Precious - Roe Horvat Page 0,2

When his guest had slept off the worst of his exhaustion, Travis would figure out how to help him out of whatever mess he’d gotten into. And if he saw no improvement in the young man’s state, he’d call Dr. Jenkins in Birdsview, regardless of his guest’s protests.

“You don’t need me, Jared.” Travis kept his voice down so his phone call wouldn’t disturb his guest. He had spent the rest of the day working from the kitchen instead of his usual place in the armchair in the living room. His mind returned to the boy every other minute, making it impossible for him to focus. He had no patience for his younger brother today.

“I don’t,” Jared agreed briskly. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t prefer you being here. You took a break, and we all respected that, but it’s been eons, Travis.”

“I never called it a break. You did.”

“Well, it seemed obvious. You were about to marry Andrew and go on parental leave, where you were supposed to get bored and frustrated. Then you were supposed to return, eager to play with the adults again.”

Why did Jared bring up his failed engagement? The loss was still painful for Travis. Not the loss of the man; he didn’t regret losing Andrew. Travis had hoped that his withdrawal from public life and the front lines of the family business would bring them closer together. However, toward the end of their relationship, their incompatibility had become obvious. Travis still mourned his imagined family.

Jared had been young when he’d married Isaac and became a father, his parenthood a matter of course. They had three kids, and Jared often joked about envying Travis his freedom and uninterrupted sleep. They were happy, though. Travis could see it whenever they visited. His younger brother would never understand the heartbreak Travis had felt when, after six years together, Andrew had stated with a calm finality that he would never want children.

“I’m not coming back, Jared. I’m happy where I am.”

“You like coding because you can work remotely and play hermit for months on end.”

“That’s accurate.” Did Jared think the hermit comment would insult him?

Jared groaned into the phone. “I still want you on the scheduled board meeting. In person. The rest we can handle online. I don’t care. But you’ll be here next week, clean shoes and a tie. Promise me.”

“Oscar doesn’t think I have to be present.”

“You’ll be here. I don’t care if there’s another flood or if the bears invade Birdsview. You’re coming, even if you have to get down the mountain on a fucking raft.”

“We’ll see.”

“Travis, I’m saying this as your CEO, not your little brother.”

Travis chuckled. Jared and Oscar had been running the company for years. Jared had the social skills, the authority, and energy, and Oscar had the analytical, mathematical brain, keeping the numbers up. Travis suspected Jared only wanted him more involved so he’d get his older brother’s approval.

“Jared, I trust you. I do care about my family, and I do care about the business. I just genuinely think you can do it better than I would.”

Jared grunted, mollified by the praise.

“I’ll come to the board meeting. Satisfied?”

“Yes. Wear a tie. Or I swear I’ll sic Dad on you.”

“I love you too, dear brother.”

Chuckling, Travis hung up. He turned the sound off and slid his phone into his pocket.

He passed by the living room and looked inside. The young man had been asleep for six hours. Travis had gone to check on him a few times but always found him in the same position: curled on his side under the blanket, hands tucked under his head, dry lips parted. His skin felt warmer, his cheeks had gotten some color back, and his breathing was calm and steady. Guessing his guest would want to cover himself when he woke up, Travis got him some clean sweats and a T-shirt. Way too big, but they’d have to do. He laid the clothes on the armrest by the boy’s head and returned to the kitchen to his laptop.

It was about eight in the evening, and Travis was putting away glasses from the dishwasher while trying to stretch his sore neck. He’d spent too many hours huddled above the little screen reading reports and writing feedback notes. Luckily, tomorrow would be Saturday. No work, not even emails, Travis. You’ll go running and do your exercises, or your back is going to hate you again.

Should he wake his guest and feed him? A soft moan came from