36. Caleb

THIRTY-SIX

"DAMN, SOMEONE'S COOKING something amazing," I said as we headed down the hallway to our condo.

"Yeah, they are. As a matter of fact…" Travis opened our door, and the scent came wafting out. He gestured for me to go in first, and I gave him a curious look before stepping inside.

"Holy shit." I didn't get far—the setup in front of me stopped me in my tracks.

The lights were low, curtains pulled fully open to let in the city view, while music played faintly in the background. Balloons in every shade of blue—my favorite color—were strung together to make an arch over the window, with a few others left loose to dangle near the ceiling. A smaller, more intimate table than the one in our dining room had been brought in, complete with crisp white linen, tapered candles, and roses. In the kitchen, a chef was busy at the stove, cooking something I couldn't see but that immediately had my stomach growling.

"Travis…" As the door clicked shut, he came to stand beside me, and I stared at him with wide eyes. "What have you done?"

He lifted a shoulder and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You said you didn't want a party."

I was unable to form words due to the shock flooding through my veins. Spending the day at the brewery was already outside of Travis's comfort zone, but this? This was romance. And he didn't do romance.

"Is this…okay?" For the first time maybe ever, he sounded a bit unsure.

I looked back at the incredible scene before us and ran a hand over my hair. This was the last thing I'd expected, and it made something in my chest tighten. "It's incredible."

"Yeah?"

I turned back to him and reached for his face, then brushed a kiss across his pouty mouth as he pulled me in flush against him. My mind raced, matching the rapid pace of my heart as I sank into the warm heat of his mouth, our tongues leisurely tangling and tasting.

"Best birthday ever," I said, just before the chef cleared her throat.

"Dinner will be ready in five. Can I get you both drinks?"

"We can get—" I started.

"That would be great, thank you."

As she headed off to grab them, Travis caught the look I was giving him and shook his head.

"It's already taken care of. Just enjoy it. You know how to do that, right?"

"How not to lift a finger? Nope, I suppose you'll have to show me."

"Smartass." He pulled out my chair and motioned for me to sit.

"You did not just pull out my chair."

"I did. I'm chivalrous like that."

"Really? Since when?"

"Since now, so sit your ass down and enjoy your birthday dinner, you sexy fucker."

A laugh sputtered out of me, but I sat down and let him push it in. Not long ago, I would've expected the chair to break on me, like some kind of evil prank to watch me fall on my ass, and now all this?

I glanced around the room again, soaking in the time and effort this must've taken to put together, then looked across the table, where Travis had taken his seat.

"Okay, spill. Where's the real Travis? What have you done with him?"

Travis's lips tugged up at one corner. "I stripped and tied him to your bed. He wasn't upset about it at all."

I grinned at his ridiculousness, but still looked past his shoulder to the hall that led to my room. "That a request for later?"

Travis's blue eyes darkened as they lowered to my mouth. "If that's what you want. Tonight's about you, remember, not me."

I chuckled and leaned back in my chair, stroking the white tablecloth. "Now I know you're an imposter. Last time I checked, everything was about you."

"Well, maybe I've changed."

Our chef stopped by the table then with a glass of beer for me and a wine for Travis, and after thanking her, I eyed his glass.

"So sophisticated."

"I told you, I've changed." He held up his glass to clink against mine, and while I knew he was joking about "changing," something about the statement made my stomach twist.

I didn't want Travis to change. Not for me. The whole reason I was drawn to him was because of who he was—the outrageous flirt who did and said whatever was on his mind—but it seemed he was working a different angle today. One I didn't even think he realized he was doing. That of the attentive boyfriend.

A role he'd no doubt run screaming from if I even dared to mention it, because Travis didn't do boyfriends. Didn't do commitment. So to see him like this, putting in such an effort for me, had completely thrown me for a loop.

"You're being quiet."

I looked back across the table to see him studying me over the top of his glass, and I took a quick sip of my beer to gather my thoughts.

"I'm just wondering when you had the time to put all of this together. We've practically been joined at the?—"

"Dick?"

And there was the Travis I knew. "Yeah, something like that."

"Well, you know, I occasionally let you go to shower and eat…food. I was stealthy."

"Yes, you were." I nodded and looked over my shoulder to where the chef was plating our food. "Oh shit, is that lobster?"

"Surf and turf," Travis said, grinning. "If I remember right, that's?—"

"My favorite. You get the best of both worlds."

"Exactly. And who wouldn't want that?"

"Wow." I couldn't remember the last time anyone had gone to such trouble to make me feel special, and my heart did all kinds of trippy things in my chest. I hooked my foot around his ankle, needing to connect us in some way. "You really thought of everything."

Travis shrugged. "I know you."

That much was clear. In fact, I was starting to think he knew me better than I knew myself. But that had always been the way with Travis. He was intuitive like that, drawing me out of my shell when I'd usually hide away. Showing me what life was like through his lens instead of mine. All bold colors, outlandish acts, and extravagant gestures…apparently.

The candlelight flickered between us, casting shadows on his gorgeous face. When he brought his glass to his lips, I couldn't help but lick mine.

Travis shifted on his seat, clearing his throat. "If you don't stop looking at me like that, your surf and turf is going to get cold and tossed."

"Can't have that."

"Nope. So stare at a wall or something, would you? I'm trying to fucking behave myself over here."

"Who asked you to do that?"

"Caleb…"

"Hmm?" I ran my foot up the inside of his leg.

"Do you remember what happened the last time you played footsie with me under a table?"

Hell yes I did. It was seared into my memory. "I do. And this one's not nearly as sturdy."

Travis brought his feet together under the table, trapping my foot as he leaned toward me. "Then unless you want an audience while I suck your dick, you're gonna want to stop teasing me."

My cock jerked at the idea, but even I had my limits. As I was sure the poor chef did.

I let out a sigh and drew my foot back to my side of the table. "Damn, you really are behaving tonight."

"I told you." Travis winked at me, and the flirtatious gesture did nothing to ease the ache between my thighs. "I've changed. So stop being a bad influence."

A burst of laughter left me just as the chef stopped by our table with two plates in hand. She slid them in front of us with a smile, and as she turned to walk off, I leaned over to whisper, "I'm being a bad influence?"

Travis picked up his napkin and put it in his lap. "You're the one who wants me to strip you naked so you can show off your birthday suit to the chef."

My mouth fell open as Travis looked to the kitchen and pursed his lips.

"On second thought, you think she'd be into it? The more we talk about it, the more I'm liking the idea…"

I shook my head and gestured with my knife to the lobster tail sitting over his filet mignon. "Put some of that in your mouth before you ruin your sparkling record of good behavior tonight."

Travis cut a piece off and brought it to his lips. "Fine. But just so you know, my good behavior ends after this meal. Dessert is fair game."

"Bringing me something to blow?"

"Caleb…" He growled.

"What? I meant candles." When I smirked, he narrowed those gorgeous ice-blue eyes, and I popped a bite of lobster in my mouth. It was so damn good it practically melted on my tongue. I couldn't help my low moan, and from the sound coming across the table, neither could Travis.

He swallowed his bite and pointed at his plate. "Remind me that on my birthday, I want surf and turf all day."

"Your birthday's not until February."

"That's why I need a reminder."

I grinned and cut into the steak. The fact that he was talking about months from now didn't escape my notice. Like he expected us to still be this close.

Was that even possible? There was no way I could watch Travis put on a front in public and flirt with other guys, not after all this.

But we couldn't exactly just… What? Be together? What would people think? Shit, what would our parents think? Had Travis even considered that?

"Not gonna eat your steak?" Travis nodded at the forkful I held.

I slid the bite between my teeth, and it was just as delicious as the lobster. It was a good thing he knew me so well, because having to choose between the two would've been an impossible task.

After washing it down with my beer, I brought my napkin to my lips. "Have you thought about what Dad and Vera would say if they found out about us?"

Travis coughed around his mouthful of steak. "Why? You planning on telling them?"

"I mean, no. I haven't exactly planned anything when it comes to…this."

"This?" He cocked a grin. "Fucking your stepbrother wasn't on your to-do list?"

"Was it on yours?"

"Yes."

I knocked my leg against his. "I'm serious."

"So am I." He took a sip of his wine and shrugged. "I think they'd be impressed if they could see us right now. They're the ones who wanted us to get along."

"I don't think they meant like this."

"No? Having sex and breaking tables too much?"

I smirked. "Maybe a little."

"It's a better alternative than hating each other, don't you think?"

"I mean…yeah. But?—"

"But what? Who cares what anyone else thinks? It's not their life."As I let those words sink in, he took another swallow of wine and then added, "Besides, I'm pretty sure my mom knows something's up anyway."

My fork fell to the plate with a clank. "What?"

"I'm not exactly the subtlest person in the world, and she knows me. She knew how close we always were and that I had a massive crush on you. I highly doubt she and Dick would've encouraged us to move in together if they had a problem with it. Especially knowing I'd be tempted to make move on you."

Holy hell, was he serious? All I could do was stare at him as my mind tried to make sense of what he was saying.

Was it possible Vera knew what had torn us apart all this time? And my dad?

"Oh my God."

Travis's brow creased and he reached out to rest his fingers over mine. "Don't freak out. They don't actually know anything. No one does. It's just you and me. Okay?"

I looked down at where our hands touched. His nails were painted dark, almost black, such a contrast to mine. Just a small example of how different we were, and yet…

"I'm not freaking out," I said, lifting my gaze to meet his. "Just processing."

And it was true. I didn't know why I felt such relief in that moment when I'd expected to feel the opposite, but just the idea that our parents weren't completely oblivious and might not disown us for something others would…it was like a weight off somehow. Even if Travis and I hadn't defined what was happening between us.

"Everything is satisfactory, I hope?" the chef asked as she brought us refills.

I didn't move my hand or my gaze away from Travis's, just watched him through the flickering candlelight.

"It's perfect," I said, and Travis smiled. One of those proud but almost shy and utterly sexy smiles that made my boxer briefs way too tight.

"Happy to hear it. Dessert is ready whenever you are."

"Actually, I think we're good for the night," Travis said. "You're free to go."

"I'll have my assistant come by in the morning to clean up. Enjoy your evening."

We said our thanks as she quietly left, and when the door clicked shut, I linked my fingers through Travis's. He brought our joined hands up to press a kiss to my knuckles.

"Have you had a good day?" he asked.

"Mhmm. There's just one more thing I want for my birthday."

"Yes."

I smirked. "You don't know what it is, though."

"It's yours anyway. What do you want?"

Pushing away from the table, I kept our hands joined as I got to my feet. "For you to make me yours."