The Lair

by Lisina Coney

“Can you take me to a hotel?” Travis searches my gaze before he nods again. “Grab your things and I’ll drive you. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Thank you for… for everything.” Even if it makes my palms sweat a little, I add, “I’ve got it from here. You can go back home.” “All right.” But Travis doesn’t leave my side. And he doesn’t go home.

he books two adjoining rooms for the night and pays for them. Then he carries my bags to the elevator and gestures for me to follow him.

“If you need me, give me a call or a knock.” I ignore the frantic beating of my heart and ask him, “Why are you doing all this for me?”

“I said nothing was gonna happen to you, and I meant it.” Before the butterfly in my stomach can react, he adds, “I’ll make a few calls tomorrow. See what apartments we can find in the area.”

“I mean it, Allie. You need anything, you call me. Understood?” I swallow. “Understood.” He dips his chin. “Try to sleep.” I nod again.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer and give some cockroaches a new place to live in your mattress.”

“You’re a gem, Allie Cat.” “And you’re a pain in my ass,” I tease him, “but you’re a gem too.”

If I gave my present to Jude, Jude gave it to Sandra, and Sandra gave it to Charlie, that means… that means Travis could have a gift for me. Not now, heart. Behave.

“I hope you won’t fire me for this, boss.”

“This is what a grumpy boss looks like” sounds about as accurate as a mug for Travis can get. “I’m still on the payroll, right?” Charlie asks.

and my heart leaps at the sight of a book of math riddles and a gift voucher for Barbara’s bakery. “I love this, Travis. It’s perfect. Thank you.” It really is. He knows math is my thing, and the fact that he remembered and put care into his gift makes my insides go all gooey.

“Allie.” I turn to him with a smile. “Yes, boss man?”

“I have something else for you.” I frown. “What do you mean?” Wordlessly, he reaches into one of his pockets and gives me a key.

“What is this?” Nothing, not a single thing in this world, could’ve prepared me for the words that leave Travis’s mouth next. “You’re moving in with me.”

“Travis—” “You don’t have to accept if you don’t feel comfortable,” he

live alone in a farmhouse just ten minutes

away. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms. I don’t use nearly half of the space, and we both know you can’t stay in that shithole any longer. The hotel isn’t a long-term option either.”

down. “I don’t want to intrude in your personal life or be a bother.” “I wouldn’t have offere...

“You’ll have your own bedroom and bathroom. We’ll share the living room and kitchen, but...

“I appreciate how thoughtful you are, but I can’t say yes. It’s too much. I would be in your space all day, then at work too…”

“How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not a bother. I don’t mind being around you, and I sure as fuck would rather have you protected under my roof than living at some goddamn apartment that almost got broken into.”

“What about rent?”

“What about it?” If this big, dumb idiot tells me I won’t have to pay rent… “How much would I owe you? Because I am paying rent in the very hypothetical case that I agree to move in with you temporarily. It’s nonnegotiable.”

“We’ll agree on something.” “How much?” I press.

“What about bills?” I ask next, as if living with Travis didn’t have the potential to become a terrible idea. “The amount I just told you covers everything.” My ass it covers everything—it’s too low, and he knows it. “Consider it. You don’t have to give me an answer now.”

“I’m feeling much better now. You don’t have to keep playing babysitter.” “You think I’m playing babysitter?”

“Why?” I ask him, ignoring his question. “Why are you doing

“Because I want you to be safe at all times, goddammit. If anything happened to you…” I hold my breath. Travis shakes his head and drops his gaze. “I understand if you don’t want to stay with me or think it’s weird, but I’m not gonna

let you deal with this alone. If you wanna stay at the hotel, let me pay for it.”

“Are you a hundred percent sure about me moving in?” I ask him carefully. “Yes.” “A thousand percent?” “Yes.” “A million percent?” I finally get that grunt. “Allie.” “Promise me you won’t kill me or sell my organs?”

“Your organs are safe with me. You promise your stubbornness won’t kill me?” “I don’t think I can. My stubbornness is pretty deadly.”

“Keep it,” that gravelly voice says as he gestures to the key with his chin. “If you like the house, I’ll help you move all your stuff.”

Because I want you to be safe at all times, goddammit. If anything happened to you… I might not survive moving in with Travis Ward after all.

when they’re on all fours.” The words on all fours shouldn’t leave Travis’s mouth ever again.

give him, too focused on the heat climbing up my neck, all the way to my cheeks. Stop. Am I fourteen? But because that’s not a socially acceptable answer, I add, “I hope they like me.” “They will,”

He gestures with his hand, and both dogs slow their pace. They sit down a few feet away from their owner, tongues hanging from those cute faces, waiting for a new order. I won’t lie—that was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. Travis oozes authority and confidence on a normal day, but seeing him in his element, on his property, interacting with his dogs, is something else entirely. When did it get so hot in here?

“Oh my god. Aren’t you some cute giants?” I look at my boss, whose eyes are already on me. “What are their names? How old are they? Are they boys or girls? Sorry, too many questions.”

“Both are boys—brothers. They belonged to a friend of my uncle’s, but he passed away three years ago, and I took them in. This one—”

—is Buddy. His brother is Cooper. They’re both five.” My heart swells. “Can I pet them?” His eyes stay on me for a second to...

“She’s a friend, all right? Be gentle with her.” He talks to them. Also, me? A friend? Sure, we have friendship bracelets now, but I didn’t think he took those seriously.

“It’s all right. We can share meals. I could cook for both of us.” He sends me an unreadable look over his shoulder as we move across the hall. “You’re not my housekeeper.” I frown at his comment. “I never said I was or wanted to be.”

“You don’t have to cook for me.”

“What if I want to?” “You don’t have to.” “You didn’t have to offer me a place to live, yet here we are.” I get one of those frustrated sighs that make him so endearing. “We’ll see.”

“What are you doing?” he repeats, even though I’ve already answered his question. “I’m making pizzas for dinner. There’s one for you if you want.”

“Get up. You’ll catch a cold sitting there.” “I’ll be fine.” I give him a small smile, hoping to get one in return or—at the very least—a frownless expression. I get neither. “I’m watching them, so they don’t get burned.” “They won’t,” he grunts. “Get up.” Travis holds out a hand in my direction. “Come on.”

“Dinner should be ready in ten. Are you hungry?” I’ll take his grunt as a yes. “You didn’t have to cook for me.” “And you didn’t have to offer me a room here, but alas. It’s not like I’m being forced to do it, boss man. I’m doing it because I want to. I love cooking. It’s relaxing.” “Don’t call me that.” “Don’t call you what? Boss man?” “We’re not at work.” I shrug. “Fair enough.”

He doesn’t come back until the pizzas are done, and I don’t think I’ve struggled so much to take something out of the oven before. Not because these pizzas are particularly heavy, but because Travis is wearing sweatpants. Gray ones.

Hell yes

“It’s nothing. Where do you usually eat? I’ll grab us some plates.” “You cooked. I got it from here,” he decides. “The couch is fine. You can go sit down.”

We’ve just had a homemade dinner together, and now we’re watching TV like friends would do. No biggie. Did I mention he’s wearing gray sweatpants?