Haven, Withstanding -The Traveler Series ✔

Chapter 1 - Haven

Opening the kitchen cabinets, I sighed. It had been a long day at work and the thought of cooking dinner seemed more of a nuisance than anything. Spinning around, I prayed there was something quick and easy in the refrigerator. Flinging the door open and scanning the shelves, I groaned. New hope arose as I opened the freezer door in the same fashion, only to be met with the same disdain. Nothing looked good. Nothing sounded good. Nothing here would be a quick fix kind of meal.

"Hey babe," I whined as I begrudgingly dragged my feet into the living room, defeated. Nash grinned at me knowingly, "We eating out again tonight, Hay?"

I nodded, thankful he was understanding but ashamed I wasn't the type of woman that spent a lot of time in the kitchen. I knew it would be healthier. It would be cheaper. We spent too much money eating out, but damnit, man. I'm too tired for all this cooking and house cleaning bullshit.

"You realize the weather is pretty crappy right now, right?" Nash asked, eyeing me quizzically. It was mid-April and should have been bright and sunny and spring like. However, mother nature never played by the rules. I heard the sleet, snow, freezing rain, ice--whatever the weatherman decided to call it today-- hitting our living room windows with ferocity.

Did we really need to eat though? Like, at all? It almost seemed like such a hassle that I wanted to just skip dinner altogether. I was that lazy. But that was me. That was not Nash. That would never be Nash. He needed a full three meals and 12,000 different evening snacks to be happy.

I grumbled, "I know, I know... where you want to eat?"

"A restaurant."

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what game we were about to play but maybe, possibly, out of pure luck, Nash might choose a place to eat this time. Maybe it wouldn't fall on my shoulders, yet again. Why was it always on me to pick a restaurant? "Which one?" I asked passively.

"One that serves food."

"What kind of food?"

"Edible food."

"Well... what type of food?"

"Good food."

I hit him in the arm frustrated, and fell into the couch. He just laughed at me, obviously amused by my anguish. I couldn't help but smile at him. No matter how mad he made me or how frustrating he could be, I loved him. Hopelessly. He was my everything. From the second we met, we clicked and I just knew one day, I would marry that man.

He was handsome in a rugged way. Stocky and built. With stubble that he rarely shaved, his face was round with an ungodly, perfectly sized nose that fit flawlessly between his deep blue eyes. His dark, long lashes could make any woman jealous and his thick blonde hair, a little too long, always fell in front of his eyes. He was constantly shaking his head to force his hair from restricting his view, unknowingly drawing attention to his lovely peepers. And while his appearance was drool worthy, he had an intimidating authority about him. His aura naturally demanded respect without ever speaking such. It was a quality most men lacked now in days.

And I knew. I reminded myself every day. I would never be able to face life without him. He was my rock, my champion, my cheerleader... my best friend. On days where he pissed me off and I just wanted to stab him with the closest kitchen knife, I knew it was an empty threat. I would miss him too much.

That's true love right there.

We slipped and slid walking through the yard towards our Jeep. If it wasn't for the fact that I truly and deeply did not want to cook tonight, I would suggest we just stay in. But I was selfish. I prayed they had salted the roads. Surely the main roads would be fine, we just needed to find a busy route to follow. The highway would be safe, I'm certain of it. And Nash was an excellent driver. I had never felt safer with anyone else in such weather.