Travis gripped the steering wheel as he guided the truck toward home. Beside him, Shay huddled close to her door. A thick curtain of tension had fallen between them like fog on a cool autumn morning.
Less than an hour ago she’d been soft and malleable in his arms. He’d dared to hope, just for the space of one song, that things might change. That Shay might realize how much he loved her and give him another chance.
But as soon as the song ended, something shifted. She pushed him away, her guard as high as ever.
His fingers ached now, and he loosened his grip on the wheel. She regretted letting Olivia spend the night with Maddy. He knew she would as soon as she gave in, but she’d never admit it. Certainly not to him.
He drew in a deep breath and released it quietly. Help me remember she’s been hurt. That she’s only trying to protect herself. Hadn’t he just been thinking earlier this evening how vulnerable she was? Of course she’d try to protect herself. It was human nature.
But having her in his arms for just those few minutes had been bliss. She smelled of sunshine and citrus. She seemed so willing to give herself to him. And then—boom! She was gone, just like that. If only he could recapture what they’d had on the dance floor.
Or at least dispel this awkward silence. He flipped on the radio, and a slow country tune wafted from the speakers. Even with the music, tension thickened the air in the cab, swelling the molecules until it was hard to breathe. How long could this go on?
He’d been waiting to tell her what he’d done. This wasn’t quite the moment he’d hoped for, but maybe it would soothe her worries, make her drop her guard a hair. He turned into the drive. Pebbles popped under the tires, loud in the quiet confines of the cab.
When he pulled up to the house, he shut off the engine and she moved to get out.
“Wait.” He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I have something for you.”
He felt her eyes on him while he gathered his thoughts. It was too dark to read her eyes.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He pulled out a paper, unfolded it, and handed it to her.
“What’s this?”
He turned on the dome light. “Read it.”
Her eyes squinted as she read, her brows going low. Her lips tightened.
What was she thinking? Surely she’d be relieved to have the monkey off her back awhile.
“You paid up my mortgage.”
Her tone was flat, not what he expected. Maybe she was overwhelmed.
“For six months. Through March. Thought it might help you breathe a little easier.”
She aimed a smile in his direction, not quite meeting his eyes. “Thank you. That was very generous.”
Her smile seemed forced. She reached for the handle.
“Wait.”
Shay stopped, her hand still on the lever.
“Why are you sore at me?”
She cleared her throat. “I’m not. How could I be—it was very thoughtful. I’m obliged.”
She was out the door before he could move. Couldn’t get away from him fast enough. He tried not to feel hurt.
He followed, catching up with her on the porch steps. “Can we talk?”
She sighed. “About what?”
“Shay . . .”
“I’m tired.”
So was he. Tired of trying to read her mind and being wrong. Tired of trying to figure out what was going on behind those green eyes.
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Don’t want anything from you.”
Maybe that was the problem. She’d seemed to want something from him during that dance. But now . . .
“You’re like a faucet, Shay. Running hot one minute, cold the next.”
She glared at him. “I am not frigid.”
He frowned, watching her open the door, her jaw set.
“Never said you were.” Shoot, frigid was the last word that came to mind when he thought of Shay. She was full of passion and life. “Is that what your ex-husband said?”
“None of your business.” She entered the house and flipped on a lamp.
“Shay, I’m trying to understand.”
She turned in the kitchen doorway, heaving a deep sigh. “Just leave me alone, Travis.”
He dragged in a breath and blew it out silently. Patience. He needed patience.
He crossed the living room, emptied his pockets. A handful of coins, his wallet and cell, a ponytail holder Olivia had handed him halfway through the night.
He heard the cupboard door fall shut, the faucet running in the kitchen. He heard the abruptness of her movements. Was she cross because he’d paid her mortgage? Maybe so, but she’d been distant before that.
Had she felt forced into the dance by the crowd of neighbors? Her body had seemed willing enough, but maybe he was wrong. Or was it his clumsy comment on the porch?
He didn’t know, but he knew he didn’t want the evening to end on this note. He reached the passage between rooms just as she did.
She stopped short, and the water in her glass sloshed over the rim and onto her shirt.
“Sorry.”
She tried to step around him, but he blocked her way. “Shay, wait.”
She shot him a look.
He was getting that look a lot these days, and he felt his patience draining. “What? What did I do?”
“Move.”
He could be stubborn too. “Not till you tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“You could freeze water with those looks.”
She shoved him with her palm. “Stop saying that.”
“Is that what’s bothering you? I didn’t mean it like that. Blast it, Shay, you’re the furthest thing from frigid there ever was. If your ex called you that, he was an idiot.”
“He never called me that—now move.”
Travis sighed hard. “Then what’s the problem?”
“There is no problem, Travis. Not a single one. Everything is just hunky-dory!”
“You’re yelling.”
“Well, you’re blocking my way.”
He moved aside, rubbing his jaw. “Fine, go on.”
“Fine.”
She took her half-empty glass and passed. He ran his hand over his jaw. That woman was gonna be the death of him. He watched her enter her room and give the door a shove. It hit the frame with a slam.
“You can’t hide forever, Shay,” he called.
If she had the last word, he didn’t hear what it was.