She shook her head, scoffing, then ran her fingers through her hair. They snagged and pulled strands loose from her knot.
“You just walk in here all cavalier, letting me think you were—You know, never mind—” She turned away, then whipped back around, slicing the air. “No, not never mind. Wasn’t I worthy of a phone call or something?” She popped her hip, palming her chest, registering his eyes dipping down to her hips as she did so. “Travis, am I imagining things? We were attached at the hip, right? Weren’t we? Or is my version of reality different than yours? I don’t get it.”
His fingers squeezed her shoulder, so slightly others might not have noticed, and yet every nerve in her system was on high alert, synapses firing like NASCAR pistons. He could blink and she might feel it reverberate through the air—
“Did you love him?” he added more softly, his face, so firm and yet desperate to know, as if it was important to him. “Did he love you?”
Her whole face contorted. What was he talking about? Wait, did he think Brandon’s dad was her… He’d just called her Brandon’s momma. Did he think Brandon was her son?
“He wasn’t my husband,” she whispered. “I didn’t know him.” She reached up to touch his hand, anxious to wring answers from him—
His fingers slipped quickly away the moment hers grazed his knuckles. Rejection? Her cheeks began to burn.
“What did I do to you to push you away?” she begged, shook her head and blinked hard, then shoved past him—
“You could never have done anything wrong.” He caught her arm. “I let you go, for you,” he said, as if that answered everything.
She froze. Gaped wide-eyed at his audacity. Plucked her arm free.
“I don’t even know what that means, but I don’t want what you’re selling. Just do your job, and we can all move on.”
She moved to Brandon’s bedside, felt Travis still watching her, and glanced sidelong to take in his stance, his hands wedged under the opposite arms, which only made those sexy biceps that were no longer hers to touch bulge more, then he nodded, as if accepting what she’d said.
“Roger that. Want me to contact anyone for you?” he asked, lips tight, as if she’d rejected him.
Nope, she didn’t need a hero swooping down to help her. She needed space. Didn’t need Trav’s two a.m. house calls, pints of Cherry Garcia, and plastic spoons wedged in the back pocket of those ranch-worn Levi’s to assuage her daddy’s heavy hand. Didn’t need him to drag her through her window and roar Red Lightning’s engine as he hightailed it away from her daddy’s trailer like a cowboy knight on a pickup steed with those dimples that made her heart stop and her panties drop, their lips a frenzy of kisses, their hands beneath each other shirts or in their pants or flung around each other like the crazy-in-love teens she’d thought they’d been.
She glanced at his ring finger. Empty.
“A husband, perhaps?” he added. Husband? “Or boyfriend?”
Was he fishing for intel on her? Why should it be any of his damn business if she did have a husband? She scoffed but mastered her incredulity and shook her head, not looking at Travis as a well of frustration surged within her.
“Nope. Just me. I can manage just fine, though. I’ve been managing just fine for years.”
“You got a way to get home?” he persisted, ignoring her raised hackles. He had always followed whatever course he’d set, big or small, until he got the answers or results he wanted, and right now the course he was setting was badgering her in clipped tones until he was satisfied. “The hospital can arrange a shuttle service.”
“I said I’m fine. We’re fine.”
“Isn’t Jasper coming?” Brandon asked.
She patted his arm again. “Yeah, Bran. Jasper texted a little bit ago. He’s on his way.” She spoke over her shoulder now, her body still abuzz at Travis’s presence. “See? We’ve got a ride all lined up. No need for you to worry.”
Travis nodded, his face tightening farther at her refusal of help, or had it tightened at the mention of Jasper?
“Okay, Sk—Dr. Rivers,” he continued. “I’ll put Brandon in for a follow-up in a week. Best case scenario, he can take off the sling and see a physical therapist. You wanna see me or someone else?”
Was this a trick question? Did she want to see him? Yes! No.
She glanced up at him again. No. Decidedly, she didn’t want to see him and wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to see him again. Dammit! Her eyes were misting. She couldn’t help it. This was all too much. He could take his tingling sensations and sparkling smile and go.
She fixed the brightest smile she could muster on her face. “Someone else is fine.”
His brows pulled together, as if she’d confounded him, as if he’d expected her to choose him but hadn’t. That would be just his MO, to expect her to choose him. Not this time. He waited a moment, as if giving her a chance to change her mind, or maybe hoping she would?
She dug her heels in. He conceded.
“I’ll put you on the books for next Friday. Sound good?” Travis continued.