Page 18 of Country Music Cowboy
She shook her head. They were calling LoveJoy. LoveJoy was gone. Johnny was gone. She didn’t want to do this alone.
“If you want…” Travis cleared his throat. “You need a hand?”
No.Not from him. He should be on the other side of the stage. Not here. She opened her mouth but her throat was so tight, she could barely breathe.
He stepped forward and held out his hand.
Was he serious? Was he after something or was she so pathetic that even he couldn’t leave her to flounder by herself? She stared at his hand. Did it matter?No.The sad truth was, as much as she didn’t want his help, she needed it. She stepped forward, gripped his hand in both of hers, and did her damndest to suck air into her lungs.I hope I don’t regret this.“Okay,” she murmured, letting him lead her out and onto the stage.
It took forever to get to the mic. If it felt like all eyes were on her, it’s because they were. Jace and Becca. The cameras. The audience—all rising to their feet. Her hold tightened on Travis’s hand.
“Congratulations.” Becca handed over the crystal award, leaning forward to give her a one-armed hug.
The hug was awkward to begin with, but Loretta’s hold on Travis didn’t help. Not that she could let go.Let go. Let go.But her fingers did the exact opposite, gripping the sleeve of his designer tuxedo sleeve talon-style.
Travis’s hand rested atop hers, warm and strong and—dammit—comforting.
As the clapping died down, Loretta scrambled for words—any words. “I’m in shock,” she said, her voice wavering. “People always say that, I know, but I…I mean it. I knew ‘Blue’ would win. I just knew it.” She glanced at Travis then. Travis—whose arm she had in a vice grip. “Sorry, I guess.” Laughter rippled across the audience.
Travis winked.
Looking at Travis was a bad idea.
She stared down at the award. “This was… ‘Rain Down’ was the last song Johnny wrote. We never had the chance to perform it live…” She had to stop then, had to steady herself. “He said he wanted to write something that people could sing and be happy.” Her voice was shaking now, dammit. “He liked making people happy. And I think this means he accomplished that. I hope so, anyway.” She cradled the award against her. “I want to thank you. The fans. Our incredible manager, Margot Reed. And Wheelhouse Records. And Travis King for dragging me onstage.” More laughs. “So, thank you.”
As the audience applauded, she forced herself to let go of Travis. “I guess I’ll let go now since you need to go that way and I’m this way.”
“As long as you’re sure.” Those blue-green eyes swept over her face, a hint of a teasing smile on his mouth.
“I’m sure.” She hadn’t meant to snap. And, really, it wasn’t even at him. She was mad at herself. She was the one noticing the smiles and the color of his eyes and the teasing. He was just being him.
“See you out there in sixty seconds.” He was full on smiling then.
Travis King needed to wield that smile with more care. He might not know it, but it was dangerous. Even in her rattled state she felt the power of it. Why? Considering how much she disliked the man, it was more than a little infuriating that his smile made her ache.Wait. No.It had nothing to do with Travis and everything to do with what had just happened. The song. The award. The standing ovation. All of it. Travis was just…there. She hurried off the darkening stage, handed the award to one of the waiting attendants, and tried to get her head straight.
Positive thoughts. Eyes closed, she pressed her hands to her heart and tried to slow the thundering rhythm. This might be her first performance without Johnny, but it wouldn’t be her last. She had to do this. All that mattered was doing her best. For her career. Her future.And for you, Johnny.Her skin prickled, her nerves stretched taut just beneath the surface.I can do this.When it was over, she’d give herself the night—just one—to let it all out.After.She took a deep breath and headed on stage.
Beneath the beam of the spotlight, she sang the opening verse with all the heart she could muster.
Travis’s gruff and deep tone sent a ripple down her spine. “Hours pass, and there’s still no end in sight. Promised you, not to give up on the fight.”
The song kept going, the lyrics taking shape without thought. Which was good, because it was taking effort not to watch the slideshow. She couldn’t. Not now, when she was so raw—so vulnerable…
It was the way the light hit Travis King that stopped her from spiraling. Better to focus on him than publicly lose it. After all, there was plenty to focus on. The just-right fall of his too-long curly hair. The perfect fit of his tuxedo, stretched taut over his broad shoulders. The hint of yearning in his voice that tore at her fragile control.
They kept singing, moving slowly, and moving closer—so close she could see the muscles working in his throat as he watched her sing. Focusing on him eased the hurt she’d been struggling with, but it did nothing to calm her nerves. Now that he was standing beside her, there was no space between them and nothing to stop the growing hunger she had for this man. Her breathing was unsteady and, honestly, she was panicking over her total lack of resistance to Travis King. Resisting him was the last thing she wanted to do.
She hadn’t expected the brush of his fingertips against hers. If she had, she might have managed to hide her reaction. No such luck. He didn’t miss her bone-deep shudder. She didn’t miss the tick of his jaw muscle—or the slight flare of his nostrils.
What is happening?
The music rose, building and rising, until they sang the final chorus together.
So, I’ll hold you closer.
Keep you warm in my heart.
Your name is a whisper.
