Page 32 of Country Music Cowboy
The only person she could truly rely on was herself. Normally, that is. Around Travis? She was beginning to worry she couldn’t trust herself when it came to him. Even now, in the midst of a serious conversation, she was struggling to focus.
“I’m not taking any of this for granted.” His gaze hung on a particular picture hanging on the wall, the slight tightening of his jaw grabbing her attention.
It was a family picture—several years old from the looks of it. It was a publicity still but the smiles, and the affection, were real enough. He, his parents, and his sisters. A momentary glimpse into another time. And since this had been taken well before the current behind-the-scenes drama between Hank and CiCi King, chances are this had been a happier time.
“Here’s the thing, Loretta. I know Wheelhouse has turned on the pressure, but this is your life.” Travis took a deep breath, his blue-green eyes swiveling her way. “Don’t let them strong-arm you into something you’ll regret.”
Was there a way to avoid regrets? It seemed unlikely. But since she’d already shared way more than she’d planned, she wouldn’t give voice to that question. Instead, she waved her hand around the room at all the years and years of Hank King memorabilia. “What about you? I’m guessing this counts as pressure for you?”
“Nah.” He was smiling now. “He’s Hank King, but he’s my dad. I’ve never wanted to compete with him.”
First the eye contact, then the smile…now the rapidly shrinking room. The air seemed to thin, and a rather alarming heat began warming the pit of her stomach. Neither one of them moved—but things seemed to shift nonetheless. She went from being mildly aware of the other occupant in the room, to something else. Something wild and intense and magnetic that twined around her. Around them.
Just so we’re clear, I plan on kissing you Loretta Gram.
His gaze dipped to her mouth, almost as if he could read her thoughts.
More likely he can read them on my face.
“Soup’s on.” Krystal’s voice carried down the hallway. “Come and get it.”
Seconds later the click of nails and the jingle of Clementine’s collar announced the arrival of Krystal’s three-legged dog.
“Hello.” Loretta bent to pet the poof on the top of the little dog’s head, giving the dog an adoring smile. “Were you sent to come get us?”
“She’s here to butter you up so you’ll sneak her some food under the table.” Travis chuckled. “She loves barbecue.”
“Do you?” Loretta asked Clementine.
Clementine’s tail wagged so fast, it made her already off-kilter posture more precarious.
“Come on,” Travis said, scooping up the dog. “Don’t feed her too much sausage. She’s not quite as adorable when she gets gassy.”
Loretta was so surprised, she laughed. “She does not.”
“She does so,” he argued, smiling broadly as he led her out of the room and down the hall. “You’ve been warned.”
Loretta tried not to stare at the opulence of the King home. It was so…so over-the-top that she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it. This was theirhome. Considering how busy Hank and Three Kings’ tour schedules were like, it was a home they probably didn’t spend that much time in.
“It’s a lot.” Travis nodded, staring around the pristine white entryway. “But it figures. This, all of this, was Momma’s doing.”
“Oh.” While she wasn’t a CiCi King fan, she wasn’t about to bad-mouth his mother. And her opinion of CiCi had nothing to do with the current state of her marriage and everything to do with a run-in she’d had with her a few years back. It didn’t matter how curvy or soft the woman’s surgically enhanced body was. To Loretta, CiCi King was coldness and pointy edges. “I see.” She did, too. Cold. Impersonal. Intimidating. Glamorous. All words for this room—or CiCi King.
“I’m hoping Dad will let Krystal and Emmy Lou make some changes.” Travis shrugged, absentmindedly scratching Clementine behind the ear. “Make it more home for him.”
The formal dining room wasn’t quite as presumptuous as the front rooms, but it wasn’t exactly warm and cheery either. But once they’d all congregated around the fancy table, she didn’t worry so much about the room as much as the people in it.
She was having dinner with Hank King. In Hank King’s house. Not to mention Krystal and Jace and Travis…Travis who was laughing at something Margot said.
That laugh jumbled up her insides.
“Emmy Lou and Brock had that wedding thing,” Krystal said as she collected two of the place settings.
“Which wedding thing is that?” Travis asked, setting Clementine on the floor and pulling back a chair for Loretta.
He hadn’t done it for effect—it was all instinct. It made her smile.
“Some things stick.” Hank caught her eye and winked. “I’m taking credit for that one.”
