Miss Me; When I'm Gone (editing)

CHAPTER 3 (Travis)

Travis

She smelled like a fucking cinnamon bun. That sweet cream icing and cinnamon smell that made your mouth water. Not taking deep whiffs as her scent wafted over me was hard. But I managed not to act like a psycho and pull her up against me so I could bury my face in her neck and just breathe.

I'd never known a woman to smell like a cinnamon bun, but damn, it was a turn-on.

I got her hand wrapped up and then led her down the stairs. She seemed confused about something, but she didn't say much.

I asked her if she had a purse, and she nodded and went to get it from the table beside the door. It wasn't what most women would call a purse; it was a faded blue backpack. She slung it over her shoulder and looked back at the house with a worried expression.

"I'm not done cleaning," she said, then looked back at me.

"You can't clean with your hand torn open," I pointed out, unable to suppress a grin.

Her brow puckered into a frown, "it isn't that bad. I can work like this," she said, holding up her bandaged hand. I

shook my head and opened the door. "No, you can't." we stepped outside, and saw that my truck had arrived. I had been waiting for someone to drop it off. Good, I could drive it instead of her car.

"Where's your car?" I asked her.

"I don't have one."

"Did someone bring you?" I asked, already knowing her answer would be that her boyfriend had brought her. Fuck.

"I have a neighbor who works at the Country Club. I ride with him, and then I walk here from there." A neighbor?

"He doesn't bring you here?" she shook her head and looked at me like I was crazy.

"No. It's like a mile away. I enjoy the walk."

"who's your neighbor?" I ask.
"His name is Owen."

I was going to have to talk to Owen. It wasn't safe for someone who looked like her to be walking around by herself. Miami Place was a safe place, but there were people who drove through going from one town to the next.

"Does Owen take you home?" She glanced at me with uncertainty. Like she wasn't sure she should answer me.

"Sometimes-yes, most of the time."

Why didn't she have a car? She had to be twenty one or twenty two she wasn't a kid she had a job and an apartment, I assume.
"How do you get home when Owen doesn't give you a ride?" I asked, holding the truck door open for her. I held out my hand for her to take with her good one and helped her into the cab of the truck.

"I walk," she replied not looking at me.

Fucking hell

Glancing down at her cheap flip flops, I noticed that she had perfect little pink tipped toes. Even her feet had to be sexy? Damn. She tucked her feet back, and I knew she had seen me looking at them. I closed the truck door and took my time walking around to the driver's side.

This girl needed help, but I couldn't save her. I was here for a week, maybe two, before I headed back to California. Getting worked up over this girl's problems wasn't smart.

My cell phone started ringing in my pocket before I could start the engine, and I knew it was Karleah. She was expecting me at around two. Glancing at the clock it was almost to now.

"Hey," I answered into the phone, as I cranked up the truck and headed towards the main road.

"Did you get some sleep?" she asked. I could hear Adelia Jane, her baby girl, fussing in the background.

"Uh, yeah." I replied. I couldn't tell her how little sleep I'd gotten, since the reason was sitting beside me.

"You still coming at two?" Dave said he'd give us an hour and then he'll be here by three."

I glanced over at Blair's injured hand. That was going to take a while. An ER waiting room was never fast.

"There was an accident this morning. The girl who clean De's house fell and sliced her hand open. I'm taking her to get stitches. Could be a while before I get there."

"Oh, no!" Karleah said, her voice filled with concern. One of the many reasons I preferred Karleah to De.

"Is she okay?"

She hadn't even winced when I cleaned her wound with peroxide. Hell even I winced when I had a cut like that.

"Seems to be. Just a nasty cut. She doesn't have a car, and I'll need to take her home afterward. Might be later on tonight before I get there. But you've got me for the rest of the week. You'll be sick of my face by Sunday." I assured her.

Karleah laughed. "Doubt it, but that's fine. Take your time. Get her fixed up and home safely. I'll take a nap with Adelia Jane. She was up a lot of last night. She's teething."

"Get some sleep then, sweetheart. I'll see you tonight." I replied before ending the call.

"You don't have to stay with me. I'll get a cab to take me home," Blair said. I wasn't leaving her to get stitches and take a cab home. Did I look like the kind of jackass who would do that?

"I'll stay with you" I said firmly

"Really, it's very nice of you to take me. But I've had cuts worse than this before. I don't even need stitches. I can just finish up cleaning and head home."

What? Was she serious?

"You're getting stitches, and I'm taking you home." I was frustrated and getting pissed. Not at her. God, who the hell could get pissed at someone who looked like her? But I was pissed that she seemed to think it was okay not get stitches.

She didn't argue this time. I glanced over at her, and she was sitting straighter, and her body was leaning towards the door as if she was trying to get away from me. Had I scared her?

"Look Blair, you were cleaning my sister's house, and you got hurt. It's our responsibility to make sure you are properly taken care of. I'm not going to let you finish cleaning the house today or even tomorrow. You can come back once your hand is better and it doesn't hurt. I'll be here all week, and I can clean up after myself, unlike my sister. I don't need a house cleaner."

She didn't look at me, but she nodded. It took like that was the only response I was going to get. Fine. She could pout about this, but seriously, all id done was demand that she let me take of her. What was her deal?