Beautiful Disaster (45 page)

“I don't know what I'm going to do with you, Trav! I've dumped someone for you—twice—I've picked up and gone to Vegas with you—twice—I've literally gone through hell and back, married you, and
branded myself with your name. I'm running out of ideas to prove to you that I'm yours.”

A small smile graced his lips. “I love it when you say that.”

“That I'm yours?” I asked. I leaned up on the balls of my feet, pressing my lips against his. “I. Am. Yours. Mrs. Travis Maddox. Forever and always.”

His small smile faded as he looked at the boarding gate and then down to me. “I'm gonna fuck it up, Pigeon. You're gonna get sick of my shit.”

I laughed. “I'm sick of your shit now. I still married you.”

“I thought once we got married, that I'd feel a little more reassured about losing you. But I feel like if I get on that plane …”

“Travis? I love you. Let's go home.”

His eyebrows pulled in. “You won't leave me, right? Even when I'm a pain in the ass?”

“I vowed in front of God—and Elvis—that I wouldn't, didn't I?”

His frown lightened a bit. “This is forever, right?”

One corner of my mouth turned up. “Would it make you feel better if we made a wager?”

Other passengers began to walk around us, however slowly, watching and listening to our ridiculous conversation. As before, I was glaringly aware of prying eyes, but this time was different. The only thing I could think about was the peace returning to Travis's eyes.

“What kind of husband would I be if I bet against my own marriage?”

I smiled. “The stupid kind. Didn't you listen to your dad when he told you not to bet against me?”

He raised an eyebrow. “So you're that sure, huh? You'd bet on it?”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and smiled against his lips. “I'd bet my firstborn. That's how sure I am.”

And then the peace returned.

“You can't be that sure,” he said, the anxiousness absent from his voice.

I raised an eyebrow, my mouth pulling up on the same side. “Wanna bet?”

Travis Maddox move aside, Trenton is coming to town!

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Beautiful Disaster
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1
^ST
JULY 2014

CHAPTER ONE

H
IS WORDS HUNG THERE, IN THE DARKNESS BETWEEN OUR
voices. I sometimes found comfort in that space, but in three months,
I'd only found unrest. That space became more like a convenient place to hide. Not for me, for him. My fingers ached, so I allowed them to relax, not realizing how hard I'd been
gripping my cell phone.

My roommate, Raegan, was sitting next to my open suitcase on the bed, her legs crisscrossed. Whatever look was on my face prompted her to take my hand.
T.J.?
she
mouthed.

I nodded.

“Will you please say something?” T.J. asked.

“What do you want me to say? I'm packed. I took vacation time. Hank has already given Jorie my shifts.”

“I feel like a huge asshole. I wish I didn't have to go, but I warned you. When I have an ongoing project, I can be called out at any time. If you need help with rent
or anything . . .”

“I don't want your money,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

“I thought this would be a good weekend. I swear to God I did.”

“I thought I'd be getting on a plane tomorrow morning, and instead you're calling me to say I can't come. Again.”

“I know this seems like a dick move. I swear to you I told them I had important plans. But when things come up, Cami . . . I have to do my job.”

I wiped a tear from my cheek, but I refused to let him hear me cry. I kept the trembling from my voice. “Are you coming home for Thanksgiving, then?”

He sighed. “I want to. But I don't know if I can. It depends on if this is wrapped up. I do miss you. A lot. I don't like this, either.”

“Will your schedule ever get better?” I asked. It took him longer than it should to answer.

“What if I said probably not?”

I lifted my eyebrows. I expected that answer but didn't expect him to be so . . . truthful.

“I'm sorry,” he said. I imagined him cringing. “I just pulled into the airport. I have to go.”

“Yeah, okay. Talk to you later.” I forced my voice to stay level. I didn't want to sound upset. I didn't want him to think I was weak or emotional. He was
strong, and self-reliant, and did what had to be done without complaint. I tried to be that for him. Whining about something out of his control wouldn't help anything.

He sighed again. “I know you don't believe me, but I do love you.”

“I believe you,” I said, and I meant it.

I pressed the red button on the screen and let my phone fall to the bed.

Raegan was already in damage control mode. “He was called into work?”

I nodded.

“Okay, well, maybe you guys will just have to be more spontaneous. Maybe you can just show up, and if he's called out while you're there, you wait on him. When
he gets back, you pick up where you left off.”

“Maybe.”

She squeezed my hand. “Or maybe he's a tool who should stop choosing his job over you?”

I shook my head. “He's worked really hard for this position.”

“You don't even know what position it is.”

“I told you. He's utilizing his degree. He specializes in statistical analysis and data reconfiguration, whatever that means.”

She shot me a dubious look. “Yeah, you also told me to keep it all a secret. Which makes me think he's not being completely honest with you.”

I stood up and dumped out my suitcase, letting all the contents spill onto my comforter. Usually I only made my bed when I was packing, so I could now see the comforter's
light-blue fabric with a few navy-blue octopus tentacles reaching across it. T.J. hated it, but it made me feel like I was being hugged while I slept. My room was made up of strange, random things,
but then, so was I.

Raegan rummaged through the pile of clothes, and held up a black top with the shoulders and front strategically ripped. “We both have the night off. We should go out. Get
drinks served to us for once.”

I grabbed the shirt from her hands and inspected it while I mulled over Raegan's suggestion. “You're right. We should. Are we taking your car, or the
Smurf?”

Raegan shrugged. “I'm almost on empty and we don't get paid until tomorrow.”

“Looks like it's the Smurf, then.”

After a crash session in the bathroom, Raegan and I jumped up into my light-blue, modified CJ Jeep. It wasn't in the best of shape, but at one time someone had had enough
vision and love to mold it into a Jeep/truck hybrid. The spoiled college dropout who owned the Smurf between that owner and me didn't love it as much. The seat cushions were exposed in some
places where the black leather seats were torn, the carpet had cigarette holes and stains, and the hard top needed to be replaced, but that neglect meant that I could pay for it in full, and a
payment-free vehicle was the best kind to own.

I buckled my seat belt, and stabbed the key into the ignition.

“Should I pray?” Raegan asked.

I turned the key, and the Smurf made a sickly whirring noise. The engine sputtered, and then purred, and we both clapped. My parents raised four children on a factory
worker's salary. I never asked them to help me buy a car, instead I got a job at the local ice cream shop when I was fifteen, and saved $557.11. The Smurf wasn't the vehicle I dreamed
about when I was little, but 550 bucks bought me an independence, and that was priceless.

Twenty minutes later, Raegan and I were on the opposite side of town, strutting across the gravel lot of the Red Door, slowly and in unison, as if we were being filmed while
walking to a badass soundtrack.

Kody was standing at the entrance, his huge arms probably the same size as my head. He eyed us as we approached. “IDs.”

“Fuck off!” Raegan snarled. “We work here. You know how old we are.”

He shrugged. “Still have to see IDs.”

I frowned at Raegan, and she rolled her eyes, digging into her back pocket. “If you don't know how old I am at this point, we have issues.”

“C'mon, Raegan. Quit busting my balls and let me see the damn thing.”

“The last time I let you see something you didn't call me for three days.”

He cringed. “You're never going to get over that, are you?”

She tossed her ID at Kody and he slapped it against his chest. He glanced at it, and then handed it back, looking at me expectantly. I handed him my driver's license.

“Thought you were leaving town?” he asked, glancing down before returning the thin plastic card to me.

“Long story,” I said, stuffing my license into my back pocket. My jeans were so tight I was amazed I could fit anything besides my ass back there.

Kody opened the oversize red door, and Raegan smiled sweetly. “Thanks, baby.”

“Love you. Be good.”

“I'm always good,” she said, winking.

“See you when I get off work?”

“Yep.” She pulled me through the door.

“You are the weirdest couple,” I said over the bass. It was buzzing in my chest, and I was fairly certain every beat made my bones shake.

“Yep,” Raegan said again.

The dance floor was already packed with sweaty, drunk college kids. The fall semester was in full swing. Raegan walked over to the bar and stood at the end. Jorie winked at
her.

“Want me to clear you out some seats?” she asked.

Raegan shook her head. “You're just offering because you want my tips from last night!”

Jorie laughed. Her long, platinum blond hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders, with a few black peekaboo strands. She wore a black minidress and combat boots, and was
pushing buttons on the cash register to ring someone up while she talked to us. We had all learned to multitask and move like every tip was a hundred-dollar bill. If you could bartend fast enough,
you stood a chance of working the east bar, and the tips made there could pay a month's worth of bills in a weekend.

That was where I'd been tending bar for a year, placed just three months after I was hired at the Red Door. Raegan worked right beside me, and together we kept that machine
greased like a stripper in a plastic pool full of baby oil. Jorie and the other bartender, Blia, worked the south bar at the entrance. It was basically a kiosk, and they loved it when Raegan or I
were out of town.

“So? What are you drinking?” Jorie asked.

Raegan looked at me, and then back at Jorie. “Whiskey sours.”

I made a face. “Minus the sour, please.”

Once Jorie passed us our drinks, Raegan and I found an empty table and sat, shocked at our luck. Weekends were always packed, and an open table at ten thirty wasn't
common.

I held a brand-new pack of cigarettes in my hand and hit the end of it against my palm to pack them, then tore off the plastic, flipping the top. Even though the Red was so smoky
that just sitting there made me feel like I was smoking an entire pack of cigarettes, it was nice to sit at a table and relax. When I was working, I usually had time for one drag and the rest
burned away, unsmoked.

Raegan watched me light it. “I want one.”

“No, you don't.”

“Yes, I do!”

“You haven't smoked in two months, Raegan. You'll blame me tomorrow for ruining your streak.”

She gestured at the room. “I'm smoking! Right now!”

I narrowed my eyes at her. Raegan was exotically beautiful, with long, chestnut-brown hair, bronze skin, and honey-brown eyes. Her nose was perfectly small, not too round or too
pointy, and her skin made her look like she came fresh off of a Neutrogena commercial. We met in elementary school, and I was instantly drawn to her brutal honesty. Raegan could be incredibly
intimidating, even for Kody, who, at six foot four, was over a foot taller than she was. Her personality was charming to those she loved, and repellent to those she didn't.