Page 16 of Country Music Cowboy
“Speaking of which, any sign of your mother?” Brock Watson, Emmy’s fiancé, asked.
Travis knew exactly what Brock was asking. He wasn’t the only King facing potential humiliation and scandal. If his mother showed up with her reported boyfriend Kegan Scott, things were bound to get awkward as hell for his father—for all of them really.
Travis sought out his father. “No sign of Momma.” His father was walking back to them, Loretta Gram on his arm. “Or Kegan Scott.”
“No.” Emmy Lou waved as they made their way, slowly, along the carpet. But she must have been thinking along the same lines because she said, “That’s just talk, you know that. Momma thrives on drama, but our family has always come first. She wouldn’t bring another man here tonight. She wouldn’t.”
Travis and Brock exchanged a look, but conversation came to a stop as they approached one of the night’s red carpet emcees. A live two- to three-minute soundbite to give at-home viewers a better look at the musicians and celebrities in attendance.
When Travis saw their emcee, the knot in his throat eased—just a bit. Molly Harper was one of the few reporters that had never treated his family with anything but respect. And, for that, Travis was a fan. Krystal liked to tease him about it—she’d even bought him a coffee mug that read Molly Harper’s #1 Fan.
Right before they stepped up onto the elevated stage where Molly waited, Loretta whispered something to his father and let go of his arm. Instinctively, Travis searched for signs of Mickey Graham.
For the first time that evening, his gaze collided with Loretta’s. The smile on those red lips never wavered, but her topaz eyes flashed with hostility. She almost made him laugh. Why the hell did he think she needed protecting? All it would take was one of those looks and Mickey Graham wouldn’t know what hit him.
It was a solid reminder. She is not my problem or my responsibility.
Travis stepped up on to the dais, holding out his hand to assist his sisters with navigating the steps without tripping over their voluminous skirts.
“We can all squeeze in,” Molly said once they were crowded together on the small platform. It meant a great deal when Molly accepted his hug and whispered, “It’s good to see you back, Travis. I believe in you.”
Hugs all around and they waited for Molly to count down.
“I’m here, live, on the red carpet, and look who’s here?” She turned. “The King family. Hank, Emmy Lou, Krystal, and Travis. It’s so wonderful to see you here tonight. And, may I say, all four of you look smashing.”
Travis tuned out as his sisters listed off the designers of their dresses and the cost of the jewelry they’d been loaned for the evening.
“Travis, you’re wearing?” Molly asked, waiting.
Travis glanced down. “Armani.” He resisted the urge to tug at his collar.
“I’m loving the exaggerated shawl label of the jacket. And, look at you, leaving your dress shirt unbuttoned. Very Travis King.” Molly’s smile was sincere.
“Thank you?” he asked, uncertain.
“You’re welcome.” She laughed. “I know I speak for many folks here tonight, especially your fans, when I say we are glad to see your return to the stage. You look like you’re feeling well. You’ve been working out.” She shrugged. “I, for one, didn’t think it was possible for you to get more handsome. It seems I was wrong.”
Travis blanked. Was he supposed to say something witty?I got nothing.
“What have you been doing to prepare for tonight?” Molly’s question caught him off guard.
He cleared his throat, knowing all eyes were on him. “Rehearsing mostly. Lucky for me, I know some people willing to help with that.” He paused, glancing Loretta Gram’s way. “But seeing as I’m getting to perform with one of the most talented artists out there, I’m pretty sure no one will be paying much attention to me.”
“Three Kings are up for Song of the Year and Hank, you’re up for Album of the Year. Good luck tonight. I’ll be rooting for you.” Molly smiled into the camera until she turned. “All clear. Thank you so much.”
Things wrapped up quickly. Jace helped Krystal, Emmy Lou took Brock’s hand, and his daddy followed him down.
“Shit.” Travis heard Krystal’s whispered curse word. “Momma.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw her. His mother. And she wasn’t alone. So far, Daddy hadn’t spied them… If he could steer them all inside, there was a chance the strained reunion wouldn’t happen before several hundred cameras and reporters ready and waiting to pounce.
“Mr. King.” Loretta’s voice was soft. “I hate to hurry inside, but I think the sun is getting to me. Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” his father assured her, patting her hand. “I’m not too partial to the Nevada sun, myself. You need something cold to drink, a little air conditioning, and some shade.”
“I think you’re right.” Loretta sounded relieved. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad you said something, Loretta.” Emmy Lou flanked their father’s other side. “My dress weighs a ton. I think I’m melting.”
