see the weariness in her shoulders. Again, something softened inside him, something that wanted to feel instead of shut down.
He tossed the towel on the table and sat down across from her. "All the prep is done for tomorrow."
"I know. I saw." She studied him, her gaze thoughtful. "Thank you."
"No problem." Something about the way she was looking at him made him tense, as if she saw things that he kept hidden. "So, good night at the till?" He scooped up a sizeable helping of blueberry pie and ice cream.
She nodded. "I saw your poster at the fair today."
He froze, the spoon halfway to his mouth. "What?"
She kept looking at him, searching his face. "Why is Travis Turner working in my kitchen?"
Fuck. He put down the spoon. "Travis Turner is a façade," he said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Is that what you saw when you walked back there tonight? Travis Turner, superstar, at your grill?"
She touched the back of his hand gently, just barely, but it stopped him dead. "No." Her voice was soft. "What I saw was a man who had come to rescue me. I saw hope that tonight wasn't going to be lost." She sighed. "Honestly, Travis, I felt so stupid at the fair today when I found out you were Travis Turner, but when I walked in there tonight, it didn't matter. It was just you."
He ducked his head at the sudden tightness in his chest. What the hell was it with her? Why did she make him feel? Why did she make him want to sneak in her back door and chop cucumbers for her?
"But you are Travis Turner," she continued, still touching the back of his hand. "It doesn't make sense for you to be in my kitchen." Her voice broke. "Until last night, I hadn't kissed a man in a very, very long time. It meant something to me, but I felt like a naïve fool when I found out you were a celebrity who probably has a dozen women in every city."
"A dozen women?" Bile rose in his throat, and suddenly, he didn't want the pie anymore. He tossed the spoon back on his plate, the dessert uneaten. "Is that what you think?" He was so tired of people who judged him based on his music, his bank account, and his celebrity. Lissa had been a respite last night, and to think she was like the others, judging him based on his public persona, stripped all the magic from the night, from the moment, from the memories. "Forget it."
He shoved back his chair to leave, then noticed the stricken expression on her face. The hurt. The betrayal. Guilt rushed through him, and he sank back into his seat. "I didn't plan on lying to you about who I was. I'm sorry."
She searched his face, as if she could find truth in his eyes, not his words. "Tell me why you were here last night. Tell me why you came back tonight. I need to know the truth. Was it to amuse yourself? To slum with the working class? To hide from an ex-girlfriend? To—" She cut herself off, waiting.
He swore under his breath. He didn't want to answer. He didn't want to tell her the truth. It was too personal. Too brutal. Too...everything. But at the same time, he couldn't bear the look of betrayal in her eyes. He knew about betrayal, and it cut deep and mercilessly, the wounds going deeper with every day that passed.
He knew that Lissa had given him her real self. She was strong, courageous, and somehow, he'd made her vulnerable.
After taking away her shields, he owed her the truth...or at least some of it. "I needed to escape."
"Escape what?" Their pies sat uneaten, the ice cream starting to melt.
"I—" Shit. He ran his hand through his hair. "When I walked in last night, I was going to get takeout and sleep in my truck. I couldn't deal with facing anyone, either as Travis Stockton or Travis Turner. But then...you smiled at me. That one smile, so full of warmth and exhaustion." He picked up his spoon, turning it over in his hands restlessly. "You made me forget my problems. All I wanted was to fix yours." He looked at her. "Last night was an oasis for me, Lissa. I had a rough time today, and the