Page 71 of Country Music Cowboy
“I’m an alcoholic. I’ll always be an alcoholic. But I’d been damn lucky. I found a program that worked for me, SMART. I talk to my coach Archie at least once a week—he’s on speed dial on my damn phone. My family goes to weekly meetings. I have nothing but support—I always have.” He was studying her, remembering their first interaction. “You weren’t wrong about me—that first day in the studio. A year ago, I was that entitled little fuck who didn’t stop long enough to see the rest of the world didn’t revolve around me. I drank, I partied, and I had everything I could ever want—plus some. I don’t have a DUI, I never hurt anyone or had an accident, I never got anyone pregnant or broke the law. I was damn lucky.” He shook his head. “What worries me the most? If I hadn’t scared the shit out of that kid that night, would I still be that clueless? That willfully self-destructive?”
They went back to staring at each other.
“That was all my shit.” He sighed. “I had no right to put that on you.”
“I asked.”
“You asked if I knew about the video and Guy’s questions, not about my lightbulb moment.” He tried to tease but it fell flat. Rules or no rules, he didn’t want to jeopardize this thing with her. She wasn’t ready to consider options beyond sex. He was. But there was no way unloading his past discretions onto her was going to win her over to a lifetime of commitment and unconditional love. “Every day, I’m in a better place. Make peace with my past. Manage my present actions and choices. And am intentional with my future.”
“What does that look like? How do you see your future?”
With you.He shrugged. “Good.”
“Good?” She was smiling then. “Is that your five-year plan?”
He pulled her close. “I’m feeling pretty good right now.”
Her smile faded slowly, giving her time to slowly withdraw—about the same time there was a knocking on her bedroom door.
“Expecting someone?” he asked.
“Only you.” If she didn’t look so panicked, he’d have been pleased with her answer.
“Want me to hide in the closet?” he asked.
She frowned. “Can’t we just ignore it? See if they go away?”
He shrugged. “Fine by me.” But then his phone started ringing. His phone—which was located somewhere between her hotel room door and the bathroom. Krystal’s ringtone.
Seconds later, Loretta’s phone was going off. Her phone sat in a charging dock on the bedside table, within reach.
“It’s Emmy Lou.” Loretta held the phone up. “They want me to come to Krystal’s suite? Something about a song Krystal’s been working on?”
Travis nodded. “Which means that was probably them knocking on the door.” He smiled. “It’s only ten fourteen. They’ll keep it up for a good two hours.” He sat up, running his fingers through his hair. “I should probably go before they come back.”
“Does this happen often?” Loretta propped herself up on her elbows, watching as she slipped from the bed.
“Only when she’s been struggling.” He bent, picked up his grey T-shirt, and pulled it on. “Or when she’s excited.” He tugged on his boxer shorts. “Or she needs help with music or lyrics.” He smiled. “I guess the short answer is yes.” He grabbed his jeans off the bathroom floor. “I remember Johnny writing something when we were at the Oasis. He had the same sort of…focus Krystal gets when she’s got a song bouncing around inside her head.”
Loretta sat up then hugged her knees to her chest. “He did.” She tossed back the blankets. “Since it’s a pj’s party, I guess I need to find some.”
That was all it took to have Travis seriously reconsidering his course of action. Why the hell was he leaving again?
“You know, the song will still be there in the morning,” he said, making his way around the bed to Loretta—standing naked and damn near perfect.
“You said they wouldn’t give up?” Loretta pointed out, rifling through the suitcase that sat on the room’s luggage rack. “You should go ahead and I’ll meet you there once I find the top.” She pulled on a pair of green check pajama pants.
“You could drop those and we could go back to bed,” Travis suggested, reaching for her pants.
“I think you need to go support your sister.” She tugged her pants away. “If this is what you do, you don’t think they’ll get suspicious if you don’t show up? They might already be suspicious.”
He was pretty sure they were all already suspicious.
“Right now, they all like me—I think.” Loretta sighed.
“And you think us having amazing sex will make them not like you?” Travis shook his head.
She was laughing. “No. But they might if I get in the way of the way things work. If, for instance, you don’t show up when you’d normally show upbecause of me, that might make them not like me.”
