kept forgetting Makenna had in-laws. That she’d been married before.

“Do you like them?”

“Adam’s parents? Yes, they’re good people.”

Adam, another word, another name he didn’t often hear. Paige’s father, Makenna’s husband. She loved him, Travis could tell, even though the twisted pain of what she had lost had all but faded from her eyes.

“Is it weird?” fell out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about being sensitive. “Sorry, that was a stupid question. You don’t need to answer that.”

“Is what weird?”

“Being around his parents without him.”

Tilting her head in thought, she set down the dust cloths and polish. “I don’t know that weird is the right word. They take Paige twice a year and have since Adam died, so I’m used to it now. But it’s always a little . . . sore. His father looks like him so that can be a bit . . . weird. Yeah, I guess it is weird.” Kenna looked down and opened her laptop.

“Does Paige look like him?”
What’s with the twenty questions, genius?

Kenna seemed to jump at little at the question, but then beamed at the mention of her daughter. “She does. Haven’t you ever seen a picture of Adam?”

Travis shook his head and wondered why he was suddenly so curious. They’d finally made their way back to normal. All he needed now was to ask the wrong questions and make her uncomfortable again.

Makenna took out her phone, tapped the screen a few times, and her face softened into an odd mix of light and sadness. She was so beautiful in all her complications. She turned the phone to him and there he was—Adam. Tall, tan, and sporting longer blond hair. He sort of looked like a surfer—like Mr. California. He was holding a bundle in a pink blanket and smiling for the camera. Travis felt a punch to his chest and found himself staring at the man’s eyes, the look on his face as he held a daughter he only knew for five weeks. It struck Travis that he knew more about that pink bundle, about the man’s daughter, than he ever would. Life was so screwed up sometimes. He was glued to the picture.

Makenna cleared her throat and Travis forced himself to look at her, completely surprised to see her smiling, the sadness gone. “So, that’s Adam. Mystery uncovered. That was a few days before he was gone. Strange, huh?”

“You have no idea. I mean, I guess you do. It’s . . . you’ve been through more than most, Kenna.”

“I know.” She glanced at the picture one last time and put the phone back into the pocket of her jeans.

She looked up at him and their eyes held. Travis reached out and touched the side of her face. He needed to touch her; it was almost as if his heart was confirming that she was real and not part of the picture she’d just put away. She was. Her cheek was soft and he felt her tense at his touch.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For what happened.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“I know, but sometimes when we are teasing or I’m giving you a hard time, I forget.”

“I like it that way, thank you. I’m not sure I could bear it if you treated me like I’m some kind of—”

He touched her face again, this time moving his hand past her jaw and just onto her neck. Her chest pulled in a quick breath.

“Soft, so soft. You wouldn’t want me to treat you like you were soft?”

“Right.” She stepped back from him.

Travis could have laughed and shrugged the awkward intimacy of the moment off, but he honestly couldn’t move. He found himself wanting her in a way that felt so foreign because it had absolutely nothing to do with getting her naked. He wanted to pull her into him, touch her, and make her laugh.

Makenna cleared her throat again and Travis finally snapped out of it.

“Damn, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“How’s the dating going?”
Great transition, idiot.
He could see her physically recoil at the abrupt change.

“It . . . it’s not. I had a couple of what we daters now call a ‘coffee trail,’ but I’m starting to figure out that it’s not them. I mean, sure, my first date was a nightmare—”

Travis barked, and Kenna smiled and they were back to normal.

“He really was, but some of these other guys are fine. Great even, but I don’t want to get to know them. I don’t care about their stories and for the life of me, I can’t imagine ever telling them any of mine, let alone introducing them to my life, my daughter. See, it’s me. I never realized it until I got out there a little, but I’d much rather be here, working or hanging out with my family or Sage. I’m sure some single women get excited about dinners or learning about a new man, but I just feel awkward. I’d much rather stay home and read a good book.”

“That can be fun, but pretty solitary.”

“Do you read, Travis?”

“I do.”

“What kind of books?”

He could tell she fully expected him to say something like
Playboy
or James Bond, and he could have, but this was the first real conversation he’d had with a woman in a while. Actually, since his last conversation with Makenna, and he wanted to keep it going for just a little longer.

“I like mysteries, crime or spy stuff. It needs to be fast moving, because I have a short attention span. I’m sure you’re shocked.”

Makenna laughed and was now picking at the edges of the white dust cloth she held.

“I like Patterson,” he continued. “Although I’m really into Daniel Silva lately. I always feel like I’ve been on a really cool vacation after I read one of his.”

Kenna’s mouth was almost open. He enjoyed the response he got when he was honest and genuine with her. She never expected him to be human; it threw her for a loop, which was added fun.

“Daniel Silva? I love Daniel Silva. I’ve read them all. I just finished
The English Spy,
which wasn’t my favorite but still brilliant. I honestly don’t know why Ciara puts up with him. That scene where he paints over her clouds, what was that? Oh, wait, have you read it yet?”

She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known, had sex with, or otherwise. He wasn’t sure if it came from being raised by a single father and two brothers or living on the farm or having a daughter on her own. He had no idea what made her who she was, but he offered up thanks for whatever created Makenna Rye Conroy and put her in his life. She was full of feeling. Unafraid to show she was trying new things. Maybe that’s why his eyes refused to look away. He shook his head indicating that he had yet to read
The English Spy
.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll shut up then because I hate when people spoil it for me. Logan and Garrett both do that. I’ll just say that Gabriel Allon is one of my favorite book boyfriends. He’s a close second to Roark from the In Death Series, which is really saying something.”

“Ken?”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Fine, Makenna.”

The sound of her name, her full name, sent a chill up his neck. He was sure he’d said her name before, hadn’t he? Whenever he thought of her, which was more and more frequently these days, he always thought—Makenna. From the look in her eyes, it seemed like she was savoring warm coffee, maybe with a little Bailey’s in it. Based on her expression, he was sure he’d never said her full name before. She was hearing him say it for the first time.

“Makenna,” he said again just for fun.

“Yes, what?”

“I like the way that sounds. It’s a nice name.”

“Thank you. Yours is nice too, although I hate it when people call you Trav. It makes you sound, I don’t know, like you have a big gold chain around your neck and you wear sweatbands.”

“Tube socks too.”

“Yup, throw those in. Trav is like a Will Ferrell character, but Travis is more . . . Paul Newman. I like it.”

“
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
, Newman, or
The Hustler
, Newman?”

Makenna appeared to mentally scroll through her catalogue of Paul Newman films. “No, I’m thinking more
Cool Hand Luke
, Newman.” She met his eyes and he felt the neck shiver thing again.
Cool Hand Luke
was his favorite Newman movie. Did she know that?

Travis laughed off his feelings. “Great. I’ll let my mother know you approve. Give me those cans of tomatoes, will you?”

She handed up the four cans. “Huh.”

“What?” He stacked the cans and turned to her for four more.

“I’ve never thought of your mother. What’s she like?”

“She’s a mom.”

“Well, of course she is. I meant what’s she like.”

“That is what she’s like. She was born to be a mom and she does it really well. Carpools, cookies, PTA, all of our football games with a cooler. She’s that kind of mom. Her name is even Mary.”

“Wow, I think I know some Marys at Paige’s school. Does she wear great clothes too?”

“Always.” He took the last of the cans and climbed down the step stool.

“Monogrammed towels?”

Travis nodded.

“Summer camp every year.”

“Spring and Christmas family portraits,” he added.

“She’s the works. Do you like her?”

Travis skipped a beat. “I’m not sure anyone has ever asked me that. Yes, I do like her. Well, let’s put it this way, I love her. She’s a great mom and has always been there for me, so long as I stayed in line. Do I like her, who she is, and what she represents? I’m not sure.”

“Huh,” she said as they moved down the wall to the rice and grains.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m too nosy.”

“I’m an open book.”

“You are certainly not.” Kenna typed figures into her laptop.

“Um, yes I am. Nothing to hide.”

“That’s not true. We all have things we hide.”

“Ask me anything. Right after you hand me those bags of lentils.”

She handed several bags to him.

“Fine. Are your brothers nice?”

Travis laughed. “Nice? Why, are you thinking of dating one?”

She swatted him with the last two bags of lentils. “See, you’re avoiding with humor. It’s okay. I do that too.”

“I’m not avoiding anything. My brothers are competitive. That’s how we were raised. John is successful and he wins. He always wins.”

“He’s the older one, right?”

“Yeah, he’s a coach at USC. He played college ball, quarterback, and two years with the 49ers until his rotator cuff gave out for good. Surgeries and lots of PT. When he healed, schools were falling over themselves for him. He’s the second in command at USC football. He’ll probably be a head coach before he’s forty-five.”

There was an awkward silence, but Travis found himself screwed up just thinking about his brother. The guy didn’t even need to be in the room to rattle his cage. Travis moved bags and boxes around on the shelves with pinpoint focus. Yes, he was angry—filled with it sometimes. That’s why he’d taken up boxing, but it clearly wasn’t working.

“Oh,” she finally said.

Travis glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I’ve just never heard such a . . . rote description. You should do his PR.”

He could tell she was trying to lighten things up, but his shit—the energy spilling off of him at the thought of his brother—was probably freaking her out. Apparently, his open book was a scary one. He pulled in a deep breath, let it go slowly, and turned to her, leaning up against the section of shelving he’d just whipped into shape as if it were a Little League team. “Sorry, but that’s John. He’s the golden boy. Family hero.”

“I see. What is Andrew?” It was interesting that she assumed everyone in his family had a part. They did. Very perceptive, but he guessed every family had players. He’d told her he was honest, an open book, but as the tension crawled into his shoulders, he decided that was a stupid reveal. He continued. No turning back now.

“Drew is the prodigy. He was their midlife baby. Nine years after me. Three-sport all-star athlete. Third draft pick. He’s a halfback for the 49ers. Second string, but still my father’s wet dream. Finally.”

Yeah, the look on her face told him she had never seen this side of him, and she probably didn’t want to because most people preferred fun, flirty Travis. Needing to break the awkwardness again, he grabbed the bags of flour and stacked them under the shelves.

“And you are?” She touched his back, and Travis froze.

He wondered if he could pretend he hadn’t heard her. He turned and wiped his forearm across his forehead. She wanted to know the role he played. Yeah, it was time to close the family album. How the hell did they end up on this subject in the first place? Oh right, he had nothing to hide.
Stupid ass.

“Okay, well, this looks great. Much better.” He crossed his arms and pivoted around the large space. “Did you record all of the inventory you needed?”

Makenna nodded, saying nothing. He could feel the questions circling in her mind.

“They’ll all be here next week, so I’m sure you’ll get to meet ‘the fam.’ It’s a treat, believe me.”

“They sound pretty perfect. What’s the problem?”

“Oh, they are perfect. That is the problem. All the pieces fit together. Hell, last summer they even vacationed together.”

“They? Aren’t you part of ‘they’? A piece?”

Travis laughed.
A piece of shit,
he thought but didn’t say. “There’s nothing perfect about me. We all know that.”

The slightest spark flashed in her eyes and then it was gone. Makenna finished her inventory on her laptop and packed it into her bag. They both walked back toward the kitchen and Travis hit the light. Makenna turned to him in the doorway, the glow from the kitchen highlighting her expression. She touched his face, looked at his lips, but leaned in to kiss his cheek instead. He thought about turning so she’d kiss his lips, but when he kissed Makenna for the first time, allowed himself to taste her, he didn’t want it to be an accident.
When
he kissed her? Christ, he was in trouble.