Page 62 of Maybe We Can Fake It

“Hey!” I protest. Though, really, I can’t argue that.

“Travis is upstairs if you’re looking for him,” she says without turning to me.

I falter as I’m pouring coffee into my thermos. Why would she assume I’m looking for Travis? As if he’s all I think about.

He’s not.

Even if I can’t get the feel of his hard cock in my hand out of my mind.

Wait a minute.

“Travis is upstairs? Why? What’s he even doing here? I thought you didn’t need his help anymore.”

“I told him I don’t, but he wanted to check in and make sure everything was good to go for tomorrow. And he was gonna help bring the booth over to the green and get it set up.”

“He doesn’t need to do that.” There are people here who I actually pay to do these jobs. I don’t want Travis to feel obligated to help with everything. He’s already done so much.

Addison continues artfully placing mango slices as I come back over to her workstation with my coffee. “I let him know Leoand Paul were set to do it, but he said he doesn’t trust either of them to do it right, and he’d feel better knowing it wasn’t going to fall apart on us.”

Despite his lack of faith in the staff I hired, a burst of happiness shoots through me at hearing how much Travis cares. Even when I don’t ask him for help, he’s still helping me. He might be all gruff and growly with people sometimes, but I think it’s an act. If people knew just how good of a person he is, they’d walk all over him.

I need to be careful thatI’mnot doing that. I’ll make sure to let him know things at the inn are covered and he doesn’t need to worry about us anymore. Addison got in a bunch of applications, so she’ll be able to hire more help once all this craziness is over.

“But wait. If he came to help with the booth, then why is he upstairs?”

Addison barely lifts one shoulder in a half-assed shrug, still laser-focused on her task. “He heard one of the cleaning staff mention a wobbly bed, and I assume he went to fix it.”

“Oh geez.”

That man, I swear.

Taking my coffee with me, I leave the kitchen and head upstairs to check the rooms. Most of the guest room doors are closed, but it doesn’t take long to find the open one. And when I spot Travis, I damn near swallow my tongue. He’s on the floor, ass up in the air, fiddling with one of the bed’s legs.

And did I mention his hot, denim-clad ass is up in the air?

I shamelessly ogle him a few more moments, then step farther into the room, closing and locking the door behind me.

At the sound of that, his head swings my way. “Hey,” he says. Then he goes back to fixing the bed like he doesn’t know he’s the most perfect man ever.

“You do not have to do this.” I take a sip of coffee before setting the thermos on the dresser.

“It’s no trouble,” he replies. His ass is still pointed up, and I’m two seconds away from marching over to him and smacking it. That’s not typically my thing, but man. I want to feel the muscle give and the heat of him under my palm. “There, that should do it.”

When he stands, black shirt tight across his chest and eyes bright like he’s happy to see me, I can’t hold back any longer.

“You are the fucking best,” I tell him, striding forward until I’m inches from him, and then stepping even closer so he’s forced to step back. He knocks into the bed, and I waste no time in pushing him down onto it. His body bounces slightly on the mattress, but bless him, the bed doesn’t wobble at all.

“What are you doing?” he asks, a mixture of confusion and amusement on his face.

With a mischievous smile, I jab one finger into his chest, encouraging him to lie down, and I straddle him as soon as he complies. My shoes are on the bed, which compromises the inn’s standards of cleanliness. But running my hands up Travis’s sides, I couldn’t care less.

As I lean down to kiss him, he threads his fingers through my hair and pulls me in, so I’m not sure who ends up kissing whom. But it doesn’t matter. I suck on his bottom lip, then pull back to nip at it before sucking on it again. Once I let go, he licks at my lips, and I open for him. His hand on the back of my head provides a gentle pressure that keeps my face close to his, and I’ve never minded anything less.

But soon I ache to get my mouth on him in other places. Places I’ve yet to explore. We’ve fooled around a couple times now—a fact which still blows my mind—but I haven’t had a taste of his cock yet, and that needs to be remedied immediately.

I whine, which makes him release me, allowing me to pull back and move down to his neck. Tugging his shirt collar aside, I bitedown on the place where his neck meets his shoulder. He groans and his hands come around my back, gripping me tightly.

Shuffling myself so I can get to his stomach, I ruck up his shirt and lick a line down his abs with the tip of my tongue. They flutter under the treatment, so I lick my way back up and then down again. Then I switch to using teeth, which earns me another, louder groan and his hand back in my hair.

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