A Mummy for Christmas Page 3

  For starters, Travis tasted so good, in a way that was unique to him. His lips were soft and tender, the sweep of his tongue evocative and warm, as he brought her back to life, reminding her of all that had been missing for years now in her celibate existence.

  And, unbeknownst to her, she evoked the same feeling in Travis.

  When he had walked into the conference room, he hadn’t meant to do anything but give Holly the emotional support she needed, friend to friend. He knew she was upset, and deservedly so. He hadn’t expected to find her crying as if her heart would break, hadn’t imagined how simultaneously devastated and protective he would feel as he came to her rescue. He hadn’t counted on how right it felt when he instinctively pulled her into his arms to comfort her. Or considered how the aching vulnerability in her eyes as she reached out to him would change everything he felt, too.

  The boundaries they had painstakingly put in place from the moment she’d moved in next door had instantly dissolved.

  The blinders were off. He saw her as the vital, passionate, loving woman she was, and the feel of her soft, slender body in his arms sent a charge roaring through him unlike anything he had ever felt. Her tremulous sigh, the sweetness of her scent, the surrender of her soft lips all combined to further fan the fire. With just one kiss—long, sweet and sultry—his whole world turned upside down. Yet never had anything—or anyone—ever felt so right.

  Which was why he had to stop it now, before any further boundaries were crossed, and they compromised their current relationship. Shaken to the core, he lifted his head and forced himself to let Holly go. Trembling, she stepped back, too, regret in her eyes. Without another word, she picked up her garment bag and purse. Head down, eyes averted, she rushed for the door.

  And Travis knew he had moved way too fast, and in doing so, might just have put everything he held near and dear in jeopardy.

  “ARE WE GOING TO TALK about this?” a familiar male voice asked five hours later.

  A tingle went down Holly’s spine. She kept right on painting the last little bit of detail of the piazza mural on the wall of the Italian restaurant. “I don’t see why we should.”

  Travis strolled nearer, looking incredibly masterful in his work clothes and yellow hard hat. “Because if we don’t, that kiss will always be the elephant in the room. And I for one don’t like living in a zoo,” he drawled.

  His lame attempt at a joke eased the tension between them somewhat, as he had to have known it would. Holly sighed and put down her paintbrush. She flashed him a sassy smile she couldn’t really begin to feel, considering the mess they were in. “You really want to know what I think?” she asked softly.

  Looking as if he had all the time in the world, Travis perched on one of the sawhorses. “I really do,” he replied, an emotion she could not clearly define in his dark brown eyes.

  “Okay.” She wiped her hands on the rag tucked into the belt of her jeans, feeling her cheeks flush at the distinctly male satisfaction in his smile. “My defenses were down because I was clearly out of my mind this morning with worry.”

  He paused, clearly caught off guard by her revelation.

  Holly pushed on, determined to be honest. “I don’t blame you for kissing me—given the way I was acting. Like I wanted you to ride to the rescue.”

  Another loaded silence fell between them.

  Holly paused to lick her suddenly dry lips. She didn’t know how he could look so cool, calm and collected, when she felt so frazzled.

  She stepped closer so they were toe to toe, then forced herself to go on with the speech she had been mentally preparing all afternoon. “I can see why you would have thought…”

  She watched as he rubbed a hand across his closely shaved jaw.

  “Hell, for a moment, I thought…may be…” She pushed away the memory of that mind-numbing kiss. Ignoring his slow, sexy smile, she swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat and continued sternly, “But you know as well as I do that it would be wrong for us to go down that path. Especially this time of year.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What do the holidays have to do with this?”

  Holly pivoted and moved back to the sawhorse opposite him. “You know how a lot of people get all excited and go out and buy puppies at Christmas to give as gifts?”

  He nodded, skeptically.

  “They think they want a puppy and are prepared for one—and at first it really is great having one around. But before you know it, the puppy gets a little older and…”

  “Poops on the floor?” He wryly guessed at where she was going with this.

  Holly rolled her eyes, aware he had just broken her train of thought, which was perhaps his purpose. “All silliness aside, you know what I mean,” she persisted, determined to make her point. “What seems like a great idea when you’re all caught up in the spirit of the holidays often loses its luster after December 25.”

  “I would buy that theory.” He gave her a long, steady look. “Except for one thing.”

  Determined to hold her ground, she folded her arms in front of her. “And what’s that?”

  Triumph radiated in his smile. “You weren’t enthralled with the Christmas spirit at the time we kissed.”

  We kissed. A thrill went through her at just the memory…She lifted her chin and put a practical spin on their disturbing lapse in judgment. “My being worried that my ex is going to ruin the holidays with his machinations is more or less the same thing. Whatever Cliff is trying to do put me in a highly emotional state! I turned to you without thinking about the impact this could have on our lives.”

  He lifted a discerning brow. “And now that you are thinking about consequences?” he challenged.

  She let her glance drop to his broad shoulders and sinewy arms. “I don’t want to lose our friendship or complicate our lives unnecessarily, because you know as well as I do that sex changes everything.”

  “So you want me to forget kissing you again.”

  Was that disappointment in his low tone? And in her heart? Could she afford to fall victim to these feelings? Especially when she knew romance was based on the illusion of perfection, and that the illusion could never last, when confronted with the wear and tear of everyday living and familiarity.

  Once again, Holly let her common sense take over. “Yes, I do,” she reiterated. “For both our sakes.”

  Travis was quiet a long time. His expression remained maddeningly inscrutable. Finally, he stood and said. “The last thing I want is to upset you or give you any more trouble than you have at this moment. So whatever you want, whatever you need—” he paused and looked into her eyes “—let me know. And I will be there for you. No questions asked. No holds barred.”

  Chapter Three

  Once a week, the principal players in One Trinity River Place met for lunch. The meeting always started with business matters that needed to be handled, and ended with more personal conversation among the five longtime friends.

  “I see why you’re concerned,” Grady McCabe told Travis over lunch the next day.

  “We all are,” Dan Kingsland agreed, cutting into a steak.

  “None of us want to see Holly hurt,” Jack Gaines said, with typical overprotectiveness where women were concerned.

  “And it certainly sounds like that’s what her ex has up his sleeve,” Nate Hutchinson agreed.

  Travis forked up some salmon. He trusted the guys to be objective, in a way he couldn’t be in this particular situation. “So none of you think I’m overreacting here?” Letting my emotions get in the way of sound judgment and common sense?

  “It’s not that Holly needs protecting, per se,” Grady—the first of the four single dads in the group to marry again—murmured.

  Dan, who had also recently found the love of his life, nodded in agreement. “Ninety-nine percent of the time Holly can handle herself just fine.”

  “It’s the one percent we worry about,” Jack said.

  “And I have to wonder,” Nate continued, wit
h the cynicism of the only bachelor in the group, “what has happened to make Cliff Baxter suddenly change his mind about seeing the kids.”

  Grady frowned. “What exactly do you know about the dude?” Grady asked, getting down to brass tacks.

  “Not a lot.” Travis looked around the cozy woodpaneled dining room, which was decorated in exclusivemen’s-club style. “Holly never wanted to talk about him.”

  “And now?” Jack prodded.

  He thought back to the way Holly had cried yesterday—as if her heart would break. How she had nestled against him as he’d held her. And the way she had kissed him back…as if nothing mattered at that moment, except the passion they’d found with one another.

  Grady tilted his head. “Has something changed between the two of you?”

  Travis worked to keep a poker face. It wasn’t easy. Part of him wanted to shout to the world how mindblowing that steamy embrace had been. The more private part of him knew this was no one’s business but his and Holly’s. His desire to protect her in every way intensified. “What do you mean?” he asked casually.

  The guys exchanged looks. Eventually, Nate said, “We always figured…you and Holly are so close…”

  “Hell, you’re practically living together,” Grady stated.

  Jack added somewhat awkwardly, “We just assumed sooner or later the two of you would start dating or something.”

  After that spectacular kiss, Travis had hoped that would be the case. Until Holly set him straight about her own expectations. “I don’t think that’s in the cards,” he said carefully.

  “If you say so.” Dan looked unconvinced.

  “Holly and I are friends,” Travis said firmly. And he didn’t want anything interfering with that—even their one ill-timed, incredibly sensual kiss. Reluctantly, he forced himself to put the memory of their passionate moment aside and concentrate on the problem at hand. “I want to help her be prepared for whatever is coming with her ex-husband.”

  “Then you’re going to have to do your homework,” Nate said. “And find out everything you can about Cliff Baxter and what might be motivating him.”

  TRAVIS CANCELED AN AFTERNOON meeting and set up one with the private investigator who handled all the background checks and preemployment screening for his workers.

  When she arrived, he ushered Laura Tillman into his on-site trailer. The statuesque redhead was one of the best in the business. If there was something to be found, he had confidence she would get it.

  Laura listened quietly and took notes on everything he told her.

  “How soon do you want the information?” she asked in a brisk, businesslike tone.

  Travis rocked back in his chair, beginning to relax a bit, now that he was taking a more proactive approach to the situation. “As soon as possible. Definitely before he comes to Fort Worth to see the kids.”

  “Does Holly know you’re doing this?”

  Guilt filtered through Travis. “No. And I’d prefer she didn’t find out.”

  Laura fell silent, considering all the angles. “This could backfire on you, you know,” she warned.

  Travis turned his attention to the Christmas pictures Sophie and Mia had colored for him at preschool. Next to those were a couple from Tucker and Tristan. “I know.”

  “But?”

  “I want her to be prepared. And this isn’t the kind of thing she would do on her own.”

  “Whereas you have no scruples,” Laura teased.

  He had guilt, all right. Plenty of it. It wasn’t like him to go behind Holly’s back. He wished he didn’t have to do it now. “In this case, the end justifies the means,” he stated.

  Laura put her notebook into her carryall briefcase. She paused to study him. “You really care about Holly, don’t you?” she mused.

  Warmth filtered through him at the acknowledgment. “Of course.” He forced himself to be practical. “We’re friends.”

  Laura lifted a skeptical brow.

  “Just friends,” Travis repeated, as much to himself as to the P.I.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Laura grinned, still not buying his denial. She stood, all business once again. “I’ll call you as soon as I figure out what’s going on.”

  “Thanks.” Travis circled around his desk.

  He and Laura were nearly to the exit when the door opened, and Holly walked in. “Oh!”

  Travis thought he saw a fleeting glimpse of jealousy in her eyes. Aware that he had jumped to conclusions about the depth of her interest in him the day before, and been wrong, he pushed the tantalizing notion away.

  She smiled and tucked a strand of long, golden-brown hair behind her ear. “I didn’t know you were busy.” Her tone was casual.

  Trying not to notice how great she looked in her loose blue chambray painting shirt, snug-fitting white T-shirt and jeans, Travis welcomed her in with a matter-of-fact smile. “It’s okay. We’re finished.” Thank God.

  “Hey, Holly,” Laura said, smiling as well.

  To Travis’s relief, the private investigator looked as innocent as the day was long as she headed for the exit.

  “Hey, Laura,” Holly said, just as nonchalantly.

  The two women exchanged easy glances and then Laura slipped out, closing the door behind her.

  Travis drank in the alluring, feminine fragrance of Holly’s perfume as she neared. Putting a damper on his reaction, he forced himself to focus on the reason for her unexpected appearance. He searched her aquamarine eyes. “Everything okay?”

  She nodded, but he could tell from the excessive ease in her manner that she was putting on an act for his benefit.

  Her next smile was even more maddeningly aloof. “I just wanted to see if we were still on for Christmas tree shopping tomorrow,” she said.

  Travis pushed aside his remorse, at having gone behind Holly’s back to protect her and the kids. He focused on the weekend, and the fun they usually had together,

  instead, reminded of what a good team they made. “Absolutely. The girls and I are looking forward to it.”

  Holly continued looking at him, her expression becoming inscrutable. “Okay,” she said finally, backing out with a shrug. “I’ll see you then.”

  THE WORST HAD HAPPENED, Holly thought to herself as she drove home that evening after work. Travis had kissed her—and she had kissed him back—and now he was acting weird around her, when all she wanted to do was move forward as if nothing had happened.

  Fortunately, she had the evening to pull herself together.

  She did two loads of laundry, changed the sheets on her bed. Then spent the night alternately worrying about what Cliff was really up to and obsessing over the kiss that should never have happened.

  She awakened early, dreaming about Travis’s soft, sure lips, her pillow clasped tightly in her arms.

  Telling herself to get a grip, she rose and headed for the shower.

  She had just walked into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the boys when the phone rang. Caller ID said it was the man who’d never been far from her thoughts. Smiling despite her worries, she picked up the receiver.

  “Help,” Travis said, his husky baritone a balm to her ravaged nerves. He whispered into the phone. “I’ve got a blueberry muffin emergency.”

  He sounded so distressed, Holly couldn’t help but chuckle. “A what?”

  “Just come over here.”

  Finally, it seemed, they were back to normal. “I’ll get the boys and be right there,” Holly promised.

  Tucker and Tristan were delighted to be going next door, so it was no problem to get their jackets on and hustle right on over. They slipped through the back gate of Travis’s picturesque cottage-style home.

  Like hers and most of the others in the neighborhood, it was approximately three thousand square feet, and was filled with overstuffed sofas and chairs upholstered in kidfriendly fabrics, plus sturdy wood furniture. The rear of the house had sunlight streaming in the many windows, lighting up the large open area that was kitchen, breakfast
room and family room combined. Next to the carpeted play area, where Mia and Sophie were busy with a big box of building blocks, an armoire held a flat-screen television. Instead of a coffee table, there was a long, rectangular ottoman that opened up for storage. The large fireplace took up most of one wall, and matched the collage of charcoal and light gray stone on the outside of the house.

  Tucker and Tristan said a distracted hi to Travis as they struggled out of their jackets, then made a beeline for the girls.

  “So what’s going on?” Holly asked.

  Travis looked great in a soft evergreen pullover and jeans. Wool socks and handsome suede moccasins covered his feet. He waved her to the kitchen, nicely outfitted with white cabinets, speckled black granite countertops and pale gray walls. He turned on the oven light and opened the door slightly so she could peer in.

  “Are you cooking biscuits or muffins?” Holly murmured, noting the specks of blueberries poking through the pale, rubbery looking dough.

  “Muffins!” Travis said in frustration. “The girls wanted them, and we didn’t have any boxed mix. But we had blueberries, so I got out the cookbook and decided to make ‘em from scratch.”

  Holly checked out the recipe, which looked fine. She looked at the ingredients spread out on the counter, spotting a familiar yellow box, but no can. “Did you use baking soda or baking powder?” she asked.

  Travis hesitated.

  Realizing how rarely he looked uncertain about anything, she smiled.

  “There’s a difference?” he asked.

  Oh, yeah. Holly moved closer and kept her voice low as she instructed, “Show me what you used.”

  He handed her the baking soda.

  She peered into his cupboards, which were as familiar as her own, and pulled out a small red can. “This is baking powder. This is the leavening agent you put in cakes and muffins to make them rise.”