The Billionaire of Bluebonnet (Bluebonnet #1.5)(3)
Author: Jessica Clare

Risa shivered. Was it anticipation or dread curling in her stomach right now?

* * *

After years of working for an elderly woman with health issues, Risa was a very light sleeper, attuned to waking up at the slightest hint of noise. So when she heard the low murmur of a man’s voice, she sat up in bed and glanced over at the clock.

Two in the morning.

What exactly was going on? Was Travis still working? She scrubbed at her eyes and tossed the covers aside, getting out of bed. She shouldn’t be so nosy, she knew she shouldn’t, but there was just something about Travis Jesson that made her toss aside all common sense. Pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms over her panties, she straightened the T-shirt she slept in and moved for her door, ignoring the bobbing of her full br**sts. She should get a bra if she was going to talk to Travis.

Then again, she just wanted to spy on him, and going braless meant that she’d avoid a midnight confrontation, which was smart if she didn’t want to creep the guy out. Since it was just spying, braless it was.

She carefully opened the door to her room, holding the handle and opening the door slowly so it wouldn’t creak. She began to head down the hall to the guest room where she’d left Travis, only to find the murmur of Travis’s voice coming from the opposite end of the house. Intrigued, she padded down the hall to the stairs, and peered down from the top of the banister.

The kitchen light was on.

Risa crept down the stairs, heading for the kitchen, her curiosity good and piqued now. She could still hear the low murmur of his voice. A late-night business meeting? A phone call? She approached the kitchen doorway and peered in.

Travis Jesson sat on the floor, his back against one of the kitchen cabinets. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the floor next to his hand. A large photo album was cradled in his lap.

Strangest of all, Gregory was lying beside Travis, his head on Travis’s knee, watching him.

As she stood in the shadows, Travis took another swig of whiskey and turned the page in the photo album. “This is me when I was a boy,” he said, pointing at a picture on the page and staring at the pig snout resting on his knee. “I had a dog. Not a pig. What the f**k am I supposed to do with a pig?”

The pig said nothing, of course, only inched closer to his hand, looking to be petted.

There was a slight slur to Travis’s words, and judging from the amount left in the bottle—a bottle that Pearl had saved for special occasions—she knew he’d been here for some time. And he’d drank quite a bit.

“Risa says I’m supposed to keep you.” He leaned his head back against the cabinets, staring at the ceiling. “Grandma wanted me to have you. I’m not sure she realized how busy I am. I’m due in Tokyo for two weeks at the end of this month. Pretty sure Japanese hotels don’t like pigs.” He thumped the back of his head against the cabinet. “So either way I look at this, I disappoint someone again. If I keep you, I disappoint my business partners because I can’t go to Tokyo with a pig. If I get rid of you, I disappoint my dead grandmother. And Risa.”

He shook his head and took another swig from the bottle.

Well, now, this was interesting. Real interesting. Who knew that a little whiskey and a conversation with a pig would show that Travis Jesson had a heart after all? A smile curved her mouth.

“I should have been here, pig,” he said softly. “Should have been here to say good-bye.”

Sadness made Risa’s smile fade. There was a wealth of guilt in his voice. He blamed himself for not coming to see Pearl toward the end. Not coming to her funeral. The sad thing was—no one blamed him but himself. Pearl had thought the sun rose and set on Travis. She’d never blamed him for being busy.

Risa leaned against the door frame, admiring the odd picture of billionaire and pig. Travis’s hair was rumpled as if he’d been sleeping. His chest was bare, and he wore boxers. Nothing more. His chest was broad and sculpted, a light brushing of dark hair on his pectorals. He was tanned, too. Tanned and gorgeous and entirely too delicious for someone as plump and frumpy as her.

She sighed. It didn’t mean he wasn’t the object of every dirty fantasy she’d had during the last few years. It just meant that that’s all they were—fantasies.

At her sigh, Gregory’s head went up and he looked to the doorway. His little skinny tail thumped and twirled rapidly.

Damn it.

Travis’s eyes narrowed and he set down the bottle just as he was about to take another swig. “Who’s there?”

Risa crossed her arms over her chest protectively, wishing she’d decided on the damn bra, and stepped out of the shadows. “Just me. I heard someone talking.”

Her face heated as his gaze skimmed over her figure—the baggy sleep pants, the thin T-shirt. She probably looked like an utter wreck. Then again, she thought to herself, so did he. She forced herself to be casual, to move to his side and sit down on the floor next to him, pulling her legs up against her chest. “Can’t sleep?”

His mouth curled into a hard smile. “Oh, I can sleep. This pig, however, thought he should sleep with me and that woke me up.”

Risa bit her lip to stop the smile from curving her mouth. “He always slept with Pearl. I imagine that he was lonely and figured you’d do.”

Travis snorted and took another swig from the bottle. After a moment’s contemplation, he offered it to her.

She took it and tried to imitate his swig. It burned, though, and she began to cough, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. “God, that stuff is awful.”

“Nah,” he said slowly. “It’s my favorite. Grandma always kept a bottle at the house because she knew I liked a whiskey after dinner.” He stared at the bottle, and his mouth twisted into an ugly expression. “There was dust on the bottle. She must have been holding it for a long time.”

She said nothing. What could she say? But he seemed so lost and alone that she reached out and clasped his hand, aching for his sorrow. “I miss her, too. She was a great lady. And she was ninety-eight, Travis. She had a long, full life and she didn’t mind that you were busy.”

“You said she was lonely,” he said harshly, gesturing at the pig. The pet immediately pushed his snout against Travis’s hand, snuffling and begging to be petted. His hand clenched for a moment, and then he laid it atop the pig’s head, scratching the ears.

“She wasn’t lonely at the end,” Risa told him softly. “She adored that pig. Even when her h*ps hurt and her back ached, she would still take him out for his daily walk. She liked to take care of him. It gave her something to take the loneliness out of the day. I was always here for her, too. She wasn’t forgotten.”

His gaze rested on the open photo album. “She said she was worried I worked too much. That money wasn’t everything.”

“I seem to recall her saying that at least twice a week to me, as well,” Risa said, her lips quirking in a smile. She moved to pull her hand from his, only his grip tightened over hers. Surprised, she met his eyes and found him staring at her with an intensity that seemed entirely too sober.

“You cared for her at the end, when we weren’t here,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

Her gaze was drawn to his mouth. Hard and firm, with just a hint of stubble surrounding it. Just enough to break the cold perfection of his face. “It was my job, but I loved her, too. I enjoyed living here with her and I miss her every day.”

Their clasped hands seemed suddenly intimate. As if he realized what she was thinking, his thumb stroked along the back of her hand in a gesture that made her shiver. She felt her n**ples harden through her thin shirt, and the flush began to creep back over her cheeks.

“I’m surprised I didn’t remember you,” he murmured.

“I’m not,” Risa said, and smiled to take the sting out of her words. “I worked really hard at being unobtrusive when family was here.”

He grunted, his free hand stroking along the top of Gregory’s head. The pig’s straight little tail began to windmill again with excitement and his eyes closed, clearly happy to be getting attention from people. Travis stroked his head for a few minutes and sighed heavily. “I’m usually traveling three out of four weeks in the month, Risa. I can’t take the pig.”

She swallowed hard because she knew what he was saying made sense, but she didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to think of poor Gregory being abandoned by everyone. Travis’s thumb was still brushing over her hand, making it difficult for her to concentrate. “It must be hard, all that travel. Hard to keep a relationship.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted the floor to swallow her up. Oh God. Why had she said that? The whiskey she’d chugged was burning in her belly. It was enough to make her skin warm but not enough to make her drunk. It had to be his presence.

Travis’s dark gaze was speculative as he looked at her. “No relationship at the moment.”

She nodded—what else could she say? There was an enormous knot in her throat at the moment.

His hand left hers and he turned toward her.

Risa watched, wide-eyed, as he placed a hand along her jaw and tilted her face toward his.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he told her softly. “Been thinking about it all day, and I think I have enough alcohol in me that I won’t care if you slap me.”

Before she could protest that she wouldn’t slap him, his mouth was on hers. Hot and wet and tasting of whiskey, his open mouth swooping over her own. Startled, she remained frozen underneath him for a moment, only to feel him finish the kiss quickly and then move lower, sucking and biting at her lower lip. Coaxing her to respond to him.

She moaned low, and he made a pleased sound in response. His hand went to her hip, turning her fully toward him. When she parted her lips, his tongue stroked into her mouth. He tasted warm and sweet, wholly different than that harsh chug of whiskey. His tongue brushed against her own, coaxing and teasing, and she felt an answering pulse of response between her legs. She was instantly wet, lost in this fantasy kiss.

He kissed just like a dream. Just like every dirty fantasy she’d ever had about him. And it didn’t matter that he was vulnerable and sad tonight and probably just a little drunk. This was a fantasy, right? Tomorrow she’d get up and drive to Dallas and start a new life and forget all about a kiss with a handsome man that was too far out of reach for fat, freckled Risa Moore.

But tonight, she might as well give in to the fantasy. And when his tongue stroked into her mouth again, she rubbed her tongue along his in response, sucking lightly at it as he withdrew from her.

Travis stared down at her, his eyes glazed with desire. “You’re beautiful.”

She gave him a wry look. “That’s the whiskey talking.”

“I’d need a lot more whiskey than that to make me drunk, Risa. That’s me talking.” His hand on her hip moved to the bare skin underneath her T-shirt, and he lightly grazed his fingertips over the curve of her belly. “I’ve been thinking about putting my hands on you all day.”