The Billionaire of Bluebonnet(6)

Travis Jesson sat on the floor, his back against one of the kitchen cabinets. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the floor next to his hand. A large photo album was cradled in his lap.

Strangest of all, Gregory was lying beside Travis, his head on Travis’s knee, watching him.

As she stood in the shadows, Travis took another swig of whiskey and turned the page in the photo album. “This is me when I was a boy,” he said, pointing at a picture on the page and staring at the pig snout resting on his knee. “I had a dog. Not a pig. What the fuck am I supposed to do with a pig?”

The pig said nothing, of course, only inched closer to his hand, looking to be petted.

There was a slight slur to Travis’s words, and judging from the amount left in the bottle—a bottle that Pearl had saved for special occasions—she knew he’d been here for some time. And he’d drank quite a bit.

“Risa says I’m supposed to keep you.” He leaned his head back against the cabinets, staring at the ceiling. “Grandma wanted me to have you. I’m not sure she realized how busy I am. I’m due in Tokyo for two weeks at the end of this month. Pretty sure Japanese hotels don’t like pigs.” He thumped the back of his head against the cabinet. “So either way I look at this, I disappoint someone again. If I keep you, I disappoint my business partners because I can’t go to Tokyo with a pig. If I get rid of you, I disappoint my dead grandmother. And Risa.”

He shook his head and took another swig from the bottle.

Well, now, this was interesting. Real interesting. Who knew that a little whiskey and a conversation with a pig would show that Travis Jesson had a heart after all? A smile curved her mouth.

“I should have been here, pig,” he said softly. “Should have been here to say good-bye.”

Sadness made Risa’s smile fade. There was a wealth of guilt in his voice. He blamed himself for not coming to see Pearl toward the end. Not coming to her funeral. The sad thing was—no one blamed him but himself. Pearl had thought the sun rose and set on Travis. She’d never blamed him for being busy.

Risa leaned against the door frame, admiring the odd picture of billionaire and pig. Travis’s hair was rumpled as if he’d been sleeping. His chest was bare, and he wore boxers. Nothing more. His chest was broad and sculpted, a light brushing of dark hair on his pectorals. He was tanned, too. Tanned and gorgeous and entirely too delicious for someone as plump and frumpy as her.

She sighed. It didn’t mean he wasn’t the object of every dirty fantasy she’d had during the last few years. It just meant that that’s all they were—fantasies.

At her sigh, Gregory’s head went up and he looked to the doorway. His little skinny tail thumped and twirled rapidly.

Damn it.

Travis’s eyes narrowed and he set down the bottle just as he was about to take another swig. “Who’s there?”

Risa crossed her arms over her chest protectively, wishing she’d decided on the damn bra, and stepped out of the shadows. “Just me. I heard someone talking.”

Her face heated as his gaze skimmed over her figure—the baggy sleep pants, the thin T-shirt. She probably looked like an utter wreck. Then again, she thought to herself, so did he. She forced herself to be casual, to move to his side and sit down on the floor next to him, pulling her legs up against her chest. “Can’t sleep?”#p#分页标题#e#

His mouth curled into a hard smile. “Oh, I can sleep. This pig, however, thought he should sleep with me and that woke me up.”

Risa bit her lip to stop the smile from curving her mouth. “He always slept with Pearl. I imagine that he was lonely and figured you’d do.”

Travis snorted and took another swig from the bottle. After a moment’s contemplation, he offered it to her.

She took it and tried to imitate his swig. It burned, though, and she began to cough, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. “God, that stuff is awful.”

“Nah,” he said slowly. “It’s my favorite. Grandma always kept a bottle at the house because she knew I liked a whiskey after dinner.” He stared at the bottle, and his mouth twisted into an ugly expression. “There was dust on the bottle. She must have been holding it for a long time.”

She said nothing. What could she say? But he seemed so lost and alone that she reached out and clasped his hand, aching for his sorrow. “I miss her, too. She was a great lady. And she was ninety-eight, Travis. She had a long, full life and she didn’t mind that you were busy.”

“You said she was lonely,” he said harshly, gesturing at the pig. The pet immediately pushed his snout against Travis’s hand, snuffling and begging to be petted. His hand clenched for a moment, and then he laid it atop the pig’s head, scratching the ears.