Page 23 of His Big Hometown Cowboy
“You took my brother to Rainbow Night?”
“He did.” Timmy’s voice held a slight edge. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know that was Wyatt’s truck when he picked me up last night. And before you go all big-brother protective, I’m twenty-four. I can go clubbing with whoever I want.”
“I know that.” Travis ran a hand through his already messy hair, sighing. He leaned forward slightly, his focus entirely on me now. “Look, Wyatt. This isn’t just some… hookup thing, right? Because Tim’s been through enough out there without…” He trailed off, but the implication hung heavy in the air.
The failed relationships Timmy mentioned yesterday. The burnout.
“It’s not.” My answer was firm, immediate. I felt Timmy glance at me, but I kept my eyes locked on Travis. “This is real.”
Travis held my gaze for a long moment, searching. Assessing.
Some of the tension eased from his shoulders. He nodded, once. “Okay.” He leaned back, the protective scrutiny fading, replaced by a dawning, almost exasperated realization. “Okay. So it finally happened.”
Timmy blinked. “Finally happened?”
Travis rolled his eyes, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Come on, you two. You think I didn’t notice? How you looked at Tim whenever you thought no one was watching, Wyatt? Like he hung the damn moon?” He shifted his gaze to Timmy. “Or how you used to follow him around like a lovesick puppy every summer, practically tripping over your own feet if he paid you any attention?”
I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out.
Timmy looked equally mortified. “Yes. Wyatt and I have discussed howunsubtleI was back then.”
“Both of you were.” Travis took a long sip of coffee, the smugness settling in now. “Painfully obvious.” He shook his head. “So what changed? One of you finally grow a pair and make a move?”
I glanced at Timmy. He gave a slight nod. “I asked him to Rainbow Night,” I repeated. “One thing led to another.”
“And now we’re together,” Timmy added, his voice gaining confidence. He reached under the table, his hand finding my thigh, squeezing gently. The simple touch anchored me. “Like, boyfriends.”
The word hung there, solidifying everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. It felt surprisingly right.
Travis studied us both, the amusement in his eyes deepening, but the underlying warmth was undeniable. “Good. About damn time.”
“You’re… not mad?” Timmy sounded skeptical.
“Why would I be mad?” Travis scoffed. “He’s my best friend. You’re my little brother. Kinda always figured you two were endgame, anyways.”
“You what?” Timmy and I said in unison.
Travis shrugged. “Saw it coming a mile off. Better him than some random asshole who might hurt you.” He fixed me with a pointed look, the steel returning to his eyes for a second. “Just… be good to him, Wyatt. Seriously. Or I’ll personally introduce your face to the business end of a fence post.”
“Understood.” I nodded solemnly. “No fence post necessary.”
“So that’s it?” Timmy still looked stunned. “No lecture? No grilling me about my intentions with your best friend?”
Travis laughed. “What is this, 1950? You’re grown men. Figure it out.” He pushed his chair back. “Frankly, I’m just relieved I don’t have to listen to Wyatt subtly grilling me about you every time we hang out anymore.”
My face burned hotter. “I don’t?—”
“Oh, you absolutely do,” Travis cut me off cheerfully. “Every single time. ‘How’s Tim doing in California? Has Tim mentioned coming home for a visit? Heard from Tim lately? Think Tim’s happy out there?’” He ticked the questions off on his fingers.
Timmy turned to me, eyebrows arched high, a slow, delighted smile spreading across his face. “Really?”
“I might have inquired about your well-being,” I admitted stiffly.
“A few inquiries,” Travis repeated with a theatrical snort. “Try a full debriefing every damn time we’ve had beers for the last four years.”
Timmy’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling. He squeezed my thigh again. “I had no idea.”
“Yeah, well.” I cleared my throat, desperate to change the subject. “Now you know.”
