Rachel, Out of Office Page 4

  “My money says Gavin will show up at some point because without him, how would any of us know the exact correct way to grill a burger?” Dave paused on the front step, turning back to face Travis.

  “Or drive the boat,” Travis added.

  “Or do the backstroke in the pool.”

  “Or make Saturday morning toaster tarts.”

  Dave chuckled. “Like there aren’t instructions he personally wrote on every single package.”

  Gavin had it in his head that he could do anything better than the rest of them, and he took a lot of pride in showing them exactly how to manage it.

  “Three seconds in the fucking microwave.” Travis grinned a wry smile. “Takes longer to pull them out of the wrapper than to cook them.”

  “Which is why God invented the pop-up toaster,” Dave said, the mood finally light.

  Travis smirked. “Not thinking that was God.”

  “Can’t tell me He didn’t have a hand in it, so we didn’t have to use the microwave for three fucking seconds.”

  Travis’s foot stalled midair as he considered the possibility that he and Dave could roll Gavin in the mud pit that was the east side of the lake, instead of pushing him in the lake.

  Mud would be harder to get out of his pants. It’d take longer than three seconds to pretreat all those stains, and that thought had Travis grinning like a kid.

  Yeah, Travis and Dave could pull that off.

  Travis reached to press the doorbell, careful not to bump Rachel’s wreath or the handmade wooden sign that announced, Welcome! Did you bring margaritas?

  He didn’t get invites to the house unless it was for a birthday party or something for the boys, so he’d never brought her booze. Once, he’d tried to bring Gavin beer when they’d lived at their old house. Turned out, according to his mother, it was inappropriate to bring alcohol to children’s birthday parties.

  The door flew open and Kellan gave a whoop.

  “It’s the uncles,” he shouted, flinging himself at Dave.

  Kellan’s twin, Brady, took in the scene, a grin on his face but the slightest bit of concern etched around his eyes. The kid seemed seriously older than his years.

  “It’s the nephews,” Dave replied, ruffling the kid’s hair even as Kellan released him and bolted past, checked the street, and ran back inside.

  “It’s not here yet,” Kellan yelled, still on a flat run through the entryway back up the stairs. “Uncle Dave and Travis are, though.” He yelled the last part loud enough that Travis assumed he was alerting his mom to their presence.

  “Hey, Uncle Trav.” Brady grabbed Travis’s hand, hanging on tight. “What do you think it is?”

  “What what is?” Travis kneeled so he was eye to eye with his nephew. He didn’t have a favorite, but if he did, it’d probably be Brady. He couldn’t say exactly why, but he and Brady? They just understood each other.

  “The birthday present from Dad.” Brady didn’t let go of Travis’s hand. “He couldn’t bring it today. He had to go to Boston again.”

  “I’m sure whatever is in Boston is important,” Travis said, instead of what he wanted to say. Which was that Gavin should show the fuck up for once.

  “He’s having it delivered. Do you know what it is?” Brady’s hand was getting sweaty in Travis’s, but he didn’t make a move to take it away.

  “No idea, kid.” Travis shrugged. “Hope it’s good, though.”

  Knowing Gavin, the odds of it being spendy were 100 percent, but the odds of it being good? Well, those were more fifty-fifty.

  “Hey.” Rachel emerged from the office she kept near the dining room. Her office was mostly a desk she’d set up in the alcove under the staircase so she could hear upstairs and downstairs at the same time. “I got a two-for-one deal on the uncles this time.”

  Rachel pulled the elastic from her hair and the long, blond waves fell around her shoulders.

  Travis loved her hair. The way she pushed it behind her ear, flicked it over her shoulder.

  And why the hell was he thinking about her hair? He shook his head.

  It’s not like he didn’t like her. He did.

  Except her uncertainty about him.

  He didn’t care for that part.

  She smiled a genuine grin at Dave before turning a quizzical stare to Travis. That quizzical stare made him swallow harder and turn on what he hoped was charming sizzle. The smile, the extended eye contact—it worked on most women.

  Not on Rachel.

  She rolled her eyes at him. Legit, she rolled her eyes like he was an eight-year-old friend of the boys—and not one she particularly liked.

  “We need to talk to you about this summer,” Travis said, using the smooth tone that sounded like a good takeoff felt in a small aircraft.

  “It’s important,” Dave confirmed.

  “If it’s about your family’s summer pep rally, the answer is—”

  “Don’t say no right away this time,” Dave said before she could continue.

  “Evelyn sent you.” She observed Dave and crossed her arms under her breasts. The movement lifted them a little and— Eyes are up there, buddy.

  Rachel didn’t catch his wandering gaze because she was all eyes on Dave.

  “Of course she sent us,” Dave replied, the answer not nearly as smooth as what Travis would’ve delivered. “She knew you’d say no to her, so she sent us.”

  “She sent you?” Arms still crossed. Not a good sign.

  “Yes, she asked us to formally request that you join us on the family summer sabbatical.” Dave sounded so much like their mother when he gave the formal request, Travis nearly broke a stitch in his side trying to keep from laughing.

  “That’s why you’re here, too?” Rachel turned her attention to Travis, using that look of hers that could make him spill any secrets he’d ever thought of keeping. She’d perfected it with the boys but wielded it like a sword. The slight tilt of her head, eyes turned to slits, and the raised eyebrows that made his collar itch.

  The principal at his elementary school used to have a similar expression when he’d gotten hauled in there on playground candy-trafficking charges.

  She cleared her throat.

  Right. What was the question again? He nodded because he probably would’ve nodded to anything that she said right then.

  “No.” She smiled at Travis this time. Not just Dave. That was nice. Even if the word coming from her lips was no. “Thank you for the invite. But, no. That’s Gavin’s family time.”

  “But we like you better,” Travis said, clearly still under the spell of the Rachel attention, since the vortex of Gavin’s mention hadn’t sucked the happiness from the room.

  “You should tell him that. He’ll be back for the party on Saturday.” Rachel grinned at Travis, but this wasn’t a cheery grin like Dave usually got. This was calculated. Purposeful. It was…Travis stepped back because, man, it felt like an invitation.

  Rachel never gave him any looks that were inviting.

  Maybe he was coming down with something, because nothing felt right.

  Thus another step back.

  “Travis?” Rachel asked, the question drawing his gaze to hers. “You okay?”

  “Fine. I’m fine,” he replied. The sweat he felt forming in his hands had everything to do with Brady’s persistent grip, and nothing to do with Brady’s mother.

  If he took another step back, he’d bump right into the Shut the Front Door sign.

  She arched an eyebrow and pressed her lips into a line. She didn’t believe he was fine. Rachel was intuitive like that. He’d say it was a mom thing, but, really, it was a Rachel thing.

  When Gavin and Rachel had first gotten together and Rachel was pregnant with the boys, Travis wasn’t around much. Gavin spent way too much time back then arguing about Travis’s choice of work ho
urs, the women he dated, the cars he bought.

  And whatever Gavin had said to Rachel about Travis, it had stuck, since she also wanted the bare minimum to do with him. And, yeah, it’d taken a little longer for him to figure himself out than other adults, but his choices hadn’t hurt anyone. Well…anyone but him. He’d broken the shit out of his ankle in a Tijuana dune buggy.

  In the meantime, Rachel hadn’t just erected a wall between herself and Travis, she’d dug a trench the size of the Grand Canyon around all sides.

  The distance worked, because Rachel put the “string” in high strung.

  “Uncle Trav?” Brady asked, startling him and stunting his self-imposed escape.

  The kid pulled on their linked hands, so Travis turned his gaze from Rachel to his nephew as his back hit the sign.

  “Why are we going backward?” Brady asked, lifting an eyebrow in what, on any other day, would’ve been a comical parody of his mother’s expression.

  Travis licked his lips. What was he supposed to say? I’m running away from your mother.

  “Your mom scares me,” he whispered, like that was so much better.

  “Me too,” Brady whispered back, all serious eight-year-old.

  Now that? That was fuckin’ funny.

  “That’s enough, Brady.” She said the words with her certified mom tone, but the look she gave her kid had the soft love that wrapped around a person and didn’t let go.

  Rachel dropped her arms from under her breasts. Travis did not look at them.

  “Rach, Travis and I would like to discuss this further,” Dave said, totally breaking up the moment like he was a bouncer in a rowdy night club.

  Rachel shook her head. “That’s unnecessary.”

  “It’s about Gavin,” Dave said, for once getting to the point and not taking the back roads.

  “Can I talk too?” Brady asked.

  Travis looked to where Brady held his hand. He couldn’t be sure anymore if he was clinging to Brady’s hand or if Brady was clinging to his.

  Travis shook his head. “Not until you can grow your own mustache.”

  Dave laid his hands against Rachel’s shoulders, turning her toward him. He could do that. She let him. Because he was the good brother. The one who went to the office during the day, every day, and probably fixed her sink.

  She liked Gavin well enough, but it was clear the two had never been in love. Whatever they’d had, she never looked at him with that soft love she gave her kids.

  Sometimes, if the lighting was just right, she seemed to look at Dave that way. Probably because she adored Dave. Adored him.

  Travis hadn’t asked, but he was pretty certain Dave got invitations to dinner with the boys and Rachel that didn’t include the rest of the family. He probably even brought over margaritas because the sign on the door suggested it.

  “That’s unnecessary. They asked me the grown-up things, and I said no,” Rachel volleyed back.

  “We have some more Gavin things we need to discuss,” Dave said.

  Now that got Rachel’s attention.

  “Head upstairs, Brady.” Rachel gestured up the stairs and winked as though both uncles showing up at the same time was standard operating procedure for their family. “Grown-up talk is about to start.”

  Brady looked at the adults, searching for something. The kid might’ve been a kid, but he was one of the most perceptive people Travis knew.

  “Now,” Rachel said to him when he didn’t move, her tone kind and firm and undeniably in charge.

  “See, she’s scary,” Brady said out of the side of his mouth before he ran up the stairs.

  “As I mentioned before, we’re issuing your formal invitation.” Dave mimicked their mother’s voice, tone, and inflection, as he delivered the message.

  “We covered this. I am, regretfully, declining your invitation,” Rachel replied, her impression of their mom not nearly as good as Dave’s. Then again, she hadn’t had decades of practice with it.

  “Gavin isn’t coming this year.” Travis peeled off that bandage. Yanked it clear free. “Did he tell you?”

  Judging by the shocked expression crossing her face—the way her eyes got bigger, her mouth dropped open, and her eyebrows fell together, Gavin hadn’t told her. Because of course he hadn’t.

  Before Travis could count to three, Rachel slapped on that expression she used to appear totally impassive before dishing out punishment for her boys. He’d seen her brandish this weapon and, frankly, thought it was sexy as hell.

  Except this time she directed the look straight at Travis, hitting him directly in the solar plexus.

  “That can’t be right.” She glanced at Dave for confirmation.

  Dave, whose jaw was ticking with apparent irritation.

  He nodded. “It’s true. He should’ve mentioned it to you, so we could invite you up, and you might say yes.”

  Travis shook his head to knock out whatever jar of moths had taken up residence in his brain and made himself speak.

  “Trav?” Dave asked, yanking Travis back to the present. “Thought we agreed I’d do the talking.”

  They had. That was before. This was now.

  “You were taking too long.” Travis took three steps forward. Yeah, Travis had gone off script. Somebody needed to get things moving.

  “Why don’t you go check in with the twins?” Dave asked, tilting his head toward the stairwell. Offering an out that Travis hated he wanted to take.

  Travis followed his gaze to the staircase.

  “Or go fix some grub in the kitchen,” Dave continued.

  This tactic was their mother’s. When she wanted to send someone away, Mom sent them to bake or do a chore. Food fixed anything, in his mother’s estimation.

  Especially sugar.

  “The boys can’t go without a parent.” Rachel leaned against the stairwell bannister. “I’m not okay with that.”

  “Yeah. We figured that’s what you’d say.” Dave held his hands up, palms facing her. “That’s why we’re here to convince you to come.”

  In truth, they always invited Rachel on the annual family trip. They invited her to the family everything. His mother was on a mission to see Rachel and Gavin happily married again with more grandbabies. She didn’t care that Gavin had moved on with Dakota and that Rachel seemed happy with her life.

  “You know, Rach—” Travis shoved his hands in his pockets. “We can take the boys with us.”

  “Without Gavin or me?” She looked at him like he’d suggested they dance naked in the driveway. “No.”

  “Rach.”

  “Drop it, Travis,” Dave said quietly.

  “The boys will just have to miss this year.” Rachel’s head was already shaking, subtle like. “I’ll call Gavin…”

  “Heads up that if you say no, Mom will probably visit soon.” Travis knew she may not have enjoyed him visiting, but she’d absolutely hate a visit from his mother. “She wanted to come with us and make it a whole thing.”

  “There’s no way I can take two months off to come play at the lake.”

  “Is there anything we can do to lighten your load?” Problem-solving Dave was in the house, ready to take on the weight of Rachel’s world.

  “Work doesn’t take a holiday,” she said.

  “Still, Trav and I can help you out.” Dave was practically giddy with his willingness to sniff out a solution. It’s what he did because it’s what he was good at. Gavin told everyone what to do. Dave figured out solutions. And Travis? Well, he had the gift of ensuring everyone had a good time.

  “I can’t even manage today.” Rachel threw her hands up as though their surroundings were proof of that.

  The house looked like the boys had fought a war in the living room and the other side won.

  “I’m still getting through today. I’m not thinking ab
out the summer yet,” she continued.

  “What can we do to help?” Dave asked. “Today. To make things easier for you. We can talk about summer later. Let’s deal with today first.”

  Travis might as well hop up on the bannister and watch Denver’s king of solutions at work.

  “Well, first I need someone to count up the calendar sales for the PTA and submit the order.” Rachel started a countdown on her fingertips. “Then I have a new client who needs updates done for his website, but we’re still trying to track down the login information from his former assistant. I have four ad accounts to check. Two bookkeeping files to update. And about two dozen phone calls to respond to.” She kept her voice neutral, as though reciting a grocery list. “Somewhere during that I’ll be figuring out how to explain the lake vacation situation to my boys without causing too many questions about why their dad won’t spend time with them. Oh, and I’ll need to get everything set up, managed, and torn down for the party.” She lifted her chin in that take-no-shit way of hers, but her lower lip trembled a touch and fuck it, he knew, she was barely holding it all together.

  She needed a massage or something.

  Dave had clearly been thinking more like: take the boys to Chuck E. Cheese for dinner. That’s what Travis would’ve offered up, anyway.

  “Rach.” Travis did a slow walk toward her. He shoved his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t reach out and do something ridiculous like try to comfort her. “Has Gavin helped with any of the stuff for the boys? The PTA, the party?”

  She got the lip wobble under control as she said, “He offered to hire a party planner.”

  Dave whistled a low sound that somehow came out like the word “fuck.” Which was apt. Even Travis knew what a blow that offer must’ve been to Rachel. She wanted help, yes, but she didn’t want it done for her.

  Gavin helping was one thing. Gavin hiring someone else to help? That was a big ol’ middle finger to the way Rachel liked things done.

  “Dave and I can help with the party. Mom and Dad, too. We mean it, whatever you need,” Travis said as Dave looked like he was still percolating on the summer solutions. “Same thing for the summer. I get it, you want the boys to be with their parents. You come along with us. Whatever you need. We’ve got your back.”