Page 75 of Fashionista's Playbook

Vincent had known.

Second worst day of my life was those flashing blue and red lights in front of the house. Vincent telling me to keep my damn mouth shut—and then cops leading him away in handcuffs.

For me. He went to prison for me. Because of a stupid choice I’d made. And I’d spent every day since trying to make it up to him.

I prowled the house, tried playing a new RPG on the Xbox, but I couldn’t focus. I ended up at my computer in the office, sorting through fan emails. Something Moriah stayed on top of. I deleted the marriage proposals and unsolicited nude photos and was left with a few emails from actual fans—most of them kids.

Replying to those made me feel like I was making an impact off the field. I even pushed some through to the Travis’ Kids foundation email for Bianca.

I still cringed when Bianca came up. She rarely came in now without looking for Vin. Who, no doubt, was ghosting her. I’dhave told him to stay away, avoided all of that, if I hadn’t been tangled up with one of my employees myself.

And here we were.

Looking for something to do, I found the name of the caterer and sent an email, ordering enough food to cover if a few of the guys didn’t have plans for the holiday. The thought of Moriah spending years eating alone on Thanksgiving made my gut sick.

Now she’d have her parents and me. At my house.

Fresh panic wedged itself in my chest.

I stretched my back and rubbed my hands over my face.

“Hey…” A gentle voice called from the doorway. “You okay?”

A sleepy, disheveled Moriah was standing there, eyeing me with concern. She wore my white undershirt and little else. Easily the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. My heart flipped and the panic ebbed.

When she approached, I pulled her into my lap behind the desk.

“Yeah, Mariposa. Couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to wake you.” I nuzzled her neck, inhaling the scent of her.

She smiled and covered a yawn with her hand. “It’s okay, I didn’t wake up until the bed got cold. I worried something was wrong.”

“Nah, just restless.”

She glanced at the screen and frowned. “I could have done that.”

“I figured it would be harder for them to say no to me on short notice.”

“Make sense.” She cuddled against me, loose and at ease. The first times I had touched her, she’d been tense. Not afraid, but something else.

I cherished her trust. I’d protect that, and her, with physical violence if I had to.

“Think we should invite Bianca?”

I stopped short of flinching. She was so warm in my arms that I didn’t want to mess it up with Vincent’s nonsense.

“Travis?” She sat up in my arms, turned to me with a frown.

“I think Vin’s avoiding her. He does that, screws around then disappears.”

She sighed and lay back against me. “Explains why he’s not been around as much.”

I hadn’t thought about it until then, but she was right. Bianca and Moriah both worked out of my home office—though Moriah much more.

There wasn’t much I could do about it now. “Let’s go back to bed.”

When I finally slept, I clung not only to her body, but to the hope our budding relationship would survive Thanksgiving.

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