Giving her pillow a fluff, she lay down and stared up at the ceiling fan her grandfather had helped her install as it spun slowly. It usually did the trick in lulling her to sleep. Tonight her head was too full. Her thoughts were scattered. Finland. The Arctic Circle. Northern lights. Ryan sure knew how to entice her. Faraway places with seasons and snow. Mother Nature’s brilliant light show. Texas did not have glass igloos. But Texas was her home. It had her grandparents. It had her dog and a job she was usually very good at. It also had Travis.
She laughed out loud as she flipped onto her side. She pulled the covers up under her chin. Was he a reason to stay or a reason to run away? She grabbed the other pillow and used it to cover her head. She’d told her parents she wasn’t taking the job, but maybe they were trying to send her a message. Maybe it wasn’t Richard who had messed with her graphics. Maybe it was divine intervention. Maybe it was a sign that television meteorology wasn’t for her.
Or maybe Abilene had more to offer her than she thought. Travis was the first guy who didn’t make a run for it every time she rambled on about the weather. He asked questions. He listened to her answers. Very few people humored her. Even fewer encouraged her to keep talking. Awkward silence was usually the only response to her weirdness. Travis didn’t make her feel weird. He almost made her feel normal.
Normal was something Summer hadn’t ever felt. Was that a sign? She tossed the pillow on the floor, restlessly flipping over to her other side. As normal as Travis made her feel, the man was a bigger unknown than the job Ryan was luring her into. Travis was dealing with a world of hurt, hurt that had nothing to do with his shoulder. He didn’t have to say it, he was one of those people who tried to hide his vulnerability but couldn’t stop his eyes from giving it away.
Summer rolled onto her stomach, smashing her face into her pillow. She hated not being able to predict the future. Not knowing meant things could go very wrong, like they had the night her parents died. She was such a hypocrite. She’d told Travis not to be trapped by fear, and that was exactly what was happening to her. Life needed to be worth living. If she stayed in Texas, she needed something more.
CHAPTER EIGHT
T HE NEWSROOM WAS a maze of desks filled with producers, assignment editors, reporters and anchors. People were always on the phone, on their computers or consulting with one another about a story. When Travis pushed away from his desk and spun his chair a quarter turn to the left, he could watch the Weather Girl do all those things. She was usually staring at her monitor, probably researching some random weather fact like the average snowfall in Idaho. Summer knew the strangest things.
Travis was on the phone with his mother, who decided she needed to see him and meet his coworker before the football game on Friday. “I don’t know, Mom. Can’t I just introduce you to her at the game?”
“I promised to help sell tickets for the booster club’s fifty/fifty raffle. I’ll be working. You two will be working. Can’t you both come over beforehand? I’m baking.” The woman drove a hard bargain.
Travis leaned back and looked left. As if she knew he was watching, Summer turned her head to meet his stare. He watched as the heat crept up her neck, the skin flushing red. Her fingers glided up her throat as if she was trying to contain the blush.
“I’ll ask her, but no promises.” He continued watching Summer until the right side of her mouth curved up in a shy, stop-looking-at-me-like-that smile. Those soft pink lips of hers were something. He knew they were soft. He had touched them.
Travis slid back toward his desk and rested his forehead on his fist while his mom told him all about what his aunt Kelly had to say about the road construction between Sweetwater and Abilene. He wished traffic was his only issue with
She laughed out loud as she flipped onto her side. She pulled the covers up under her chin. Was he a reason to stay or a reason to run away? She grabbed the other pillow and used it to cover her head. She’d told her parents she wasn’t taking the job, but maybe they were trying to send her a message. Maybe it wasn’t Richard who had messed with her graphics. Maybe it was divine intervention. Maybe it was a sign that television meteorology wasn’t for her.
Or maybe Abilene had more to offer her than she thought. Travis was the first guy who didn’t make a run for it every time she rambled on about the weather. He asked questions. He listened to her answers. Very few people humored her. Even fewer encouraged her to keep talking. Awkward silence was usually the only response to her weirdness. Travis didn’t make her feel weird. He almost made her feel normal.
Normal was something Summer hadn’t ever felt. Was that a sign? She tossed the pillow on the floor, restlessly flipping over to her other side. As normal as Travis made her feel, the man was a bigger unknown than the job Ryan was luring her into. Travis was dealing with a world of hurt, hurt that had nothing to do with his shoulder. He didn’t have to say it, he was one of those people who tried to hide his vulnerability but couldn’t stop his eyes from giving it away.
Summer rolled onto her stomach, smashing her face into her pillow. She hated not being able to predict the future. Not knowing meant things could go very wrong, like they had the night her parents died. She was such a hypocrite. She’d told Travis not to be trapped by fear, and that was exactly what was happening to her. Life needed to be worth living. If she stayed in Texas, she needed something more.
CHAPTER EIGHT
T HE NEWSROOM WAS a maze of desks filled with producers, assignment editors, reporters and anchors. People were always on the phone, on their computers or consulting with one another about a story. When Travis pushed away from his desk and spun his chair a quarter turn to the left, he could watch the Weather Girl do all those things. She was usually staring at her monitor, probably researching some random weather fact like the average snowfall in Idaho. Summer knew the strangest things.
Travis was on the phone with his mother, who decided she needed to see him and meet his coworker before the football game on Friday. “I don’t know, Mom. Can’t I just introduce you to her at the game?”
“I promised to help sell tickets for the booster club’s fifty/fifty raffle. I’ll be working. You two will be working. Can’t you both come over beforehand? I’m baking.” The woman drove a hard bargain.
Travis leaned back and looked left. As if she knew he was watching, Summer turned her head to meet his stare. He watched as the heat crept up her neck, the skin flushing red. Her fingers glided up her throat as if she was trying to contain the blush.
“I’ll ask her, but no promises.” He continued watching Summer until the right side of her mouth curved up in a shy, stop-looking-at-me-like-that smile. Those soft pink lips of hers were something. He knew they were soft. He had touched them.
Travis slid back toward his desk and rested his forehead on his fist while his mom told him all about what his aunt Kelly had to say about the road construction between Sweetwater and Abilene. He wished traffic was his only issue with
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