Home > Give Me Strength (Give Me #2)(43)

Give Me Strength (Give Me #2)(43)
Author: Kate McCarthy

Seth stood up and folded me awkwardly in his free arm. The kindness had me slumping into his shoulder.

A loud curse came from the doorway, and I pulled away as Travis strode forward and got in Seth’s face.

“What did you say to her?”

I pulled away, suddenly exhausted. “I have a family.”

Travis frowned at me, sitting a coffee on my tray table and taking hold of my hand. “Of course you do. Us.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Quinn,” Seth cut in, and with a nod to Travis, he left my room.

I scooted over in my bed a little to allow room for Travis. He sat down, handed me the coffee, and I told him everything Seth told me.

***

Chapter Twenty-Four

“You know,” I said, and paused, looking up at Travis from beneath my lashes where we lay in my bed. Morning sunlight streamed through the window, making me squint a little as I rolled to my side and propped my head in my hand. “I think you should hire me at Jamieson and Valentine Consulting. I’d make a really good employee.”

“Yeah?” Travis scratched lazily at his neck and yawned as I trailed my fingers up the ridges along his nak*d chest. He appeared to give it serious thought. “Well you could fetch me coffee I suppose, pick up my dry cleaning, do all my paperwork. I could even bend you over my desk whenever I wanted.” His lips twitched. “When can you start?”

My eyes flashed in annoyance, but I quietly smothered it. Instead, I changed direction, trailing my fingers downwards, and this time when I looked up at him from beneath my lashes, I bit down on my lip. He sucked in a breath and I hid my smirk. “Well I was kinda thinking that—”

“That what? You helped dismantle an entire drug and human trafficking cartel and now that you’re on a roll and have a taste for adrenaline, you want more?”

“Well life with you and the badass brigade is never going to be dull, is it? Maybe Mac was right and I need to learn how to shoot.”

“Newsflash, sweetheart. You’re the ones that are causing the mayhem and leaving a trail of destruction behind you.”

A loud bang on the door interrupted our chat.

“Quinn!” Mac yelled through the door. “Are you ready to go yet?”

The door flew open before I could reply, and I whipped the sheet up to cover my nak*d chest.

“Seen it before,” she sing-songed as she sailed into my wardrobe.

“Jesus Christ, Mac, haven’t you heard of f**king privacy,” Travis growled.

“Sorry!” she yelled, her voice muffled as rummaging and banging noises came from deep within. “Ah ha!” She stalked out, waving a bag around. “I knew you had my lemon tote.” Pausing at the end of the bed, she said, “What the hell are you doing anyway? Hang on…let me rephrase that. Mum is downstairs. Did you forget we were going shopping today?”

“No,” I lied.

I did forget. When I was with Travis, he made me forget my name, forget to breathe, and forget I had seen people die. He made me forget everything. But Travis couldn’t be there all the time. When he wasn’t, my friends rallied, but it was high time the cotton wool that had cocooned me for two weeks was unwrapped so I could move on with the rest of my life.

That was supposed to start today, with shopping, because my stitches were out, my crutches were gone, and Mac had told me the feel good endorphins from spending lots of money was the first step on my road to recovery. I was told it would be epic. Evie and Tim were coming, Lucy was meeting us there, and Evie had Jared book us a late champagne and seafood lunch at Mr. Chow’s. Unfortunately, it couldn’t drag late into the night because tonight was my first night back at work—Jamieson would be playing at the White Demon.

“You’re lying,” Mac announced.

“No I’m not,” I lied, shifting when Travis sat up a little and reached for his phone from my bedside table.

“Yes you are,” she returned. “You have a tell.”

Travis chuckled as he unlocked his phone and began scrolling through his emails.

“What?”

He shook his head in reply.

“I don’t have a tell,” I told Mac, folding my arms over the sheet.

She raised a brow.

“You do,” Travis said as he flicked through his phone. “Everyone does.”

I looked at Mac as Travis tapped out an email reply. “What’s Mac’s tell?”

“She widens her eyes a little,” he replied, putting his phone back and joining me in looking at Mac, only he was frowning. “You can leave now.”

Mac flared her nostrils. “Whatever. Downstairs, Quinn. We’re leaving soon.”

She closed the door behind her, and I turned back to Travis. “Now as I was saying—”

Travis interrupted me by pulling down the sheet, rolling over, and grabbing my hips.

“Travis, I’m trying to talk.”

“So talk.” He leaned down and began licking and biting my neck, running his hands up my torso until he held my br**sts in his hands, his thumbs rubbing across my n**ples.

“Travis,” I moaned and arched my back into the touch.

“You like me touching you?” he whispered into my ear.

I grabbed his nak*d h*ps and yanked him down, feeling the length of him harden against the soft skin of my belly.

“Yes,” I breathed.

He slid a hand down between my thighs and chuckled in my ear as I squirmed against the feel of his roughened fingers.

“You’re not talking.”

A tear leaked out my eye and Travis froze.

“Did I hurt you, sweetheart?”

Another tear leaked out and he drew back.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered thickly.

He rolled over, dragging me with him, until I was sitting above him and the tear rolled down and dripped onto his chest. I reached out to wipe it away, and he grabbed my wrist. “Don’t. Do you need to talk? I know your first counselling session with Jude isn’t for another few days, but I’m here now.”

“Travis!” Another bang came at the door, this time from Henry. “Casey and Evie just got in from a surf. He says you two had something to do today?”

“Be right there!”

Travis slammed his head back into the pillows. “Christ. We need to get our own place.” He gave me a speculative look. “Move into the loft with me?”

“Oh God,” I whispered, and as another tear threatened, I blinked it back with considerable effort. “I can’t.”

Disappointment shadowed across Travis’s face before he schooled his features. “It’s too soon. I’m sorry.”

“No,” I protested. “It’s not about time. I want to be with you. I miss you when you’re not there.” My face flushed wildly at the admission. I was not used to putting myself out there as much as I had been lately. Travis reached out and took my hands, giving them a squeeze.

“I…it’s Rufus. He can’t live in a loft.”

“He’s a big dog,” Travis agreed. “Needs space.”

Reaching up he pulled me down against his chest, one hand holding me close, the other skimming down my back. He pressed a kiss against my head where it was tucked under his chin. “Maybe we can get somewhere together.”

I thought quietly for a moment, feeling my lashes brush softly against his skin as I blinked. “What about Casey?”

“We’ll work something out.” Travis exhaled softly. “Now tell me why the tears?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

I knew Travis wouldn’t let it go. “I love that about you,” I whispered.

“Love what?” he asked gruffly.

The vibration of his voice against my chest had me sighing in pleasure. “That you don’t let me close myself off from you. Most of the time I don’t even realise I’m doing it, but you never let me.”

Travis rubbed his hand in circles on the small of my back, warming me. “You know what I love about you?”

“What?” I whispered.

“Your biscuits.”

I sat up a little so he could see my glare. A chuckle rose from deep in his chest as he grabbed my ass in both hands. “I love this too.”

“Travis!”

He rolled us both over until we were side by side and brushed a thumb gently across my cheek, silent for a moment as his eyes drank me in. “Quinn,” he said softly. “I also love knowing I have you to look forward to at the end of the day, and I love knowing that when I open my eyes in the morning the first thing I’ll see is you.”

“I remember the first morning I woke up and all I saw was you.”

“Yeah?”

“I was horrified. Not at first, because you were lying on your stomach, one arm curled under the pillow and the ahh…sheet wasn’t quite covering you. You were the most beautiful man I ever saw, and I panicked because I was quite the opposite—”

Travis frowned. “Quinn—”

“Let me finish. So I ran, but obviously not far enough because there you were again, and I cursed my luck. How was it fair that someone I wanted so much was never meant to be mine? Everything that was ever beautiful in my life was always taken from me, and it was scary to think you’d be the same. But you never stopped fighting for me, and you forced me to see that maybe I really was worth fighting for. You took away all the ugly on the inside, Travis, and you made me beautiful.”

There was a slight quaver in my voice because saying that wasn’t easy, but the way he was looking at me made my heart want to burst.

“Christ, sweetheart.” Travis crushed his mouth down on mine, kissing me wildly, his hands fisting in the back of my hair as his lips moved over mine until he broke away, breathing heavily. “Have I told you how much I f**king love you?”

Later that night in the dressing room of the White Demon, Jamieson on a set break, Mac was fiddling with my hair. Turns out today was not only an epic shopping day, but a semi-makeover day too. My hair was freshly cut. Not only that, it was done by Evie’s hairdresser who, according to her, was shit hot. Looking at Evie’s glossy mane I could only agree. The past few months my hair had grown, but I really liked the shorter style. Now it was choppy and styled in messy waves and sat just above my shoulders.

Lucy, here with Rick for the show, met my eyes in the mirror. “Does it look okay?”

Her eyes softened as she reached out and ruffled my hair. “You look perfect.”

“It’s shorter than Trav’s hair now.” Mac turned from playing with my hair to smirk at Travis where he stood leaning against the wall talking with Jared and Henry. “When are you cutting your hair? People might start mistaking you for a girl.”

I turned from my seat to look at Travis, and just like every time, my mouth went dry. His wide chest and muscled arms were on display in his fitted Jamieson shirt, golden stubble covered his jaw, and his hair barely fit into the tie that was holding it off his face. He was utterly beautiful.

“Travis isn’t cutting his hair,” I announced.

He raised his brows at me. “I’m not?”

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