Country Music Cowboy

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Country Music Cowboy Page 22

by Sasha Summers


  “I’m assuming we’re talking about that thing you don’t like talking about. The ‘f’ word. Feelings.” Margot was on the verge of laughter. “And how does he feel about you?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Margot.” She pushed at the bubbles, sending water over the edge and onto the floor. “It’s not that simple, and you know it.”

  “No, I don’t know it.” Margot sighed. “Why isn’t it simple?”

  She wanted to tell Margot everything. About CiCi. About being threatened… Even her suspicions about Sawyer. “Because I don’t do feelings.”

  “Lori-girl.” Margot sighed again. “You need to take a good long look in the mirror and see why that is. I know your mother’s let you down. I know your father’s a shit. And, you know I loved him, but Johnny let you down too. Hell, even I’ve let you down getting sick when you needed me—”

  “Stop it. You have never let me down.” Never. And I’ll never let you down.

  “It’s not you, Loretta, is what I’m getting at. You hear me? You’ve been dealt a crap hand until now. Now…well, I think you’ve got all the cards you need to play through.”

  “You know I don’t play cards.” But Loretta was laughing.

  “I don’t either. I doubt what I said made a lick of sense.” She giggled. “But you know what I’m getting at.”

  “I think so.” She knew exactly what Margot was getting at. She didn’t do feelings because she didn’t want to be disappointed or hurt again. Or hurt someone else. According to her father, she was very good at both. “How are you feeling?”

  Loretta hung up sometime later. Margot was doing well—at least that’s what she’d told Loretta. There were times Loretta worried Margot was keeping things from her. Just like what I’m doing to protect her. The difference was Loretta was trying to preserve her peace of mind. If Margot was keeping secrets… Well, Loretta didn’t want to think about that.

  The water was cold and the bubbles were mostly gone by the time she pulled herself out of the massive garden tub. She rinsed off the bubbles, reached for the room service menu, and flopped onto the bed in her favorite pink fluffy robe.

  Her phone started ringing.

  Unknown caller.

  She pressed ignore and hopped up when room service knocked on the door.

  “Sawyer?” She frowned. “What are you doing here?”

  He handed her a manila envelope. “Travis wanted you to take a look at this.”

  “He sent you?” She took the envelope and opened it. The first words…

  “Sawyer.” She didn’t make it very far. With a shake of her head, she shoved the pages back into the envelope. “Give it back to him.” Her eyes were stinging. Do not cry.

  “I think he wanted you to keep it.” His voice was gruff.

  Her eyes were burning now. “I can’t.” Her voice wavered and she sniffed. “Just, here.” She shoved it at him and slammed the door in his face.

  But Travis’s words were still there. The lyrics their own sort of melody.

  One night is what you offered,

  I said yes, of course.

  But let’s make that forever, just me loving you.

  Rules are meant to be broken.

  I’ll break them all for you.

  It was a song. Just a song.

  She headed back to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Why had she reacted that way? It wasn’t the first time bits of real life had spilled over into music. But the forever part? The love? That was pure fiction. Part of the song.

  She wiped the tear from her cheek and shook her head. This is why I don’t do feelings. Once they started, she didn’t know how to stop them. It was that lack of control part that made her fight so damn hard not to feel.

  Her phone beeped. One missed call and voicemail.

  She dialed her voicemail.

  “Loretta, it’s your father.” He broke off, his voice thick and slurred. “I’m here. Came all this way to see your show, a proud papa. I came to see you… Where are you? Am I talking to your damn cell phone? After all I’ve done to get you here and you can’t even take a phone call from your daddy?” He sighed. “I need you to come get me, Loretta. I need you now, you hear me? Where am I?” There was another voice, deep and gruff. “I’m at the South Salt Lake City Police Department. South. You hear? You come and bail me out. If you don’t, I guess I’ll have to call that lady back at TNM—let her know you’re letting me sit here in a jail cell all night.”

  Loretta hung up, threw her phone onto the bed, and pulled on some clothes. He was here? After years of phone calls and canceled plans, he was here. If he had an ulterior motive, she’d deal with it later. For now, she’d pretend that he’d come just to see her and her show.

  The burning was back—and a solid lump blocking her throat.

  She grabbed her purse and hurried out of her room to the elevators.

  “Loretta?” It was Sawyer.

  “Sawyer.” She sniffed. Damn tears.

  “Is everything okay?” His voice was low and soft.

  She nodded.

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  She nodded, wiping a tear away.

  “Do you need a ride?” He was studying her.

  A ride? She’d have to get a taxi.

  “I’m off the clock.” He cleared his throat. “You seem upset, Loretta.” He reached out and placed his hand on her arm. “I can help.”

  “Yes, Sawyer. Thank you.” She nodded, breathing a little easier. “I need a ride.”

  He nodded, guiding her onto the elevator and pressing the button without another word. He led her through the back hallways and kitchen, then out through the service exit to the vehicles he and the security team had waiting.

  “Backseat,” he said, holding the door open. “Just in case there are cameras waiting.”

  “Right.” She let go of the front passenger door handle. “Of course.” She climbed into the car.

  “Where are we going?” he asked, pulling out of the parking garage and onto the relatively busy streets of downtown Salt Lake City.

  “The South Salt Lake City Police Department.” She met his gaze in the rearview mirror. “My father’s been arrested.”

  ***

  Travis held the manila envelope in his hands, hoping Loretta would stop long enough for them to set things straight. Sawyer said she’d seemed extra emotional when she’d given back the song. Travis hoped that was a good thing.

  But that was before. Now his mind was scrambling to make sense of what he’d just seen. Sawyer and Loretta. Leaving together.

  Then he was back to the night everything changed. The night he’d walked into Loretta’s dressing room and found Sawyer, crouching by Loretta’s chair. Worse, Sawyer’s expression. Concern. Sawyer rarely emoted… Like it or not, that meant something.

  Could something be going on between them? He reached into his pocket, turning the guitar pick over and over.

  Bullshit. Sawyer wasn’t interested in Loretta. Even if he was, he wouldn’t go after her because he knew how Travis felt about her.

  Loretta was a different story. She was fighting it, but she still wanted him. When they were singing onstage, hell—sitting across the room from each other, the air was alive and electric between them.

  But wanting him didn’t mean she couldn’t want someone else too. She’d made this clear from the get-go that this was about sex. They’d never talked about being exclusive, either. Technically, she didn’t owe him a thing—including monogamy. There could be someone else. Someone like Sawyer.

  His lungs compressed so hard and fast his chest hurt. Sure, he’d let himself believe it was more because that’s what he wanted to believe. The truth was another story.

  What the hell was going on?

  First things first, calm the fuck down.

  If there was ever
a time to practice self-management, it was right now. How he reacted to this was his choice.

  “I’m choosing to calm the fuck down,” he muttered. Clear his head. Get some perspective. Think through what he wanted and what steps he could take to get there. Since he had zero experience with this sort of thing, he could sit here and spin his wheels or he could get some help.

  He walked down the hall to Emmy Lou’s room, hoping like hell she was still awake. He adored both of his sisters, but tonight he needed less sarcasm and more support. She and Krystal wanted to do the whole family breakfast thing in the morning, so he had a key card to her room. With any luck, she’d still be up. If not…well, maybe he’d check out the hotel gym and see if he could sweat some of this shit out.

  He swiped the card and opened the door. Emmy Lou’s suite was large, large enough that he could hear his sister talking before he could see her.

  “But Sawyer’s mother?” Emmy Lou was talking. “Are you sure that Ruby is Sawyer’s mother?”

  Ruby? The name was familiar. Travis slowed. Ruby as in Daddy’s ex-girlfriend… Sawyer, what? What did she just say?

  “That’s what the private eye said.” Krystal’s voice. “He couldn’t find anything that shows Daddy knows Sawyer is his son, though. Which we’d basically figured out.”

  Travis froze. Daddy knows Sawyer is his son.

  “I have so many questions. Why wouldn’t Ruby tell Daddy about Sawyer? No matter what happened between them, Daddy had the right to know he had a son.” Emmy Lou was upset.

  What the hell? He braced a hand against the wall. What the fucking hell?

  “We don’t know, Em. Sawyer’s a couple of years older than Trav. For all we know Ruby tried to reach out to Daddy and Momma did what Momma does.” Krystal’s tone was sharp. “We just don’t know.”

  “What do we do now?” Emmy Lou asked.

  “Like I know? It was one thing when we thought he was Daddy’s. Now we know.” Krystal paused. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, Em, but I can’t take the secrets. It’s not right. Daddy should know. Travis should know.”

  Travis shook his head, leaning into the wall. Then why didn’t you tell me?

  “I know. I know.” Emmy Lou’s voice was tight. “What about Sawyer? Is this our news to tell? I keep thinking about Daddy. And Trav… Travis is doing so well. I want everyone to stay okay.”

  He couldn’t do this—not now. He’d come here looking for a refuge. Not this. He pushed off the wall. If he went in there, he’d say things he’d regret.

  Better to do what he’d set out to do. Clear his head. Get some perspective. He almost laughed then.

  But none of this was funny. Fuck this. He left the way he’d come in. He didn’t head to his room; being alone right now wasn’t smart. He knew that. Instead, he pulled open the door to the stairs and jogged down the twenty-two flights of stairs to the lobby. He’d broken a light sweat by the time he’d reached the ground floor, but he was still on edge. The lobby was mostly empty. The restaurant was closed but the bar was open.

  Fuck it.

  He headed for the bar.

  The bartender nodded a greeting. “What can I get you?”

  “Sprite and cranberry.” Travis sat on one of the empty stools and scanned the menu. “And two orders of cheesy fries.”

  A quick sweep of the bar told him he’d been noticed. But he wasn’t exactly giving off welcoming vibes so, hopefully, everyone would keep their distance. Right now, he needed distance.

  How did he wrap his head around this? All of it. For the first time in his life, he was in love. That, alone, was enough. But, no, why stop there?

  He stared into the non-cocktail the bartender slid his way, wishing it was something stronger. Not because he wanted it—he never wanted it. He just wanted the numb it could give. It’d be a hell of a lot easier to deal with all of this if he wasn’t so twisted up over it.

  Not only was the woman he loved possibly involved with his best friend. Come to find out his best friend and bodyguard, Sawyer, was his fucking half brother? A half brother his sisters knew about? His sisters knew. But they worried about what he’d do if he found out.

  Then again, there was video proof of how well he handled himself when things didn’t work out so well. When I was drinking. But he wasn’t drinking.

  He’d made a commitment to himself. He wasn’t going to break it.

  Just like they’d made a commitment to him. No lies. No matter what.

  “Travis?” Sawyer was standing beside him.

  Sawyer.

  “I could use some space right now,” Travis said, his grip tightening on his cranberry and Sprite.

  Sawyer’s eyes darted from Travis’s face to the drink and back again. “You sure that’s the best idea?”

  He wasn’t sure of a damn thing. Travis ran both hands through his hair. “What do you want from my family, Sawyer?”

  Sawyer’s brow creased, then smoothed. “What I was hired to do, Travis—”

  “No.” Travis shook his head. “I know.” He stared at him, watching closely. “I know who you are.”

  Sawyer ran a hand over his head, his jaw clenching tight.

  “My sisters know.” He was still watching him. “You know that?”

  “I suspected.” He cleared his throat.

  “So you three haven’t had some heart-to-heart talk about how to spring this on my father?” He sipped his drink. “Our father.”

  Sawyer sat on the stool beside him. “No.”

  “Cheesy fries.” The bartender slid the piled-high plate across the bar. “Can I get you anything?” he asked Sawyer.

  “The same.” Sawyer pointed at Travis’s glass.

  Because he thinks I’m drinking? Travis shook his head and finished his drink.

  Sawyer picked up the drink the bartender offered, sniffed it, then took a sip.

  “It’s cranberry juice and soda.” Travis grinned at the look on Sawyer’s face. “I’m not going to undo a year of hard work just because of…this.” He pointed at him. “Everyone’s walking around on eggshells, like I’m some ticking time bomb or something. That’s what pisses me off more than anything. That my perceived vulnerability is an excuse for their behavior. I call bullshit.” He grabbed a cheesy fry. “The three of us agreed, no more secrets, no more lies, period. But, no, Travis might fall off the wagon so we have to keep this a secret?”

  Sawyer stared into his drink. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re not special. I’m keeping secrets from…everyone.”

  “Everyone as in my family?” He paused. “You’ve been here for almost three years and, until a couple of weeks ago, I didn’t even know you had a brother.”

  “I try to keep my personal and professional life separate—”

  “That’s why you’re working security for your father and halfsiblings.” He looked Sawyer square in the eye. “Makes perfect sense.”

  Thankfully, Sawyer didn’t argue.

  “Can we cut the shit?” Travis said.

  Sawyer nodded.

  “You knew who we were when you got this job.” It wasn’t a question. “You’ve had a hundred opportunities to speak up but you’ve stayed quiet.”

  Sawyer’s jaw muscle flexed.

  “I’m asking again. What do you want from my family?” He knew he was staring the man down but, dammit, he couldn’t help it. He was done with secrets. Done with lies.

  “Honestly?” Sawyer cleared his throat. “I came here to hurt you all. Hank, most of all.”

  “He knows about you?” Travis asked, angry all over again. His father had made some mistakes in his life—but setting aside a son? That was above and beyond a mistake. That was an inexcusable dick move. He spun his new drink slowly, hoping like hell his father was just as in the dark as Travis had been.

  “I was sure he did. How could he not know?
” Sawyer’s jaw was working overtime now. “But my mother kept it from me so why wouldn’t she keep it from him too?” He shrugged. “My dad died—the man I thought was my father, anyway—and Mom was selling the house. I found a box of her things, put two and two together, and headed to Austin to find out for myself.”

  “And what, you took one look at our dysfunctional family and couldn’t leave?” Travis’s laugh was bitter.

  But Sawyer shrugged and cleared his throat. “I couldn’t leave.”

  How would this have played out if Sawyer had walked up to his father and told him the truth? Would he have been welcomed with open arms? How did a man do that, anyway? Walk up to a stranger knowing he was your father? A father that had no idea he existed?

  “What did your mom say?” Travis asked.

  “I didn’t tell her.” Sawyer’s lips pressed flat. “I just left.”

  “Fucking secrets.” Anger damn near choked Travis. “I guess we have more in common than just our father.” He held his glass up.

  Sawyer tapped his glass to his. “A messed-up family and a lying mother?” He nodded.

  They sat in companionable silence, devouring the food and finishing off their drinks.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” Sawyer said, looking pained.

  “Let me guess? About Loretta?” Travis ran a hand over his face. His heart already hurt; might as well rip it open and let it bleed out. “I’m pretty sure I already know.”

  “She hasn’t come right out and said it yet, but I know why she’s holding back. I’m hoping, in time, she’ll come clean so we can fix things.”

  Travis frowned, a flickering hope returning. “If she hasn’t told you how she feels, I’m not throwing in the towel. She’s worth fighting for.”

  “I know.” Sawyer nodded. “Why do you think I’m doing this? I’ll figure out the truth soon enough.”

  “What if the truth is she doesn’t know?” Travis wiped his fingers on a napkin. “I don’t have much experience with this sort of thing, but I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to lead with your heart and, sometimes, the heart isn’t as forthcoming as you’d like.”

 

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