Almost Mine Read Online Free Page A

while others grabbed their own partners and took advantage of an opportunity for some public cuddling. And then everyone else on the dance floor simply faded into the background. I couldn’t take my eyes, or thoughts, off of Travis.
    The years peeled away, with Travis singing into my ear in his lovely tenor. Our love had been so genuine, so pure. How could we have misplaced it?
    Gone was the woodsy scent of the cologne he’d once worn, but he still fit so perfectly in my arms. Well-practiced steps kept the time only two familiar dancers managed. I stepped back, his foot took the place of mine—I swayed forward into the spot he’d just vacated, and we’d come together in the middle, an eerie reminder of how well our lives had once synchronized.
    What had gone wrong? Hmm… when was the last time we’d been here? Five years ago? Six? Oh my God! As much as we’d loved dining out and dancing, it’d been years since we’d darkened the door. How did that happen? Racking my brain didn’t produce a single defining moment when we’d stopped going out. Had I grown boring? Complacent? Dampened the fire Travis needed to keep his creative spirit alive?
    The song ended and Travis stepped away, leaving me strangely bereft. I recovered as best I could. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”
    We sipped wine while resting at our table, then a smile, wink, or grin had us charging for the dance floor again. Damn, but the man had always brought out the best in me. We fit together so perfectly. Why for only one night? What did I do to make him leave me? Was he reeling me in, only to break my heart all over again?
    I’d give all I owned to turn back time, go home to our house, our bed, our old life.
    I laughed, I danced, I drank, and all with the same enchanting partner I’d met at Pride over twenty years ago. And like that night, we found ourselves at his door, ready to fall through and onto each other, only his carpet then hadn’t been this ghastly brown grunge. The price of his new suit would likely pay a full month’s rent—and then some. If I accomplished nothing else with this visit, I hoped to convince him, help him, to find a better place to live.
    Travis rammed his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, eyeing his shoelaces. “I want to thank you for tonight.” Why the sudden shyness? He’d never been shy before. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I understand.”
    Oh. So all he’d wanted was a night on the town. Nothing more. Time to test the waters. “I promised the night. Unless you’ve changed your mind.” Leaving might mean “for good.” I wasn’t ready to leave.
    He met my gaze then, those beautiful green eyes filled with hope. “You really want to stay?”
    A seemingly happy man left a life of luxury and relative leisure to exist in a hovel and barely get by. I needed to know why, and I wouldn’t get any answers by leaving. “I want to.”
    The gratitude on his face chased back my uncertainty. His earlier, pre-evening mood returned, robbing him of newly revealed youthful vigor. If I stared hard enough, surely I’d see the weight of the world pressing down on his slender shoulders.
    He appeared so unsure of himself, so vulnerable, when he peeled off his suit jacket and draped it across the back of a chair. His shirt joined the jacket. Once more I noticed his pitiful thinness.
    The sight of his body brought home the wrongness of the moment. The man wasn’t healthy. Instead of inviting my lust, his skinny torso invoked pity. When his pants joined his jacket on the chair, no beginning arousal tented his boxers. “You’re overdressed, aren’t you?” he asked.
    I couldn’t go through with this. Hold him, coddle him, nurse him back to health? Yes. Have a “one more time for old time’s sake” romp? No.
    As if reading my mind, Travis assured me, “I only want the time with you—I haven’t asked for anything else.” The side of his mouth hitched up in a mocking