Special Forces Father - By Mallory Kane Page 0,23

to a mailbox on the outside of the building. “The key’s inside the mailbox. Go to the fourth floor. It’s the only door. Wait for me inside.”

Travis drove to the address Dawson had given him and followed his instructions. He agreed with Dawson’s assertion that apartment was not the right word for the large room that appeared to take up the entire top floor of the building. It had a bathroom and an alcove with a double bed that was separated from the rest of the room by a heavy curtain, and it was air-conditioned. The kitchen, however, consisted of nothing but a microwave and a mini-fridge on a countertop.

Travis turned on the AC and pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge. He sat down in a chair to wait for Dawson.

He’d barely finished the water when Kate’s phone rang. The sound startled him and he dropped the plastic bottle. He cursed his damn jumpiness as he checked the display. The number was her office phone. He could picture her, fuming, ready to rip into him for sneaking her cell phone out of her purse. He hesitated, looking at the display, his finger hovering over the answer button. Then he shook his head. He didn’t want to talk to her yet, and certainly not over the phone.

She’d probably get back to her house before he did, and find him gone. If she was fuming now, he didn’t want to think about what she’d be like when he walked in tonight. He closed the phone. She’d have to wait. He needed to get Dawson on the trail of whoever had taken Max. That was the most important thing. He’d face her later. Hopefully he could show some results that would prove that he’d done the right thing in contacting Dawson. At the same instant that Kate’s call went to voice mail, he heard footsteps on the stairs. There was a double rap on the door.

“Trav?” Dawson’s voice came through the door. Then he heard a key turn in the lock and Dawson burst in, carrying a paper bag that he set on the bookcase just inside the door.

Travis couldn’t help but grin when he saw his cousin. “Dawson,” he said and stepped forward. The two men performed the basic man-hug—quick hand clasp and touch of shoulders, lightning-speed pat on back, then return to their corners. Dawson held on to Travis’s hand for one extra split second, though, and assessed him. “You don’t look so good, partner,” he said, frowning. “What’s the deal? Everything okay with you?”

Outside a car backfired. Travis jumped, then muttered a curse.

Dawson’s assessing eyes narrowed. “Tell me what’s up.”

Travis gave his head a shake and his mouth quirked up in a smile. “How much time have you got?” he asked wryly.

“Actually, I’ve got all day. Dad and I had just finished moving the furniture when you called. I was going to run by and see Ryker, but hell, I see him and Reilly all the time. I haven’t seen you in what? Three or four years?”

Travis nodded. “Yeah. And it sounds like a lot has happened while I’ve been gone. Apparently you found a ball and chain.”

Dawson laughed, but Travis saw pride and contentment soften his face. It was an expression he’d never seen on his cousin’s face—ever.

“Right,” Dawson said. “What we need to be talking about right now is what’s up with you. Let’s sit down.” He went over to the bookcase and retrieved the paper bag and brought it to the big oak table that sat near the windows. They each took a wooden hard-backed chair. Dawson pushed the paper bag toward Travis. “You still like café au lait?”

“Oh, man, thanks,” Travis said, reaching inside the bag and pulling out a hot cup. He lifted the lid. “Sugar?” he asked.

Dawson got up and retrieved a mason jar half-full of sugar and a spoon from the counter where the microwave sat. “Juliana likes a lot of sugar, too.”

Travis spooned sugar into the caramel-colored drink, stirred it vigorously, then took a long swig. “Mmm. There’s nothing like real Louisiana chicory coffee.”

Dawson took the other cup and sipped it. He didn’t say anything else, just waited.

“What do y’all use this place for?” he asked.

Dawson shrugged. “A hideaway if we need to protect someone. We stay here if we have to be in New Orleans overnight. It’s handy for lots of things. Jules wants to fix it up.” Dawson shrugged and smiled.

Travis sent him an assessing look. Dawson

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