Page 65 of Country Music Cowboy
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. “TMNran 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 inTMNwhen 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.”
