“What brings you onto my property?” Rhev said, cradling his mug with both hands and trying to absorb its warmth. “Got a problem.” “I can’t fix your personality, sorry.” Lassiter laughed, the sound ringing through the house like church bells. “No.. I like myself just as I am, thank you.” “Can’t help your delusional nature, either.” “I need to find an address.” “Do I look like the phone book?” “You look like shit, as a matter of fact.” “And you with the compliments.” Rhev finished his coffee. “What makes you think I’d help you?” “Because.” “You want to toss in a couple of nouns and verbs there? I’m lost.” Lassiter grew serious, his ethereal beauty losing its SOP fuck-yourself smirk. “I’m here on official business.” Rhev frowned. “No offense, but I thought your boss pink-slipped your ass.” “I’ve got one last shot at being a good boy.”

“What brings you onto my property?" Rhev said, cradling his mug with both hands trying to absorb its warmth.Got a problem"I can't fix your personality, sorry”

“He got in my face and started jabbing a finger into my chest. “Then we don’t want your help, if this is what it looks like. First you bring a human among us, and now this? I don’t like your kind, and I’m not the only one. They can’t be trusted. You can’t be trusted.” He drew the last word out, practically hissing it. That’s our Eric. What a charmer. Ladies, try not to swoon.”

“And because I’m so out of control, I can’t help myself. I’m not even mine anymore, I’m yours, and what if you decide that you don’t want me? How could you want me like I want you?”

“Pigeon?”“Yeah?”A few moments passed, and then he sighed. “Nothing.”Travis hesitated. “I can’t shake this feeling,” he said under his breath.“What do you mean? Like a bad feeling?” I said, suddenly nervous.He turned to me with concern in his eyes, “I have this crazy feeling that once we get home, I’m going to wake up. Like none of this was real.”I slid my arms around his waist, running my hands up the lean muscles of his back. “Is that what you’re worried about?”He looked down to his wrist, and then glanced to the thick silver band on his left finger. “I just can’t shake the feeling that the bubble’s going to burst, and I’m going to be lying in my bed alone, wishing you were there with me.”“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Trav! I’ve dumped someone for you—twice—I’ve picked up and went to Vegas with you—twice—I’ve literally gone through hell and back, married you and branded myself with your name. I’m running out of ideas to prove to you that I’m yours.”A small smile graced his lips. “I love it when you say that.”“That I’m yours?” I asked. I leaned up on the balls of my feet, pressing my lips against his. “I. Am. Yours. Mrs. Travis Maddox, forever and always.”His small smile faded as he looked at the boarding gate and then down to me. “I’m gonna fuck it up, Pigeon. You’re gonna get sick of my shit.”I laughed. “I’m sick of your shit, now. I still married you.”“I thought once we got married, that I’d feel a little more reassured about losing you. But I feel like if I get on that plane….”“Travis? I love you. Let’s go home.”His eyebrows pulled in. “You won’t leave me, right? Even when I’m a pain in the ass?”“I vowed in front of God…and Elvis…that I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”His frown lightened a bit. “This is forever?”One corner of my mouth turned up. “Would it make you feel better if we made a wager?”“What kind of husband would I be if I bet against my own marriage?”I smiled. “The stupid kind. Didn’t you listen to your dad when he told you not to bet against me?”He raised an eyebrow. “So you’re that sure, huh? You’d bet on it?”I wrapped my arms around his neck and smiled against his lips. “I’d bet my first born. That’s how sure I am.”And then the peace returned.“You can’t be that sure,” he said, the anxiousness absent from his voice.I raised an eyebrow, and my mouth pulled to one side. “Wanna bet?”

“I can’t do nothing for you either, Billy. You know that. None of us can. You got to understand that as soon as a man goes to help somebody, he leaves himself wide open. He has to be cagey, Billy, you should know that as well as anyone. What could I do? I can’t fix your stuttering. I can’t wipe the razorblade scars off your wrists or the cigarette burns off the back of your hands. I can’t give you a new mother. And as far as the nurse riding you like this, rubbing your nose in your weakness till what little dignity you got left is gone and you shrink up to nothing from humiliation, I can’t do anything about that, either.”