Finding Refuge Read online

  Finding Refuge

  by

  Lucy Francis

  COPYRIGHT 2012 by Lucy Francis

  Amazon Edition

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Art by Lucy Francis.

  Images from:

  Diego Cervo / Bigstock.com

  Randy Hines / 123rf

  First Edition, June 2012

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Dedication

  For my editor, Trish, and my reader, Kim. Ladies, you rock!

  I literally could not do this without you.

  Chapter One

  Travis Holt sat in his truck, eyes closed, fingers clenched around the steering wheel. Melancholy seeped out of the prison inside him and he brutally shoved it back into place. Lunch hadn’t helped his mood any, but it didn’t really matter. He faced several hours of work before the day ended, checking on various jobs in progress, meeting with an inspector for a final punch list, ensuring everything stayed on schedule. It all had to get done, and the rest of the world didn’t care if he was having a lousy day.

  A gentle breeze wafted through the half-lowered window, brushing over his face and ruffling his hair. He drew a deep breath of air touched with the scent of warming earth. The smell of spring that was so late in coming this year. He missed the way things used to be, when spring arrived on schedule in March, and summer was in full bloom by the time the end of May rolled around. June was always hot when he was a kid, but the last several years in Utah had seen snow in the mountains and cold, wet weather in the Salt Lake valley until the middle of June.

  He hated it. Just one more frustrating thing in his life that he couldn’t control. The misery he’d carried with him all day squeezed him hard, and he opened his eyes and fought back: turning on the truck, cranking up the stereo, heading for the next stop in his packed Monday list of crap he had to do. Thinking about the past didn’t do him any good at all. Neither did the present, really, but at least if he stayed rooted in the here and now, living moment by moment, the knowledge that he was a failure didn’t swamp him completely.

  He sang with the rock song pounding through the speakers, distracting himself from the weight of his life. Because the awful truth nagging at the edges of his thoughts was that he’d reached the limit of what he could carry. One more thing dropped on top would push him under. He’d drown. If he didn’t acknowledge that fact, he’d make it through every day, no matter what hit him.

  Travis pulled into the driveway of the sprawling, French Country-style mansion sitting high on the Mount Olympus foothills. His client had spent a hell of a lot of money for a spectacular view lot, and Travis believed the man truly got what he paid for, with the primarily glass rear of the new house facing the valley. As he exited his truck, he noted the vehicles of the plumbing and electrical subcontractors parked on the drive. He crossed the path through the newly landscaped yard to the covered front porch.

  His parents would have preferred he live in a home like this, ideally near them in Federal Heights. But he’d never give up his little chalet in Midway. The mountain town gave him room to clear his head. Living there, even with the daily commute, kept him sane.

  Travis walked into the high-ceilinged, stone-paved foyer. Plastic sheeting covered the floor, protecting it from dirty workboots. Martin Delgado, the job supervisor, stood beyond the foyer in the open, airy sitting room, talking on his cell phone. Travis waved, and Delgado quickly ended his call.

  “Hiya, boss,” Delgado said, clipping his phone onto his belt.

  “Are we on schedule?”

  Delgado snorted. “Of course, man, you think I’d let you down?”

  Travis smiled. “Good, because I’m talking to Mr. Jasper five times a day, and if this place goes into overtime, I may strangle him before he ever gets the keys.”

  “I feel for you. It’s almost done. Rachel’s putting up the fixtures and plates and Harley is just about done with the finish plumbing.”

  “Okay. I’m going to have a look around so I can tell Jasper I was here in person, and everything’s fine.”

  Delgado laughed and reached for his phone when it beeped. “You do that, Travis. I’m glad I’m not you.”

  Yeah. Being me is even less fun that it looks. Travis went up the wide, lavishly milled, curving stairs, meaning to give the house a look from the top floor down. His intentions flew out the nearest window when he walked into the master suite and found himself staring up at the most perfectly curved rear-end he’d ever seen poured into faded denim. Sweetly rounded below a narrow waist, it was the sort of ass that women were forever trying to work off even though men begged for more.

  He refocused, shaking off the buzz of appreciation zipping straight to his groin, and forced himself to take in the whole picture. The woman stood too far up for safety on a six-foot ladder, facing the opposite wall. She twisted a light bulb into the pewter fixture on the coved ten-foot ceiling. His gaze wandered up to dark brown, wavy hair. Pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, the waves cascaded down the length of her red t-shirt, swaying at the top of her hips. He’d expected to find Rachel Garrett, his electrician. This tiny, curvy thing was definitely not Rachel.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  She didn’t respond. He stepped forward. “Are you here with Rachel?” He reached out and tapped the heel of her red tennis shoe. “Hello?”

  She jumped at his touch, turning toward him as she took a hasty step down.

  Her foot missed the ladder rung.

  Travis reacted instantly, catching her as she fell, stepping back so she didn’t hit the ladder.

  A surge of fire blew through his system on the heels of the adrenaline rush, the heat pulsing through his chest as he held her, as his mind identified where he ended and she began. One arm held her around her waist, the other wrapped across her legs below her hips. For a moment, she stayed where she’d landed, half over his right shoulder, then she straightened. That position brought her breasts to eye-level. Her t-shirt, caught between them, molded against her, making it damn near impossible for Travis to swallow.

  Heart pounding, Travis forced his gaze upward, meeting her dark brown eyes. The confusion in them threw ice water on his hormones. Small hands pressed against his shoulders and he loosened his hold on her, trying to ignore his physical interest as she slid down his frame to the floor.

  She backed away a step, her gaze on her feet, her cheeks dusted pink, and pulled earbuds from her ears. The music blared through them. Ah. She hadn’t heard him.

  “Hey, sorry I startled you,” he said. The rest of his wo
rds died in his throat when her gaze lifted and she smiled. A sweet, welcoming smile that lit up her entire self. It slid down inside him, stunning him and leaving a trail of light. No one he’d ever known had a smile like that.

  “It’s okay. Thanks for catching me before I hurt myself.” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder at the ladder. “Guess I should have taken the ‘do not stand on this step’ warning seriously, huh?” Her voice was low, with a slight whiskey-rasp.

  It was a punch to the gut after anticipating that she’d sound like a little girl to match her small size. She couldn’t be more than, what, five-two? A grin spread across his face, he couldn’t help it. “Pretty sure the warning is there for a reason. Are you here with Rachel?”

  “Yeah, I’m visiting her, and attempting to help, though I clearly have no clue what I’m doing.” She shrugged. Her smile faded and the part of Travis that had revived inside because of her smile died again, too. It stung. How could he fix that?

  “You were doing great, I messed you up.” He held out a hand. “I’m Travis Holt.”

  Her handshake was surprisingly firm. “Andri Miller.”

  “Andri? Interesting name.”

  “Short for Andromeda. I know, I know, my mother is Greek, so I come by it honestly,” she added hastily as his smile widened.

  “No, it’s a beautiful name.” The sweet blush colored her cheeks again and his stomach flip-flopped.

  Her gaze shifted to the right and she said, “You about got me killed, sending me up on a ladder like that.”

  Travis turned to see his electrician walk in. Rachel Garrett, dark red hair looped through a Dodgers cap, looked Andri over. “You appear unscathed.”

  Andri pointed at Travis. “Thanks to the hero.”

  A sharp jolt of pleasure hit him. He’d love to play the successful hero again, anytime. He bit down on the thought that her need for a hero was his fault. Always his fault, but he refused to let his failings shadow her words.

  Rachel stood beside him, tall enough to meet him eye to eye. “Yep, that’s Travis. He spends his copious spare time rescuing damsels in distress.” She nudged him with her shoulder, and that contact from his lifelong friend snapped him out of the magnetic pull emanating from Andri.

  Shaken by his reaction, he steeled himself and glanced at his watch. “Unfortunately, speaking of spare time, I have none. Rach, you’ll be finished today?”

  “Yes. Another half-hour maybe, and we’re out of here.”

  “Just what I wanted to hear, thank you.” He nodded at Andri. “Nice meeting you.”

  She smiled as she said goodbye, but he yanked his gaze away from her. That smile was kryptonite, best avoided since he couldn’t hope to fight the way she drew him without even trying.

  He did a high-speed check of the rest of the mansion, pausing only to confer briefly with Delgado. The plumber had already finished and gone. Inspection complete, he beat a hasty retreat to the truck.

  Andri. He’d known Rachel forever and never run into this friend of hers before. She’d said she was just visiting Rach, so chances were he’d probably never see her again. And while that realization pained him, it also relieved him.

  There were two kinds of women. Those who played, and those who didn’t. Andromeda Miller was decidedly one who didn’t. She sent off waves of home and hearth and ‘till death do us part’ vibes. Absolutely off-limits, and he knew precisely why—stability was the one thing he needed, the one thing he wanted. The one thing he didn’t deserve.

  It was also a hell of a catch-22. If she wasn’t what he thought, well, he’d paid the price for mistaking a player for a stayer before, with his ex. And if she really was what he read her to be, a good girl…damn, he couldn’t go there. He’d only end up failing her somehow, like he failed everyone else, and in the process, she’d learn to hate him. He knew if he ever saw that light in her eyes replaced with hatred, it would utterly destroy him.

  One more thing added to the pile. No. He simply wouldn’t allow himself to go there. Period. No matter how much he wanted to cling to the lifeline her smile had thrown him.

  ****

  Andri stared out the electrical van window as Rachel drove away from the mansion, the finish work complete. She twisted a lock of hair around her finger, not really watching the passing landscape. These quiet moments did nothing to help her escape the swirling soup of self-doubt threatening to swamp her lately. She hated feeling like this, lost, unsure. And now, oh, what those amazing blue eyes had done to her.

  “Hey,” Rachel said, her voice gentle. “I was willing to let you stew while we finished up back there, but we’re facing a twenty-five minute drive home, give or take, so now would be a good time to talk.”

  “Talk about what?” She’d shown up on Rachel’s doorstep in Park City late last night after a brutal twelve hour drive from Phoenix, and her sweet friend had been content to show her to the guest bedroom and let her crash. This morning, she’d woken up just in time to get cleaned up and hop in the van to hang out with Rachel as she worked. She hadn’t expected to end up helping her friend work. Which brought her thoughts firmly back to the ladder fiasco. Every nerve ending from head to toe sang at the feel of his hard muscled arms wrapped around her…

  Rachel sighed. “Come on, woman, how long have I known you?”

  “Ages.”

  “Yep. So talk to me. You’re all thoughtful over there. You’d better not be mooning over that cheating SOB you left in Arizona, or so help me—”

  Andri held up a hand, shaking her head. “No, absolutely not. I don’t waste my time thinking about Pete.”

  “Good. I seriously thought about hopping on a plane and giving him a piece of my mind in person when he did that to you. Still not sure how you never figured out he was seeing someone on the side, though.”

  Andri shrugged. “Easy. I’m stupid.”

  Rachel shot her a stern look. “No.”

  She sighed. “Oh no? He was seeing another guy, Rach. And I didn’t see it. I’m pretty sure that qualifies me as stupid.”

  “No. Naïve, maybe. He showed you an orthodox, traditional guy, and you believed in him.”

  “I thought he was being a gentleman. I mean, my mom introduced us, and she met him at church.” She’d been swept away by his refined manners, his kindness and thoughtful things he did for her. He knew so much, had so much culture, and he’d never touched her in lust. That should have been a red flag, but it was so refreshing and old school and romantic. To realize that the flowery poetry he’d written had been composed while thinking of his boyfriend just slammed her self-esteem into the dungeon and tossed away the key.

  She shrugged, tracing a finger absently along the window seal. “Maybe if I hadn’t been working such long hours, I would have put it all together sooner. I don’t know.”

  “I still think you should have outed him.”

  Andri shook her head. “There was no reason to be cruel to him. Honestly, I can’t imagine living in that kind of hell. He’s so ashamed, so afraid to be who he really is. He has to find a way to deal with that or be stuck in his own personal perdition forever. At least I could walk away.”

  Rachel took a long look at her. “I don’t know how you do that. You get hurt and you find a way to understand the guy’s motives and even feel sorry for him.”

  She slumped in her seat and blew out a breath. “Hating him for it won’t make me feel any better. You know, I was going to marry him under false pretenses of my own. I mean, he offered me so much, such stability. That’s what I wanted. I was so tired of being alone and having my mother constantly complaining that I was going to be single forever. I didn’t love him, not really. We both made bad choices.”

  And now she had to live with knowing that the only guy who’d ever wanted to marry her had been looking for a beard. Was she that undesirable that only a gay man would want her in his life? Even worse, she’d almost stayed. Almost let her need to nurture and rescue condemn her to living the rest of her life permanently lonely
in a sexless marriage.

  She shook off the dark twist of her thoughts and shifted in her seat to focus on Rachel, instantly her friend the day they met in the U. of U. dorms as freshmen. It didn’t matter that they’d lived in different states since college. Rach always had her back. She smiled. “Thanks for letting me visit you. I really needed a place to go, some time to clear my head.”

  “Well, I’m thrilled to have you. And, you know, Ian won’t care because he’s hardly ever home.”

  Andri nodded. Rachel’s pro skier brother had always seemed like a decent guy. Too bad she couldn’t have fallen in love with him, but there was no chemistry there at all in the few occasions she’d spent with him.

  Rachel glanced over her shoulder and changed lanes. “So, what did you think of Travis? Not exactly how I ever pictured you meeting him.” She laughed, a full, clear sound.

  “Yeah, falling into his arms. Probably the strangest way I’ve ever met someone.” She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the thrill that shivered down her spine at the feel of his strong arms around her, hot on the heels of the fright of falling. His solid shoulders beneath her hands, his body heat setting all her nerve endings on alert…

  “What did you think of him?”

  Andri pulled herself out of her thoughts. “Well, the photos spoke the truth.”

  Her friend muttered something about the idiot driving too slow in front of her, then said, “Yep. Decent eye candy, that man.”

  “Very true.” His image rose in her mind, standing beside Rachel back at the mansion, matching her five-ten height. Not huge, but still far taller than she was. When he’d caught her, time had slowed and she’d found herself staring at him. His short brown hair had sun streaks and tiny lines showed at the corners of his amazing dark blue eyes.

  What bothered her wasn’t how he looked. It was how he looked at her, at least for a moment there. His eyes had filled with surprise when he caught her. Of course, she’d only imagined the flicker of interest in his gaze before he set her back on her feet. But when she smiled at him, something shifted behind his gaze. The walls there dropped, just for a moment, giving her a glimpse of darkness swiftly eclipsed by his answering smile.