“Mmhmm. I’m going to,” she said.
Chapter 17
Travis stepped out of the shower first, using the support bars he’d mounted in the bathroom. Libby stayed behind to stand under the hot water a little longer. “You need me?” she asked, cracking one eyelid open to peer at him through the water coursing down over her head.
“No, I’m good. Take your time, love,” Travis answered, drying himself vigorously before wrapping the towel around his waist. He brushed his teeth, then ran a brush through his hair before blasting with the hairdryer haphazardly, not even caring how it looked.
Libby watched with only a small bit of envy as Travis placed the hairdryer back on the bathroom counter top and shook his head, causing his deep auburn waves to fall flawlessly into place. He ran his fingers over the bruised skin at the base of his neck above his left collar bone and grinned at himself in the mirror. He’d just received the single most important mark on his body, and he was damn proud of it.
Travis opened the bathroom door and made his way into the bedroom where his prosthetic sat leaning against the bed. He strapped it to his right leg, then walked over to his dresser and pulled on his clothes. Travis heard the shower turn off and knew Libby would be out shortly, so he went into the kitchen and started the coffee. He made a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs, fried ham and toast, and by then the coffee was ready. Travis made her coffee, exactly the way she liked it with lots of cream and sugar, and headed to the bathroom to bring it to her. As he walked by the sofa, his eyes fell on the bag of clothes she’d brought back with her from Lucas’s house. That was going to be a problem — for him anyway. He forced himself to put it out of his mind and went to the bathroom, to deliver Libby’s coffee. She still stood in the bathroom, having just finished drying her straight, thick, brown hair.
“Here, love. Brought you some coffee,” he said, running his fingers through her hair.
“Thank you,” she said, eagerly taking the cup from him and sipping several times.
“Love your hair,” he said, running his fingers through it again and tucking it behind her ear. “So shiny.”
“It’s plain brown. Unlike yours that looks like it has gold sparkling in it. Cannot believe all you do is shake your head to make it look like that. So unfair,” she teased with her eyebrow raised, sipping her coffee again.
“Your hair is beautiful. It’s like polished mahogany,” Travis said, dropping a kiss on her forehead and turning to leave the bathroom.
“Oh! Could you bring me that bag of clothes I left on the floor beside the sofa?” she asked.
Travis stopped where he was before slowly turning to face her. “Remember when you thought I was an asshole?” he asked.
“You were an asshole,” she countered, wondering what he was up to now.
“Well, I’m about to be an asshole again.”
“Oh? How and why is that?” she asked, cocking her hip out and placing her hands on both hips, wondering if she was going to have to kick his ass here and now.
“You can’t wear those clothes,” Travis said.
“I’m sorry, why can’t I wear my clothes?” she asked.
“Because they smell like Lucas. Once we wash them and his scent is gone, I have no problem with them, but, until then, I can’t handle my brand new mate smelling like another male.”
Libby dropped her hands from her hips and walked over to him, placing her hands on his chest as she looked up at him. “Travis, it’s just clothes. I’ve never smelled like any male but you.”
“Yeah, you have. And it’s killed me every time,” he admitted.
“But I’ve never…”
“I know. I know you haven’t slept with anyone but me. But to scent him on you after you spent the night with him, just that little bit almost drove me insane, even when I knew I had no right to be upset. Now that you’re finally mine, I don’t want to have to endure it again,” Travis explained.
“Okay,” Libby said, going up on tiptoe to kiss his lips.
“Okay?” he asked, looking for confirmation.
“Yeah. I understand. The problem is, now I have nothing clean to wear today,” Libby said.
Travis looked at his watch. “It’s only 9:00 A.M. We could run to your place, grab some clothes and whatever else you’ll need for the next few days, and still have plenty of time to make it back to do what we need to do before our customers start to arrive. If they arrive,” he added.
“Oh, they’ll arrive,” Libby assured him. “Do you have something for me to wear on the way to my house?” she asked.
“Let me find you some sweats or something,” Travis said, stepping away from her to dig through his dresser for some clothes for her. “Put them on the bed, love,” he called out. “Come eat when you get dressed.
“Okay,” Libby answered, dabbing a bit of makeup on her face.
After she was dressed, she walked into the kitchen to find him plating the breakfast he’d made for her. “Where are the clothes? I was going to throw them in the washer,” she said.
“I already did, along with a load of mine,” Travis answered.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Here’s breakfast,” he said, handing her a plate.
“Wow, I’m not used to having anyone cook for me unless I’m at the diner,” Libby admitted.
“I’ll do it each opportunity I get. Not that I can cook the things you do, but I can feed you pretty well,” Travis teased.
“Don’t underestimate yourself, this is good!” she said, eating her food hungrily.
As they sat eating breakfast, she subconsciously kept fingering her new mate mark.
“Does it hurt?” Travis asked.
Libby looked up at him. “Does what hurt?” she asked.
“Your mate mark,” Travis answered.
“Not really. I mean, I feel it, it’s more sore than anything, but even that’s not unbearable. What about yours?”
Travis beamed a huge smile immediately. “It’s a little sore, but not really even enough to grab my attention. You did a hell of job, though. It’s going to leave a scar.”
“It looks terrible,” she said.
“Naw, looks like I’ve been claimed. By this afternoon most of the bruising on it will be gone — shifter healing and all,” he said.
“I’m proud of it,” she said. “I can’t wait for our friends and family to notice.”
“Me, too,” Travis said. “Hey! We need to send Delilah a picture. She won’t be here to see them, and if she looks at me one more time and says, ‘Tiger’, in that condescending drawl of hers, which I have no doubt means, ‘Get off your ass and do what you’re supposed to’, I might snarl at her.”
“Yeah, and that wouldn’t be good. No matter how powerful any of you are, she’s stronger,” Libby said.
Travis nodded his agreement, as he placed his fork on his empty plate.
“Here,” Libby said, getting up and walking around to his side of the table. She sat on his lap and gathered her hair to move it to the other side of her neck so her mark would show clearly. Then she moved Travis’s hair behind his ear and used one hand to hold it out of the way. She leaned close to him as they both tilted their heads to display their mating marks proudly, and Libby used her phone to snap a selfie.