Melt For Him(22)
He stroked her hair. “I know. It sounds like it. I’m really glad you’re not with him. You deserve a good guy. A stable, steady guy who’d never hurt you and who’d never do that shit.”
She wiped away her last remaining tear. “What about you? Anyone in your life?”
“Hell no,” Travis said. “You know me. I’m married to my two jobs.”
“I know. And I still worry about you every day. The thought of you going into that burning building and something happening to you is horrifying.”
He flashed her his cocky grin. “I’m a gambler. I take my chances.” Then he turned serious. “But you know me. It’s in my blood. Just like Dad.”
“And that’s what scares me. The same thing happening to you.”
“I do everything I can to keep on living. Everything.”
“I wish you were just a professional card player.” Megan wasn’t fond of her brother’s volunteer career whatsoever. She’d tried to talk him out of it many times over the years, but he was determined. She’d had to live with the fear, and some days it threatened to eat her alive.
“I’ve got some new executive card games I’m working. And I’ve been teaching a few VCs down in San Fran how to play better. How to bluff and whatnot.”
“See? Why can’t you just do that full time? You’re good at it.”
“Because I’m a fireman. It’s part of who I am. It’s all I ever knew. All I ever wanted to do. Dad died trying to save a family. I sure as hell don’t want to die, but my goal is to honor him by helping people, too.”
“I hate the thought of something happening to you,” she said, flinching painfully at the prospect of losing him. She didn’t want to linger in this conversation, though. Travis knew how she felt. “Tell me something pleasant. Tell me something nice you remember about Dad.”
“Something nice about Dad,” Travis said, and his eyes drifted off to the far wall of the restaurant lined with framed illustrations of cows, chickens, and eggs. “He used to read to you when you were little. Every single night. He came home, tucked you in, and made sure he read to you. You always wanted stories of animals. That was your favorite thing in the whole world, and he read them all to you.”
Megan wished she could remember it. Wished she knew more of her father than her own inked interpretation and childhood fantasy that he’d watched over her. But she didn’t, and she never would.
As far as she was concerned, that was yet another reminder of why it was a damn good thing she and Becker had agreed to keep their hands off each other. Because the more she got to know him, the more she liked him. And the more she liked him, the more likely she’d be hurt. A man like that, driven by danger, could ruin a woman’s heart.
Even so, there was a part of her that longed to know him, to see past all the things that Travis warned her about. To understand that dark and haunted look she’d seen in Becker’s eyes. Maybe even to help him through. She’d never been able to help Jason because he hadn’t wanted it.
But she simply had to ignore that noise in her head.
More than that, she needed to turn the volume all the way down on that little voice—that naughty, devilish voice—that was asking for a repeat of that first night. Just the memory of how Becker had touched her brought a flush to her cheeks and a hot shiver across her skin.
Like a glass of lemonade on a hot day, another night with him might quench her thirst. A night of letting go, giving in, feeling everything. But that was crazy to contemplate. Besides, Becker probably wasn’t even thinking about her, and as long as they both kept their encounter in its proper place—a cordoned-off, sealed-up box on the far back shelf of a closet—then there would be no problem getting through a little thing like a photo shoot.
No problem whatsoever.
Chapter Nine
When Megan stopped by the Panting Dog the next night to hang out with Jamie, Becker muttered a gruff hello, not even meeting her eyes. It was barely an acknowledgment, and it irked Megan. Rationally, she knew this was for the best. Logically, she understood the need for the distance between them, especially given her conversation with Travis.
Still, it bugged her, so she did her best to divert her attention. She chatted with Jamie, catching up with her good friend and focusing hard on heeding her brother’s warning.
“Tell me everything I missed in the last year or so. Well, besides you and Smith,” Megan added with a wink.
Jamie brought Megan up to date with various Hidden Oaks locals, from the woman who ran the olive oil shop who’d self-published a naughty romance novel that sold well and had made many husbands happy when their wives read it, to her sister Diane’s burgeoning relationship with a kind and caring dentist a few towns over.