Give Me Strength (9 page)

“Burning dinner?” came the teasing voice.

Flustered, I turned, finding Travis filling the
tiny space in my kitchen.

I waved a hand at the stove as I threw the cloth
in the sink. “I forgot I had pasta boiling on the stove.”

He folded his arms, hand still gripping the
envelope, and leaned casually against the frame of the archway.

I could forget everything with him standing
there eyeing me just like I was the lolly Lucy proclaimed me to be.
He was making me want things I knew I couldn’t have. I was too
damaged for someone like Travis—broken, missing pieces that would
never be found, and put back together in a way that never quite fit
properly.

The thought left an empty ache in my chest.

“You can leave the envelope on the counter,” I
told him. “Thanks for dropping it by.”

A bang came from the front doorway, announcing
the return of Justin and Rufus from their walk. Rufus charged into
the tiny townhouse, yanking at the leash Justin held a firm grip
on, anxious to get back to his favourite groove in my old, faded
yellow couch. Seeing Travis, Rufus changed direction, making a
beeline to sniff out the intruder.

Justin yanked him back on the leash. “Sorry,
bud,” he said to Travis.

“Hey, Quinn,” Justin said, leaning in and
kissing my cheek. He unclipped the leash and Rufus, seemingly happy
with the presence of Travis inside his domain, leaped onto the
couch, circled, and settled in.

I introduced Justin to Travis and the two shook
hands.

“Beer?” he asked.

Travis shook his head, frowning. “Thanks, but I
have to get going.”

Justin shrugged and opened the fridge door,
grabbing a beer and popping the top. “What’s for dinner?”

“Parmesan chicken and pasta,” I answered,
picking up my own drink so I had something to do with my hands.

“Yum,” he replied and jumped on the couch next
to Rufus, grabbing the remote and flicking the television on.

Before I could usher Travis towards the door,
Lucy’s husband Rick was filling the kitchen doorway, and my tiny
kitchen just got that much more crowded.

“Rick?” The only reason Rick would be here at
this very moment was because Lucy sent him over to see what was
going on. My eyes narrowed on his face and through clenched teeth,
I asked, “Everything okay?” I turned to Travis. “Would you excuse
us for a minute?”

I gripped Rick’s bicep in my hand, ushering him
out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

“Sorry, Quinn,” he whispered and shrugged his
big shoulders helplessly. “Lucy told me I had to come over and
borrow a cup of sugar.”

My eyebrows raised in disbelief. “A whole cup?
Is she baking?”

“Um, I hope not,” he replied, his response
making it obvious that this was the best Lucy could come up with at
short notice.

“Tell Lucy that I’ll speak to her later,” I
said, hoping the irritation in my voice conveyed the knowledge that
speaking to her wouldn’t entail good things.

“Wait,” he interrupted, “I better get that cup
of sugar. You know, just in case she really meant it.”

“Fine,” I said, huffing impatiently.

Rick followed behind as I stalked back into the
kitchen, past Travis, and into the tiny pantry. I picked up an
unopened bag of sugar and walked out with it clutched in my
arms.

“This is Travis. Travis, this is my neighbour
Rick,” I said in the way of introductions. I could have added that
Travis just happened to be the older brother of my boss, but that
would only encourage scheming on Lucy’s behalf to see me settled—as
though all you needed was a relationship to be happy.

Travis unfolded his arms to shake Rick’s hand
politely. Then his gaze flicked to Justin before resting on mine.
His eyes were hard and cool, and it wasn’t until the distance in
them was clear that I realised how hot his eyes had burned before.
“Can we talk for a minute, Quinn?”

His phone rang before I could reply and
muttering an apology, he took the call, talking quietly, yet I
still heard him say he’d been held up and would be there in a
minute.

He hung up and Rick narrowed his eyes, obviously
hearing the tail end of the conversation as well. Because Lucy had
no idea why Travis was here, Rick must have assumed he was here for
personal reasons because he asked, “You’re not staying for
dinner?”

Travis paused in the act of sliding his phone in
his back pocket.

I felt his eyes on me, and my stomach hardened
against the hurt I shouldn’t be feeling. A one night stand was
supposed to be about never seeing the other person again. The
distance in his eyes should have been expected. Frankly, I should
been welcoming it, encouraging it even.

“I have to be somewhere,” he told us.

I smiled, not letting it reach my eyes. “Well,
we won’t keep you any longer. Thanks for dropping off the
paperwork.”

My dismissal was obvious and Rick frowned at me,
not understanding my cool behaviour.

Travis placed the envelope down on the counter.
“I guess I’ll see you later,” he murmured and with a nod at both
Rick and Justin, who offered a brief salute from the couch, he
left.

My eyes watched his retreating back, remembering
the eagle wings that splayed the width of his wide, tanned
shoulders. My mind had pondered the meaning of that tattoo all
afternoon. The eagle was a creature of purity, beauty, and a
powerful force. When I looked at Travis, I couldn’t think of
anything more fitting. When the door clicked shut behind him, it
felt like I’d just lost something that had never been mine.

Justin rubbed his hand through his overly long
black hair, leaving it mussed. “Who’s Travis?”

“What? You don’t know?” Rick smirked at Justin,
smug because for once he was in the loop and knew the gossip.

Shaking myself out of the unwanted feelings
Travis had evoked, I cut Rick off. “Rick! Do you want the damn
sugar or not?”

I jammed the bag of sugar at his big chest and
he grabbed it before it dropped to the floor.

“No?” Justin said in response to Rick.

“He’s the guy that Quinn hooked up with last
night.”

I rubbed my forehead, sore from today’s anxiety.
“Thanks, Rick,” I muttered under my breath. Thanks very much for
making it known that I took a paddle through the skank pool last
night. I checked my watch. Surely we must be hitting the next
episode of
24
by now—
The
hour between seven pm and
eight pm
—because it felt like a lifetime ago that Lucy had
dragged me out to that bloody bar.

***

I whimpered unhappily
when my alarm went off at six the next morning, desperate for
another ten minutes before madness descended. My arm reached out
and smacked the snooze button before returning to wrap around my
pillow.

My front door opened and then slammed shut,
madness finding her way into my room in her workout gear. A bright,
cheery smile adorned her face that my tired body wanted to stomp
all over.

I hadn’t slept well but nightmares weren’t
designed to be pleasant; they spun fear dizzily through a painful
slideshow of memories. Last night was different though. The usual
shadowy images had been replaced by skin the colour of liquid gold
and the slide of rough, hot hands on my skin. Apparently visions of
Travis could also ensure a sleepless night for me. Not only that, I
was usually able to savour my own space, but I’d woken to a bed
that felt too big for my small frame and entirely too empty.

I grabbed my pillow in one hand, my blankets in
the other, and prepared to burrow deeply into the thick, warm
covers, but Lucy snatched the pillow from my grasp.

“No,” I moaned unhappily, making a desperate
grab for it.

“Come on, Quinn. It’s exercise time!” Her wide
eyes, and her words for that matter, were manic.

My slitted eyes raked her over. “I hate
you.”

“And I love your face.” She held the pillow
aloft. “Get up.”

“I can’t. My feet fell off last night, and I
can’t find them.”

“Har har.” She tossed the pillow on the
floor.

“And I start my job today, and I’m not
organised. You don’t want me to be late do you?”

My snooze button shrieked wildly and Lucy
stalked over to my bedside table and clicked it off. “Rubbish. I’m
not blind. I can see your dress hanging on the door.”

“Damn.”

I forgot I left it there. It was my best office
style dress. After the way I’d barely pulled myself together
yesterday, today was my chance to make a better impression.

“That’s your best dress,” Lucy told me as if I
didn’t know already. “I thought you said you’d get to wear mostly
jeans and Jamieson band shirts at the office?”

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. “I did
but I need new jeans and there’s a wait on the shirts. And after
yesterday, I want to look my best.”

“After yesterday?”

Lucy hadn’t yet heard the full recount of
yesterday, including the Travis connection. I sighed, knowing that
would come out this morning—best to get it over with.

After dressing reluctantly, Lucy and I were
jogging the pavement in the damp, chilly air. I huffed my way
through the lowdown and reaching the peak of the story—being the
arrival of Travis at my front door—Lucy had to stop mid-jog from a
stitch. It was tempting to abandon her to the sidewalk as she
gasped for air, but Lucy could move like an Olympic sprinter, so I
hovered, hands on my hips, while she wheezed and flexed.

“Maybe it’s fate,” she puffed out as she tilted
her torso to the side.

“Screw fate,” I hissed with more force than I
intended.

Lucy blinked and slowly righted herself in the
face of my outburst.

I rubbed at my brow. Four years had dulled my
anger of the past, giving me the impression I was moving on, yet
here it was, reasserting itself like a long lost friend.

My eyes narrowed on Lucy. “Are you telling me
you believe everything in my life was meant to be?”

Lucy paled. “Quinny, I didn’t—”

“Just—” I halted mid-sentence and stilled,
looking sideways as an eerie feeling washed over me. Deep breaths
filled my lungs as my eyes did a rapid scan of the suburban street.
Nothing seemed odd except the churning in my stomach and tingles of
fear tripping down my spine. Cars were parked up and down the
avenue, joggers passed by the path we were rudely blocking, aiming
dirty looks our way, and a dog across the road was busy peeing on
someone’s mailbox. I spun around. The sun was rising brightly,
forcing my eyes to squint, and the wind swirled around me, yet
something in the air didn’t feel right.

“Quinn?” Lucy scanned the street, picking up on
my fear like a bloodhound. “What is it?”

I shoved the anger away and forced a smile to my
lips. “Nothing, Lucy. Sorry. I didn’t mean to jump down your
throat.”

She fisted her hands on her hips and faced me.
“Yes. You did. But I don’t blame you. Maybe fate realised it fucked
you over and is trying to fix things.”

Her eyes were wide with hope. I shrugged her
statement off, did another scan of the street, and nodded ahead of
us. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Back home and showered, I slipped on my
dress—deep navy and sleeveless with a matching thin leather
belt—and pinned my tousled hair into a knot at the nape of my neck.
Adding some light makeup and hot pink lipstick to finish the look,
I sighed at my reflection, hoping it was an improvement on
yesterday.

Fighting snarls of rush hour traffic, I
delivered the paperwork to Jettison Records before heading over to
the office at Coogee.

Letting myself in with the key that had been in
the envelope, I called out hello. My feet echoed along the timber
flooring as I headed towards the back office, not hearing a
response.

Already the business line was ringing, so I
answered it, sinking into the chair as someone spoke to me about
the proofs for Jamieson’s album artwork. Of course I had no idea,
so I switched on the computer and promised to return the call. From
then on the phone didn’t stop, and it wasn’t until I heard a tap on
the open door that I realised two hours had passed.

Returning from the printer behind me, I was just
sitting in my chair and glanced up. For a split second I thought it
was Travis and completely missed the seat, falling to the floor
with a hard jolt.

“Oh shit.” Laughter bubbled out of him, and he
quickly subdued it, taking in the wild flush to my cheeks. “Didn’t
mean to startle you.”

He strode over and held out a hand to help me
up.

“That’s okay. Seems I startle easily,” I
replied, taking his hand and stumbling awkwardly to my feet.

“I’m Jared,” he told me. “You must be Quinn?
Evie said you were starting today.”

The third brother, I realised. Did the Valentine
men have all women falling to their feet or was it just me? My
backside was still a little bruised from meeting Mitch
yesterday.