She could sense his hands tightening on the steering wheel. "I don't want to be friends," he said, his voice low and menacing. It couldn't fool her, though. It had taken her all of an hour to realize that Travis was a sweetheart on the inside. He just didn't look the part. Especially now, his flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, the muscles in his forearms flexing. He had a short, shaggy beard flecked with gray. Arden smiled up at him. He looked like a mountain man. And not a friendly one.
"You've got gray in your beard," she said, laughing and reaching up to touch his face.
He jerked his head away like a little kid and shot her a glare. "I do not."
"Look in the mirror."
She watched as he reluctantly pulled down the visor and flipped up the mirror. Then he cursed, snapped the mirror closed and pushed the visor back up.
"Don't be grumpy. Gray hairs are sexy. They make you look older and more distinguished."
She finally got a grin out of him. She loved to make him smile. "Sexy, huh?" he said. But slowly his expression soured again. "A lot of good that'll do me."
She sighed, feeling her patience wan. "You're being unreasonable."
"I'm unreasonable because I have feelings?"
"You're unreasonable because you let your feelings dictate your actions. Me...I'm reasonable. I take into consideration my feelings but I don't let them control me."
Travis grunted.
"Just look at this situation with Duane," Arden went on. "You love him, so you do everything for him even though any one with eyes can see that he's a lost cause."
"You don't get to talk about my brother," Travis said. "That's none of your business. And you don't know him anyway. He's a good kid."
"No," Arden said. "You were a good kid. Duane is not."
Travis pounded a fist on the steering wheel. "Keep talking and you can walk home."
Arden shut up. She knew her limits. She also knew Travis and his reaction was extremely predictable, so much so that she wasn't even startled at his response. There was no other subject in the world that brought out his ire more than Duane. Arden ached to help him see, to reason with him that he would be so much better off if he could just let Duane go. But Travis was stubborn. And loyal. And too full of love for his own good. Not bad flaws to have, all-in-all.
They were in town now, only two minutes from home. The Christmas decorations were hanging from the lampposts, but they did little to cheer up the gloomy, soggy atmosphere that morning. Travis made a left turn down the street that led through the woods and up the hill to the wealthiest subdivision in Splitlog. He made another left turn up the driveway to the fanciest house in the county. He threw the truck into park, got out and came around to open Arden's door.
"Your highness," he said, bowing sarcastically.
Arden glared at him and slapped him on the arm. She started to walk on up to her door, but Travis caught her by the wrist. She turned and looked up at him, slightly offended at being grabbed so harshly. He seemed to notice. He swallowed and let go of her arm.
"Um," he started and then cleared his throat. "I guess we could have lunch tomorrow."
Arden felt warmth in her cold, icy heart. "As friends?" she asked, beaming up at him.
He shrugged. "If that's all you're offering, I guess I'll take it."
She threw her arms around his neck and he lifted her off her feet in a big bear hug. She felt his strong hands splayed across her back and the pounding of his heart against her chest. His hug made her think of wine and firelight and soft music. She nuzzled her face into his neck and he squeezed her a little tighter.
And then suddenly she remembered that it wouldn't be that way. Not at all. Not with him. She pushed away and kicked her feet. Her right foot connected with his shin and he dropped her to the ground. She backed away, glaring up at him. "It wouldn't be wine and a fireplace and cello music. It would be beer and bonfires and loud, twangy Hank Williams Jr. I don't want that, Travis, and you're not going to make me feel like a bitch for wanting something better for myself!"
Travis gawked. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I don't want you! I want Nick. And that's that and you're not going to trick me into changing my mind." She turned on her heel and pounded pavement up to her door.
"So I guess lunch is off!" he shouted after her.
She answered by storming inside and slamming the door behind her. She looked around and was grateful her parents were nowhere in the immediate vicinity. She ran upstairs to her bathroom, stripped and climbed into a hot shower. With the water running down her face, she could pretend there weren't any tears.