Almost Beautiful, page 15
“Pigeon. Let me be a man and take my wife out to celebrate, please?”
I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile. “Somewhere I can wear a dress and not look ridiculous.”
The other students began spilling out of the double doors and down the steps, parting once they reached Travis and me.
He only thought for a few seconds before his brows pulled together. There was only one nice restaurant in town: Biasetti’s.
Immediately, regret washed over me.
Travis made a face. “You thinking Biasetti’s? Parker’s parents’ place?”
Travis was still raw from my coffee not-date before the poker game. I knew better than to make such a stupid mistake.
I shook my head. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. We don’t have to go there.”
He stared at me a moment, and I could almost see the wheels spinning behind his eyes. His shoulders relaxed, and he smiled. “It is the nicest place in town, and I’m dyin’ to see you in a dress. It’s about time we make our own memories there, don’t you think?”
“It’s okay, Trav. We can drive to Chicago and spend the night. Go somewhere so fancy we can’t pronounce the food.”
“Pidge, that’s over an hour away.” He narrowed his eyes at me, and then smiled. “You wanna wear a dress and eat fancy pasta? Then you’re gonna wear a dress and eat fancy pasta. Mrs. Maddox gets whatever she wants.”
He lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder. I protested, but he ignored me, tromping down the steps, taking the path toward the parking lot. “Because why?”
I squealed. “Put me down!”
“Say it!” he said, playfully smacking my backside.
I squealed again, so overcome with laughter I could barely speak. “Because you’re the best husband ever.”
“Louder!” he said, twirling.
I screamed. “You’re the best husband ever!”
He stopped abruptly and lowered me to my feet.
I giggled, out of breath from the struggle.
He watched me for a while and then grabbed my hand, leading me to the car. He sniffed, standing tall. “Damn right, I am.”
My seatbelt clicked, and Travis reached over to give it a tug—a small habit he’d picked up since Trenton’s accident. We drove in the direction of Trenton and Camille’s apartment—another new part of our daily routine.
Travis drove our Camry to the far side of town, parking at the last building of the Highland Ridge apartments, a property that was mostly full of young professionals and newlyweds instead of rowdy college kids.
I followed Travis upstairs, waiting only long enough for him to knock and walk in. I stopped wondering why none of the Maddoxes waited for someone to answer. Travis insisted if he wasn’t supposed to walk in to one of his brothers’ residences, the door would be locked.
Trenton was lying on the couch with his casted arm perched atop a pillow on his lap. He held the remote in the other hand.
“What the fuck are you watching?” Travis asked, his nose wrinkled.
“Dr. Phil,” Trenton said. “It’s so fucked up. These people are bat shit crazy and that bald fucker exploits the hell out of them, all for free therapy. They promised this chick her ex wouldn’t be there. Well guess what? He’s fuckin’ there and she repeats their agreement and that son-of-a-bitch yells at her and tells her to leave if she doesn’t like it, that it’s his show. I would’ve left. What a piece of shit.”
Travis and I traded glances, and then we sat on the couch next to Trenton.
“Cami’s at work?” Travis asked.
“Yep,” Trenton said. “I’m glad you stopped by. I’m driving her nuts, calling twenty times a day. I can’t work, so I clean and do laundry as best I can until she gets home. Watch Days of Our Lives and Dr. Phil. That Sami Brady is hot. I’d bag her.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Travis said, ripping the remote from Trenton’s hand. He turned off the TV and then tossed it to the recliner. It bounced but didn’t fall.
“Hey,” Trenton said with a frown.
“You should come workout with me at Iron E between clients,” Travis said.
“Yeah? How’s that going?”
“Brandon Kyle is a dick,” Travis grumbled.
Trenton nodded to me. “Is he?”
“I wouldn’t know. Travis doesn’t think it’s a good idea that I meet his boss.”
“Oh. Can’t keep his mouth shut, huh?” Trenton teased. “Does he still say his catch phrase all the time? It’s not what you know, but who you know?”
“Incessantly.” Travis looked to me. “It’s better for everyone if you don’t. That imbecile has no desire to live, apparently.” His eyes fell to the floor, but he snapped out of it quickly. “How’s Cami?”
“Good,” Trenton nodded. “She’s good. Apologizes every ten minutes. She still feels bad.”
“She should,” I grumbled, louder than I’d meant to.
“We were hit by a drunk driver, Abby,” Trenton said, defensive. “Yeah, she was driving upset, but she couldn’t have helped that. We had the right-of-way. Be nice, even if I know you’re just saying that because you love me.”
“Not really,” I teased, leaning over Travis to nudge Trenton’s pillow.
“Ow! Hey!” Trenton said with a smile.
Travis smirked. “You carried Cami for two miles with that arm. Now you can’t handle Pidge poking at you? What a vag.”
I chuckled. I loved nothing more than to sit back and watch the brothers interact. I could do it all day, every day.
They were either fighting, hugging, wrestling, defending, or insulting one another. It was adorable.
I had the family I’d always wanted.
Trenton ignored Travis’s jab, looking to me. “She really likes you, Abby. She wants you to like her.”
“I do,” I lied.
In truth, I didn’t care for Camille and never had, even when she was just Travis’s favorite bartender at The Red. I could never put my finger on what it was that rubbed me the wrong way, but even if she hadn’t been behind the wheel when my brother-in-law was hurt, she’d been dating Thomas and Trenton at the same time. That would have been the nail in the coffin for me had Travis not forced me to talk it out at his birthday party.
“She’s been through a lot. You can understand that. Cut her some slack,” Trenton said.
“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry, I’m trying. I really am, Trent. I know you love her and that’s enough for me.”
Travis reached over my lap and patted my outer thigh. His hand slapped against my skin, and he rubbed the spot he’d slapped, just in case it was too hard. He was a big guy and getting bigger every time he went to work. He acted like every time he touched me he might hurt me.
I chuckled.
“What?” Travis asked.
“I won’t break, no matter how big your muscles get.”
“I was going to say! Damn, son!” Trenton took a handful of Travis’s bicep and squeezed. “You’re getting fat!”
“Fat,” Travis repeated. “That’s all muscle, ball sack. You jealous?” he asked, flexing his arm. His upper arm grew so big and so tight, Trenton couldn’t keep his grip. It wasn’t until that moment, I realized exactly how much bigger Travis had gotten in just a few weeks.
“Pussy,” Trenton grumbled, leaning back.
“On that note,” I stood, adjusting my shorts. “We should go. Do you need anything Trent? Is Cami bringing dinner or …?”
“I’ve got dinner,” he said, waving us away. “Actually, she made me some frozen meals. I’m not sure I can eat it all. Poor thing. She’s dotes on me like I’m an invalid.”
“You kind of are,” Travis teased.
“Seriously, no one has ever taken care of me like she does. She’s already researching the best physical therapy methods, takes me to all my doc appointments and sits there soaking up every word the guy says. Asks questions, cooks me three meals a day and all while she’s healing, too.”
He looked so proud, and so desperate for me to approve, I allowed a small smile. “That’s really sweet.” I leaned over to kiss him on the forehead, and then I followed Travis out the door and down the steps.
Once we climbed inside the car, Travis jammed the keys in the ignition, twisting until the car rumbled to life. He sat back and sighed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“You miss riding your bike everywhere, don’t you? We can take it. I don’t mind. I miss it, too.”
He made a face. “I just wish you’d forget about the whole Cami driving upset thing, and the Tommy thing, and let her start over.”
I was taken aback. I wasn’t used to being on the wrong end of things, and this was twice in as many months. I also wasn’t used to Travis not trusting my intuition, but he was right. Camille was family. That aggravated me even more.
“You’ve always liked her,” I said, watching the young couple waiting as their Yorkie took a crap next to Trenton’s steps. “I just … haven’t.”
“She’s going to be your sister-in-law one of these days. You’ve got to iron out whatever it is. Trenton’s in love with her. You’ve gotta talk to her.”
“I don’t want to. I don’t think she’s going to be around that long.”
“Really?” Travis asked. “What makes you say that?”
“I think she’ll either move to California, or she’ll find someone else. She’s the type.”
Travis shook his head. “Don’t say that, Pidge. It’d break Trenton’s heart. And Tommy wouldn’t take her back, anyway. He loves Trent too much.”
“Not enough to stay away from her in the first place. Make no mistake. I’m pissed at him, too.”
“It’s none of our business, Pidge.”
I craned my neck at him. “Seriously? You’re so far up Trent’s ass you can see out his belly button. Brandon, too. You’re all up everyone else’s shit, but I have to mind my own business?” I touched my chest.
Travis chuckled and leaned in. I leaned away, still pouting, but that only made him laugh harder.
“What’s so funny?” I hissed.
“You’re just so damn hot when you’re mad. It’s ridiculous how much I need to touch you when you’re all red-faced and flustered.”
“I’m not red-faced.” I pouted.
“Oh my God, come here,” he said, reaching for me. He tried to kiss me, but I leaned away. As hard as I tried, he was just too strong, and that was somehow erotic.
“Quit!” I protested, but I didn’t fight too hard to keep him from planting his soft, warm lips on mine. It was times like this when it hit me that he belonged to me. It wasn’t a dream, a fantasy, or a chick flick. Travis Maddox was real, and I was married to him. I touched his cheeks and opened my mouth, allowing his tongue to slip inside.
A knock on the window prompted Travis to look up.
I sighed, raking my fingers through my hair as Travis pressed the button to roll down my window. “Oh. Hey, Cami.”
“Here for a visit?” she asked in a chipper voice.
She was too nice. Trying too hard. She knew I didn’t like her—not that I tried to keep it a secret.
“We, uh … we just left. We were on our way home,” Travis said.
“Oh,” Camille said, deflated.
“We can stay if you want,” Travis said. I pinched his side and he grunted, grabbing my hand. “For a few minutes. It’s date night.”
“Aw, that’s fun. I’ll be glad when Trent starts feeling better. It’s been a while since we’ve been on a date.”
“Well,” Travis began. I begged him with my eyes not to say it. “You guys can come with us if you want.”
Camille glanced at me and then shrugged. “Thanks, Trav, but we’re saving money right now. Another time, though. That sounds fun.”
We both waved to Camille. She crossed her arms over her middle as she walked up the stairs, only releasing them to open her door. Just before she walked inside, her eyes brightened and she smiled. I knew the feeling. I felt it every time I saw Travis, no matter how much time we’d spent apart.
“Okay. Okay, you’re right,” I said. “I hold grudges, and I need to let this go.”
Travis lifted my hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against my skin. The air conditioner was on full blast, but his hand was still a little sweaty from the few minutes we sat in the car without it. He appreciated my words, but he was a man of action. I’d have to show him.
I sighed and pulled my cell phone from my purse, looking for Camille’s number in my contacts folder. I pressed her name and held the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” she said, sounding surprised.
“Hey, Cami. It’s Abby.”
“I know,” she said, amused.
I tried not to assume she was making fun of me, but that was the first place my thoughts went.
“I, um … we should have drinks or coffee some time. I’m out of school, now. If you have a morning or evening off, let me know.”
“Oh.” She paused. “I’d really, really like that, Abby. I have tomorrow morning off for our follow-up appointments. They’re first thing in the morning, so we should be out by nine-thirty. I can drop off Trenton and can be somewhere by ten. Should we meet for coffee?”
“The Daily Grind?” I asked.
“Good. I mean, yes. That’s great. Can’t wait,” she said, stumbling over her words. “Okay. See you then.”
Before I hung up, I heard her speak to Trenton. “She wants to have coffee!”
“That’s great, baby,” Trenton said.
I pressed End before she realized I could hear her, and then gently dropped my phone into the cup holder. “She’s excited.”
Travis chuckled. “I heard. I think you made her whole year.”
I leaned back, looking up. “I want to get along. I do. But I can’t shake this feeling—like I should keep my guard up with her.”
“Whatever it is, I’m confident you’ll find out tomorrow.”
“But tonight,” I said, looking over at him with a smile, “you owe me dinner at Biasetti’s.”
Chapter Seventeen
Whatever She Wants
Travis
WALKING INTO PLACES WITH MY wife and watching people stare never got old. I swept the door open for her and both of the hostesses’ eyes lit up. They were college girls like Abby, but my wife was perfection, her baby pink-colored dress set off her tan from her days by the pool with America and whatever the hell she did to make her skin glow.
Abby didn’t believe it, but she looked like a super model, and it was as amusing as it was irritating to watch men seated at tables with their own wives or girlfriends notice her, then look at me, and then quickly back at their date. Even the women couldn’t keep from staring.
As the hostess seated us at a four-top, Abby settled into her chair and put her purse on the seat next to her. Her loose curls bounced, the golden ends falling past her shoulders. She called it a midi dress, whatever that was, the ribbed fabric of the cotton-ish fabric stopping at her shin. It looked like a cotton tank top on top with thicker straps, then BAM! Curve-hugging perfection. It reminded me of something a celebrity would wear, and as curious as the other patrons were, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
“What?” she asked, smiling at me from the across the square table.
“I just can’t get over how beautiful you look tonight.”
She scoffed. “You’re just used to me looking homeless.”
I shrugged as I opened the menu. “That’s how you looked the first time you came to my apartment, and I still fell for you.”
She nodded once, unable to stop grinning. “True.”
As soon as the waiter took our drink order, a woman approached the table. She was middle-aged, sophisticated, and dripping in gaudy jewelry. Although she seemed familiar, I couldn’t place her.
“Abby! It’s so nice to see you, darling.” The woman was smiling, but her tone was anything but genuine. Abby seemed to notice, too, and was instantly uncomfortable, although the woman probably didn’t see it.
“Vivienne,” Abby said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Good to see you, too. This is my husband, Travis Maddox. Travis, this is Vivienne Hayes.”
Fanfuckingtastic. Parker’s mom.
I outstretched my hand, forcing myself to be polite and pretend I didn’t want to murder her son. The last thing I wanted was to get kicked out of Biasetti’s.
She forced a smile like I did, but just stared at my hand.
I looked down at it. “I washed it. No peasant residue.”
Her forced smile faded. “I doubt that.” The outer corners of her over-filled lips turned up as she looked at Abby again. “Try to enjoy your night, dear. And your life.”
“Excuse me?” Abby said, only able to utter the words after Vivienne walked away. She closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Pidge, I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Try harder,” she said, opening her eyes and trying to stifle a grin.
Oh, thank God. She isn’t mad.
“Your French 75, and for the gentleman, our famous Old Fashioned. Any apps tonight?” The waiter might’ve been a college student, but I hadn’t seen him before. His baby face was clean shaven, his round blue eyes paying far more attention to me than to Abby. He was happier than before when he took our drink order.
“What do you think about the Carpaccio and the Caprese?” Abby asked.
The waiter looked to me.
“Whatever she wants,” I said.
The waiter leaned in. “Apps are on me, tonight. Mrs. Hayes is in the back, angrier than I’ve ever seen her, and it’s glorious. Thanks for that,” he said, standing upright. “Wonderful choices. I’ll get those right in for you.”
Abby seemed confused. “Did he say what I think he said?”
“He sure the fuck did,” I said, beaming.
She shushed me, giggling at the same time.
I had never felt on the right side of anything, played the bad guy to a fucking T. But, even after being responsible for hundreds of lost lives and punching our small town’s golden boy, people saw me differently when I was with my wife. I somehow found myself being seen as a hero, the way Abby saw me. I gazed across the table into her eyes.
