Page 58 of Country Music Cowboy
Loretta glanced up, her gaze scanning the people gathered round the audio and video equipment. Emmy Lou? Krystal? They had her number.
It’s the King you don’t like. The one you slept with.
Once the shock wore off, she was smiling. Talk about gall.
Not that there was much sleeping.
Really? Like she didn’t know. She knew. And every time she crawled into that big empty bed, he was all she could think about. Him. And that sleepless night. And how, just thinking about it, made her ache.Your teasing thing is going a little too far, Travis King.She shook her head and set the phone facedown on the blanket.
But a series of pings had her reaching for the phone and staring at the texts roll in. Each text. One. Word.
We. Should. Talk. About. One. More. Night.Three dots bounced and bounced.Soon.
Loretta stared at the screen, her heart thundering against her ribcage.What?If this was a joke, it wasn’t funny. If it wasn’t a joke, it was a terrible idea.Terrible.She turned her phone off.
“We ready?” the director called out. “Places. Cue the music. The fan.”
It was quite a production. Emmy Lou walking, her dress blowing out behind her, two white horses trailing behind her. She was singing.
One hope, rising inside me, that you’ll hear my song.
Each night, I close my eyes, and hope I wasn’t wrong.
Cuz losing you, still wanting you, won’t leave my mind.
And losing you, yes, loving you has left me color-blind.
The cameras pivoted to Travis, standing barefoot on a massive rock formation. He was playing a sky-blue guitar, his curls swaying in the fan-engineered wind.
At the top of the rock was Krystal. Her dark blue dress was just as gauzy and ethereal as Emmy Lou’s, her long blond locks—plus her signature black stripe—swirling around her as she looked up into the sky. Together, they sang the chorus. Loretta found herself singing along too.
All I see is you… All I see is blue.
Blue skies for miles,
Blue birds flying high,
Bright blue like your eyes.
Don’t you know oo-hoo—I’m blue when you’re gone.
“Cut!” the director yelled. “Let’s reset.”
A flurry of activity was happening, but Loretta only saw Travis. He was typing on his phone, then looking her way. It took effort, but she didn’t turn on her phone—even if the damn thing felt like it was burning a hole in her pocket. As much as she wanted to deny it, she liked Travis. Liking him and wanting him, together, had the potential to be dangerous all around. And cold smile aside, CiCi King had a point. Travis was vulnerable. Letting things go on with Travis—no matter how much she ached for him—couldn’t happen. She couldn’t let it.
***
“This is perfect,” Emmy Lou said, cutting into the apple pie Krystal had made. “All of it.” She smiled at them both. “I know nothing’s going to change but—”
“You’ll be married,” Travis interrupted. “That’s a change.”
“But not a big one.” Krystal frowned. “You’re still my sister first. And we’re still singing together and going on tour together and you better still come spend the night with me and Jace and we all better still come out here.” She stabbed her piece of pie, her breathing accelerating and her tone going higher and higher. “And all the holidays. All of them. They have to be here. All of us together.”
Travis wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. But since Emmy Lou started crying, he had to laugh.
“Come on, now.” He put an arm around them both and pulled them in for a big hug. “We like Brock. He’s been a part of this family for a long time. There’s no reason to get worked up over this. It’s not like she’s marrying an asshole, leaving the band, and us.”
“Isortof like Brock,” Krystal huffed against his chest.
