Vivian Arend - Rocky Mountain Heat

His elbow bumped hers, and she glanced over, wondering what was going on. Then a complaint rose from behind them, and she grew even more curious. Blake squeezed her fingers, then guided her hand toward his lap.

She resisted. Oh my God, no. She’d been longing to touch him, but not in the dark of the theater with his entire family seated around them. That would be like some nightmare of a sexual experience.

He tugged harder and unless she wanted to make a huge fuss, she had no chance of winning an arm wrestle with him. She faced forward resolutely in the hope nothing would show up on the screen that would brighten the room enough to allow people around them to see her touching…popcorn?

His grin shone white against the darkness for a second before he turned and seemed to ignore her. But his fingers reached over hers and pulled some of the corn from under her grasp. Then he leaned back, and as she watched, a fast glint of something flew through the air.

“Fuck.” Jesse gasped a second later. “Sorry, Ma. I meant, damn, something hit me.”

His whispered complaint was all she needed to understand the rest of the story. Blake’s shoulder was all warm at her side, his fingers held hers tight, except when they both took turns surreptitiously tossing popcorn over their shoulders, attempting to hit Jesse and Joel most often.

It was silly and childish, and one of the most right moments Jaxi had ever experienced in her life. No rules, no expectations. Just fun, and being literally surrounded by family.

She rested her head on Blake’s shoulder and contentedly munched on another licorice stick.

Jaxi pushed through the laundry room door and jerked to a stop. Travis straightened up from the washbasin and turned to face her, his expression tight.

Oh my God. She hadn’t just seen what she thought, had she? “What the heck—?”

“Don’t. Just…don’t go there.” He grabbed a bloody shirt from the ground and tried to duck past her, but even with the basket in her hands she was fast enough to get in his path and block his rapid retreat from the small room. “It’s nothing. I didn’t think anyone was around, okay?”

She shoved the basket of clothes onto the top of the dryer and reached for him, batting away his hands as he tried to stop her. “No one was. I came in early to get a few things cleaned up while the house was still empty. Where the heck you been? Your dad was livid this morning when you didn’t show up for chores.”

As she spoke she turned him, tugging on his belt until his strong back was in clear view. A shudder shook her as she took in the damage. “Oh, Travis.”

His shoulders sagged, all his bluster escaping like air from a balloon. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course you don’t. When did you ever want to talk about these things?” She pushed him to the side and snatched up a clean rag, soaking it under warm water. “Fine. I won’t ask questions, but I am fixing you up. Get over here.”

The misery in his eyes was hidden as he bent forward to rest his elbows on the washer, giving her easy access to the multiple rows of welts crossing his back. The skin was swollen, broken in spots. Dried blood clung to him, fresh red oozing from where the barely set scabs broke away from the cuts.

Jaxi bit her lip to stop from blurting out all she wanted to say. Instead, she worked steadily, as gentle as possible as she pressed the cloth again and again to his flesh, softening and cleaning away the blood. A shiver raced over his skin, a low grunt of pain as she touched a particularly bad section where the cuts lay in crisscross fashion over each other.

She couldn’t take it anymore. “Belt?”

He hissed as she used the cream from the first aid kit on the topmost line, careful to make sure she coated the welts thoroughly. “Thought you weren’t gonna ask questions?”

“Yeah, well, I thought you weren’t such an idiot to let someone mark you and then leave you in bad shape. There’s supposed to be two sides to—”

“This is definitely talking you’re doing. I know what it’s supposed to be like, okay. It just doesn’t always work the way we want it to.”

Jaxi left her hand on his back, the warmth of her palm pressed cautiously against his skin in the hopes her touch would blunt the words. “You seem to have that happen a lot, Travis. Not work out the way you want.”

He tensed, straightening up and twisting to face her. A pulse beat in the vein in his temple. “Sometimes it’s been good. But yeah…my luck’s been shitty at times. Someday that will change.”

She stared at him for a moment. Whatever sexual attraction they’d had between them had been fleeting—on her part mostly because of his likeness to Blake. She still didn’t know if he’d really cared about her or if having her around had been the ultimate cover-up to help keep his secret indulgences hidden.

Travis’s dark eyes held hers for a moment before he dropped his gaze. “Thanks for your help.”

She nodded. Moving was the only way to deal with her frustration. She pulled a clean T-shirt for him from the dryer, placing it on the metal surface. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Jaxi swallowed hard as he reached out a hand and cupped her cheek. He rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone, a light, delicate touch. It was less seductive than needy, as if he was attempting to draw strength from their connection.

He shook his head, but she felt it. Felt his plea as clearly as if he’d spoken.

“Oh, Travis.” She pulled him against her and carefully hugged him. Just let the warmth of her body comfort him. She wasn’t looking to provide anything more than compassion, but if nothing else he needed a human touch right now.

They stood, locked together. Travis’s torso remained tense, but he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. She stroked a hand over his head, giving him the only thing she could—caring the only way possible. As if she were comforting a grieving child. Her heart hurt for his sake.

He drew a big breath and squeezed her one final time before opening his arms and stepping back. His eyes glistened with moisture, and she wiped at her own for a moment.

“You going to be okay?”

His response was somewhere between a laugh and a cry. “I always land on my feet in the end. Don’t worry about me.”

Jaxi caught his hand in his. “That’s not possible. You can’t just turn off worry.”

His confusion was clear. “I thought you didn’t want me? I thought you and Blake were together now?”

Jesus. “Don’t be a stupid ass, Travis. I don’t want you as a partner, but I do care about you as a friend. And Blake is—”

“Right here, wondering what the hell is wrong with you.”

Jaxi spun toward the door. Blake leaned against the frame, his arms crossed in front of him. Travis cursed, soft and low, and quickly dragged the clean T-shirt over his head, keeping his back hidden from Blake’s view. Jaxi winced on his behalf as the fabric hit his skin.

“Nothing happened. Jaxi was just helping me…clean a cut.”

Blake scowled. “And if I was asking about Jaxi and you, right here and now, that would be a suitable response. But I trust Jaxi too much to even have a moment’s thought that she’d be doing something wrong. I meant what the fuck is wrong with you in general? You didn’t show this morning for chores, and the few things you are responsible for around the ranch you keep messing up. Damn it, Travis, it’s time you grew up and took things more seriously. You’re not a baby who should have to be told everything that has to be done.”

He stepped into the room. Travis twisted away, the two of them traveling in opposition like predators circling each other. Travis stopped an arm’s length from the door. Jaxi moved into Blake’s path, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his side.

“I don’t have to report to you where and what I’m doing.” Travis’s chin lifted, his words and attitude a million miles away from the broken boy she’d been comforting a few minutes ago.

“While Dad’s out of full commission, yes, you damn well do report to me. We work together as a team, and you’re not putting in the energy. Face that reality and whip your ass into shape. It’s not only the family you’re letting down, it’s yourself.”

Jaxi debated speaking up, but what could she add? Travis had screwed up. Whatever personal issues he was struggling with didn’t mean he could mess with the rest of them.

Travis rolled his eyes. “Oh, yes, sir. I promise to get right on that. The growing-up shit. You have no bloody idea—”

“You’re right. Maybe I don’t.” Blake’s volume dropped to almost a whisper. He slowed and held a hand toward Travis. “I have no idea because for a lot of years you’ve been one of the ‘little boys’ back at the house with Ma and Dad, and I just didn’t take the time to find out more. I have no idea what is going on in your life. I’m sorry for that. But I can’t be expected to know more than you tell me. Until you let me in, until you and I find some common ground other than our blood and the fact we both work this patch of land, I’m not going to understand you.”

Jaxi’s throat tightened.

Travis was frozen in place by the door, his face rigid. “So that makes it all fine? That you don’t know?”

Blake shook his head. “It makes it wrong on my side. And I’m serious about wanting to get to know you better, at whatever speed you’re comfortable with. But I’m also serious about you taking responsibility for your actions around the ranch. You don’t have to let me into your life this instant, you don’t have to share all your secrets, but don’t let us down on the job. If you need help, then ask.”