Country Music Cowboy

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Country Music Cowboy Page 18

by Sasha Summers


  “Hold on. I’d be a fool to think you were reliant on me.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over her face. “You staying here was practical for business.” He shook his head. “I’m sleeping with you because I want you. I hear you and I’ll play by whatever rules you set. Okay?”

  She nodded, wishing she was hardwired to be defensive. Wishing she could enjoy this—enjoy Travis—without worrying about the consequences or expecting the worst.

  His hand cradled her face, the caress of his thumb along her jawline sending a tremor down her spine. “Now, I’m lying here, puzzling over the best way to show you how bad I want you, because it seems to me, you need some convincing.”

  And just like that, she was back to aching for him. She didn’t want to think—she only wanted to feel. Whatever happened tomorrow, she’d deal with it then. But, right now, this was what she needed.

  Travis made good on his word. He loved her—face-to-face—until they were both out of their mind and breathless. She was gasping, clinging, but he wouldn’t go easy on her. She was the focus of his strength and power and endurance, and she welcomed him with open arms. He only let go after she’d exploded into a million tiny pieces of pure pleasure.

  “Sleep,” he murmured against her neck, pulling her into the circle of his arms.

  She didn’t. She couldn’t. This was between her and Travis. And since this time was the last time, she’d prefer the rest of the household not discover her sneaking from his room. Especially not today—the day of his sister’s wedding.

  But she’d just stepped outside of Travis’s door when Sawyer said, “Morning.”

  She jumped, dropped her shoes, and came close to hyperventilating.

  “Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry. He looked like he was trying not to smile. “He awake?”

  They both knew exactly who he was talking about so she answered truthfully. “No. Will I make it to my room undetected?”

  He nodded.

  She picked up her shoes and tiptoed, as quickly as she could, down the other hallway to her room. A quick shower later and she fell face-first into the bed. If she was going to Emmy Lou’s wedding, she’d need a nap.

  Loretta woke up three hours later. Emmy Lou had given her a rundown of the day’s events so she knew it was going to be a three-ring circus. And it was, but Emmy Lou’s wedding planner seemed to have everything under control.

  It wasn’t surprising that Emmy Lou’s wedding had a fairy-tale theme. The wedding was in one of the historic Painted Churches in the Texas Hill Country. Until today, Loretta had never heard of them. But once she’d stepped foot inside, she was struck by the beauty and intricacy of the walls, arches, and ceiling of the building.

  If the architecture and artwork weren’t enough, there was the abundance of flowers. The church smelled like a flower shop. Gardenias and peonies and sweet peas an explosion of color and scent—plus hundreds of candles placed throughout.

  Just like a fairy tale. Loretta couldn’t help but smile.

  The whole day was like a fairy tale.

  Emmy Lou arrived on the arm of a very proud father. From her tulle and lace and crystal-encrusted dress to the mile-long train and gossamer veil, the whimsical fantasy element was complete. But the whole spectacle didn’t outshine Emmy Lou’s joy. She was so happy it was impossible not to be happy for her. And when her mountain of a professional football player fiancé got a little teary-eyed while she recited her vows, Loretta did too.

  That was about the time Travis saw her. But his smile wasn’t teasing—it was heartfelt. After all, this was his little sister getting married. He’d want the man marrying his sister to get choked up, wouldn’t he? Travis would want to know that the man marrying his sister understood how blessed and lucky he was to have Emmy Lou as his wife.

  Brock did.

  And while the string quartet and unity candle and butterfly release were lovely, Loretta couldn’t stop her attention from wandering back to Travis. Him, in his tuxedo, should be illegal. Didn’t he know that a wedding was all about the happy couple? Especially the bride. While no one could outshine Emmy Lou, Loretta was pretty confident Brock came in second in the Most Handsome Man in the room category.

  Or I’m biased because… Because, why? Because she’d seen him naked? Because she’d been sucked in by his charm? Or because she was developing a huge soft spot for the man she’d sworn to keep at arm’s distance. I need to work on my self-discipline. When it came to Travis, she had none.

  The ceremony was traditional and quick. While the bride and groom were subjected to endless photographs, she and the rest of the guests were shuttled from the church to the reception site. The Gardens was just that, a botanical garden abloom with native and imported colors alike. But, in keeping with the fairy-tale theme, the wedding planner had added more.

  The small stream that ran through the gardens had floating floral arrangements. Some were simply flowers. Others had tulle and beaded designs. The large oak trees, hundreds of flower pomanders hung in every ethereal and pastel shade available. From large to small, the pomanders and silk ribbons swayed in the spring breeze.

  Loretta had never mastered being comfortable in crowds—not that she let on. Johnny had told her confidence was more a state of mind. If she acted confident, even if she didn’t feel that way, she’d eventually feel confident. So far, that hadn’t been the case. But she kept trying.

  When the King family arrived, the cocktail hour under the trees moved inside the massive white tent for dinner and dancing.

  “Loretta?” Jace Black waved her down, a young woman at his side. “This is my little sister, Heather.”

  “Ohmygawd, you’re Loretta Gram.” Heather had that high-pitched excited fan quality that made Loretta smile. “Hi.” She reined it in. “Nice to meet you.” She sounded more in control now. “I’ll try not to fangirl too hard but no promises.” She nudged Jace. “I mean, of course you know Loretta Gram.” She shook her head. “Is there anyone you don’t know, at this point?”

  Jace pretended to think, then shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  Heather laughed. “You’re so full of it.”

  “Heather.” Hank King wrapped Heather in a hug. “How’s college? Almost done, aren’t you?”

  It was like a mini family reunion. Travis scooped her up and spun her around, Heather “oohed” over Krystal’s black stripe in her hair, and Jace listed off of Heather’s current academic successes. Loretta smiled when Hank took her arm, instantly including her.

  She and Hank headed toward their table, trailing behind the others, when CiCi approached.

  “Look at you two.” She was all smiles, leaning in to give Hank a kiss on the cheek, then Loretta. “Loretta, you look lovely. All sweet and young. But not too young, I guess? Isn’t that right, Hank.” Her large blue eyes bounced between the two of them.

  Her implication wasn’t the least bit subtle. But, she couldn’t be serious, could she? Travis was always teasing—so was Krystal. Maybe they’d picked up the habit from CiCi?

  The idea of her and Hank… Well, it was tabloid fodder. A joke. Hank was a gentleman—a married gentleman. While CiCi had no problem behaving as if she and Hank were no longer married, Hank would never disgrace himself or his family that way. If she knew that, surely CiCi did too?

  Hank’s voice sounded weak. “CiCi—”

  “No, no. You don’t owe me any explanation.” CiCi sighed. “I guess the no date rule only applied to Kegan and me. But that makes sense, I suppose, since Loretta is already living with you.”

  Loretta didn’t blame Hank for the clenched jaw or the tightening of his mouth. She was having a hard time biting back her temper—but she’d never cause a scene.

  “Silly old me thought you were after Travis.” CiCi turned the full force of her glare on Loretta. “Boy, did I underestimate you.”

  After Travis? Like she’d devised so
me intricate plan to catch one of the Kings? Why? Because she needed the Kings to keep her career? Hadn’t she said as much to Travis last night? He’d been quick to dismiss her fears but with CiCi throwing them in her face, Loretta’s deep-seated insecurity clashed with her anger.

  Hank cleared his throat. “Enjoy yourself,” he managed, but the words were raspy. Hank steered Loretta around CiCi and toward their table.

  “I’m sorry,” Loretta whispered. “If I thought coming here would cause problems—”

  “Don’t worry.” He coughed. “CiCi’s being…CiCi.” Hank shook his head, taking a glass from a passing waiter. He downed it and said, “I see the way my son’s looking at you. You should be here.” Hank patted her arm, clearing his throat. “That look, right there.” His chuckle ended on a cough.

  Travis was looking at her. And it was some look. The sort of look that threatened the walls she’d spent years building around her heart. The sort of look that made her wish she could let down her guard and let Travis in. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t do that to him.

  ***

  Travis was going out of his mind. Every night for the last week, he’d followed where Loretta led. When he said he’d let her set the rules, he meant it. After Emmy Lou’s wedding, he’d driven her home and taken her to bed. The following day, they’d rehearsed and eaten donuts and as soon as the house was asleep—she’d turned up outside his bedroom door. Six nights of getting more caught up in Loretta and wishing there were no rules between them.

  “Good morning, Romeo.” Krystal greeted him as soon as he pushed through the kitchen door.

  Their father sat in his chair at the kitchen table, coffee in hand, laughing.

  Romeo? Did she know something? Or was she fishing for information? “Good morning?” Travis said, doing his best not to overreact. He ran his fingers through his hair and did a somewhat covert sweep of the room. No Loretta. Not yet.

  “Good morning,” Jace said, waving his fork. “Radio thing this morning. She’s been laughing about it all morning.”

  “You laughed too.” Krystal smiled, her green eyes a little too curious. “I made some scrambled eggs and bacon and pancakes.”

  “And blueberry muffins,” Jace added, shooting Travis a look. “And cinnamon rolls.”

  “You’re welcome.” Krystal was chewing on the inside of her lip. Never a good sign. “You look a little worn out, big brother.”

  He tried not to squirm as Jace and his father turned to see for themselves.

  “I’m fine.” Travis headed to the stovetop where the food was staying warm. “Thank you.” He grabbed a plate and served himself a large breakfast before heading to the table. “This is a hell lot of food.”

  “I was restless.” She shrugged. “And, I’ve got a song bouncing around and there’s nothing like cooking to help—”

  “You finish it.” Travis nodded. Ever since he could remember, Krystal cooking meant a new song was coming. And since she was pulling together ingredients for who-knows-what, she hadn’t quite worked the song out yet. “What are we making now?”

  “Cherry pie,” Krystal said, without looking up. “Sawyer’s favorite.”

  He exchanged a look with Jace, then sighed. “I was going to stop you but…cherry pie sounds really good.”

  Krystal was smiling again. “How did I know you were going to say that?” She glanced his way then. “You and Sawyer aren’t working out together anymore?”

  The bite of pancakes got stuck in his throat.

  “He was out running when we got here.” Krystal started measuring out flour and dumping it into her favorite ceramic bowl. “Alone.”

  Travis took a sip of coffee, careful to avoid making eye contact. “Not every day maybe, but most days.” His nights with Loretta guaranteed one hell of a workout—but he’d keep that to himself. He sat back in his chair. “What’s with the Romeo thing?”

  “Nonsense is what it is.” His father took a sip of his coffee.

  Travis grinned.

  “Daddy, if Emmy Lou were here, she’d tell you to hush and rest your voice.” Krystal sighed. “But since she and Brock won’t be back until tomorrow, it’s up to me to keep you quiet.” She crossed the room, topped off his coffee, and put a plate with a warm, gooey cinnamon roll down on the table. “Here.” She kissed their father’s cheek then stood, hand on hips, smiling from ear to ear. “It’s all sorts of juicy. You and Daddy fighting over Loretta. Good stuff.”

  Travis glanced at his father. His father shook his head, happily devouring the cinnamon roll.

  “Who’s winning?” Travis asked.

  That earned a chuckle from his father, who pointed at himself with his fork.

  “You think so?” Travis asked. “Guess I need to up my game.”

  “You do. Daddy’s has the edge.” Krystal nodded. “Did you know Loretta and Daddy were on a date at the IMAs?” She shrugged. “Yeah, me neither. They mentioned Schmitt’s Store too—Mr. Schmitt will be so pissed off. Anyway, that was your date, Trav. Drinking and dancing—”

  “And fried pickles,” Jace added. “Even if Brock did eat most of them.”

  “I’m guessing the fact that you all were there didn’t come up?” Travis asked.

  “Um, no. Why would it?” She started cutting the shortening into the flour, shaking her head. “They even put together a series of lovely blurry images from Emmy’s wedding that showed you were so distraught by the love triangle that you were drinking again.”

  Travis sighed. “Did I look like I was having fun?”

  Krystal shrugged. “Like I said, they were super blurry.”

  “Remember when you were trying not to step on Emmy Lou’s hundred-thousand-dollar wedding dress and fell into a chair?” Jace asked. “Apparently, you were fall-down drunk.”

  “Aw, well, there you go.” Travis nodded. “Wait, you said blurry pictures. I thought this was on the radio.”

  “It was.” Jace was up, grabbing more food. “TMN ran a piece last night. This was a recap.”

  “Want another one?” Travis asked his father, carrying both plates back to the countertop for seconds. “It’s not the worst thing that’s ever been said about me. I mean, it’s pretty basic soap-opera type shit, but it’s laughable.”

  Krystal decided to find the video of the original interview. She had the television on and was typing in TMN when the kitchen door opened and Sawyer came in, holding the door wide for Loretta.

  She looked so damn pretty, it was a struggle not to say so. Or to smile or wink or acknowledge the fact that, last night, he’d had her screaming into her pillow. The memory had an immediate impact on the comfort of his jeans.

  “Good morning,” Jace said.

  “Perfect timing.” Krystal smiled. “Get some food, please. I made too much and I’ll feel bad if it goes to waste.”

  “You’ve been busy.” Loretta stared at the mountain of food. “Is company coming?”

  “Just you two.” Travis said, noting the way her cheeks flushed when her topaz gaze met his. “I hope you have an appetite.”

  Sawyer shot him a look, sighed, and headed for the food. “Since you’ve slept through workouts this week, you might want to cut back.”

  Loretta’s cheeks went from pink to red, her gaze falling from his.

  Damn Sawyer anyway.

  “Here it is.” Krystal stopped, setting the remote on the counter, and returning to her pie-making with one eye on the television. “I’ll turn up the volume when it gets to the good stuff.”

  “Here is… Oh.” Loretta stopped in front of the food and stared at the television. “Has something happened?”

  “No.” Krystal shook her head. “But they’re acting like it has.”

  But Loretta didn’t move or get her breakfast. A photo of her and his father the night of the IMAs popped up. He’d almost forgotten how incredible she’d
looked in that dress.

  “I think we’re up,” their father said, earning a round of shhs from everyone in the room.

  TNM reporter Delia Youngblood’s delivery was almost as over-the-top as her makeup. “The night made an impression on all of us. Not only were we the first to bring you the latest development on the Gram-King love triangle—”

  Travis and his father both snorted, causing Krystal to laugh while waving at them for silence.

  “But, later this week, we will have an exclusive interview with the man who knows Loretta Gram best.” Delia Youngblood turned to her coanchor. “I’m excited to see what insight he’ll have.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” coanchor Caleb Steward said.

  A photo of a man wearing a LoveJoy shirt, holding up a LoveJoy album, popped up on-screen. He was tall and thin, handsome in a slightly used-car-salesman sort of way. But the man on-screen wasn’t what caught his eye. It was Loretta. She was holding the plate against her chest. From where he sat, she could tell her breathing was rapid and uneven.

  “Who is that, Loretta? Do you know him?” Jace asked before he could.

  But her answer confirmed his suspicions.

  “That’s my father.” Loretta’s voice was flat.

  “Up until now, Mr. Donnie Gram has remained silent on his daughter’s association with the Kings or how she’s been dealing with the tragic loss of her long-time singing partner, Johnny Hawkins.” Caleb Steward paused. “Why do you think he’s decided to come forward now, Delia?”

  “He said he has some concerns about his daughter. Apparently, he’s made several unsuccessful attempts to reach out to her.” Delia’s pretense at concern completely missed the mark. “He seems to think he might have more luck reaching out this way, publicly.”

  “I see.” But the look on Caleb’s face said everything Travis was thinking.

  Pretty much: What the fuck? Who went on a notoriously inaccurate reality news program to reach out to their daughter?

 

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