Page 76 of Country Music Cowboy
“Are you okay?” Emmy Lou, sitting beside Loretta, began patting her back.
Travis glared at his sister.
“What?” Krystal was all smiles.
He stood and carried his banjo to the back of the bus. His father had several custom cases built in to safely transport some of their favorite instruments. He secured the banjo and checked his watch.
He dialed Archie’s number.
“Hey, man,” Archie answered, energetic as ever. “How’s life on the road?”
“Pretty good.” He shrugged. If he was being honest with himself, he felt—confined. “A little cramped.”
“Actual space or headspace?”
One of the things Travis appreciated most about Archie was how much the older man got Travis. He was a self-proclaimed hippie, with long hair and a penchant for sandals, but he and Travis clicked. He’d been a jazz guitarist for years, so they could have entire conversations in a form of musical shorthand.
“Both.” Travis chuckled.
“What’s weighing on you?” His tone was grave now. “I hear it, man. Let it out.”
Travis paced the six-foot space in front of the instrument cabinets. “We talked about—”
“Loretta? How’s that going?”
“I guess we hit pause.” Not that he had any fucking idea how or why or what had happened.
“You’re good, though?” Archie asked. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on the road, but I’ll pack a bag if you need me.”
“I appreciate the offer.” Travis chuckled. “I’m good.” As far as drinking anyway. He didn’t know how to explain it, really. But once he’d made up his mind to cut the drinking out of his life, he had. Nothing had made him question his decision. At least, nothing had made him second-guess that yet.
They went over his Urge Log—something he’d relied on a lot in the beginning. He hadn’t needed it in a while, but he understood why Archie was asking him about it. He was worried about Travis.
“You’re in the lion’s den, Trav,” Archie said. “Don’t let the fear or the doubt get a hold of you. You’ve got this.”
Travis nodded. “I know my four points, Archie. Motives and goals. Beliefs. Emotions. And behaviors. They might as well be tattooed on my brain.”
“You get to thinking you need a meeting, let me know and we’ll get you set up with one online.” Archie paused. “As a long-married man, I’ve got a little advice for you. Don’t leave things unsaid. You talk, you know. You don’t… Well, that’s when your brain can have a field day. Especially us creative types.”
Talk. Simple. Easy. Since she wouldn’t answer his texts, he’d go old-school and do this face-to-face. “Will do.”
“All right, man. You keep on being a singing badass. Check in same time next week?”
“Sounds good, Archie. Thanks, man.”
“I got your back, man. Peace.” Archie hung up.
Travis chuckled.Peace?He hadn’t felt all that peaceful since he’d walked into Loretta’s dressing room last night.
He’d never been a jealous man.
Sawyer wasn’t only his bodyguard—he was his friend. As such, he knew Sawyer wouldn’t make a move on Loretta.
Dammit. He hated the seed of doubt that had been planted.
Sawyer’s face. Loretta’s face. She’d been jumpy, eager to put space between them—and keep it that way for the rest of the night.
Loretta had made it clear from the beginning. This was sex. Only sex. He was falling for her—hardcore—but she didn’t know that. If she did, she’d probably have kicked his ass to the curb.
