Page 26 of Country Music Cowboy
“She’s talented and gorgeous and, I think, the sort of woman who could keep you in line,” Emmy Lou added. “Once she decides to like you, of course.”
“Look at you, being all sassy.” But it was such a surprise, Travis had to laugh.
“You were sweet to her.” Krystal was like a dog with a bone. “Above and beyond sweet to her.”
“Like she was with Daddy.” He shrugged. “Just returning the favor.”
“Travis, you can’t be happy spending all your time hanging out with Dad and Sawyer, no offense.” Emmy Lou glanced at Sawyer.
“None taken,” Sawyer answered, toasting her with his coffee cup.
“I’m not denying Loretta Gram is a fine-looking woman. And, I guess, you might say we had amoment. But that’s all it was. A moment.” He shrugged, doing his damndest to convince himself. “Maybe I like my freedom too much or maybe it’s how fucked up our parents’ marriage is, but I’m in no hurry to complicate my life. Especially with a woman as complicated as Loretta Gram. I thank you but…no thank you.” He smiled. “Now, Jace, did you finish that song yet? If not, I’ve got a few ideas I thought we could try.”
As distractions went, it worked. He’d meant what he said—Loretta was complicated. But if he ever got a second chance, and if she was willing, he’d sure as hell like to finish what they started.
***
The Wheelhouse Records headquarters were housed in downtown Austin. They’d bought out several floors of a mostly glass skyscraper that had been featured in a handful of movies. As she walked down the concrete sidewalk leading to the giant glass double doors, Loretta couldn’t help but think about one of the movies filmed here. It involved the end of the world, a spaceship, and a very convincing and climactic scene of this building being blown to pieces.Not helping.Sure, Ethan Powell, CEO of Wheelhouse Records, had called her himself to schedule this meeting, but that didn’t mean it was something bad, did it?No. Of course not.So, what was with the sense of dread twisting up her stomach? “You’re sure you’re up for this?” Loretta asked, holding the front door wide for Margot.
“I’m terrific. I’m having a hell of a good hair day too. Look.” Margot turned her head left, then right. “I’m taking it as an omen of all the good things to come.”
“Your hair is on point.” Loretta was grateful her manager was here with her. If there was a person who could go toe-to-toe with Ethan Powell, it was Margot.
“Wasn’t that movie made here?” Margot asked, her heels clicking on the marble floor as they headed to the bank of elevators. “The one where—”
“The building explodes?” Loretta nodded, waiting for the elevator doors to open.
“What? No?” Margot followed her into the elevator and pressed the button. “The one with the superrich guy and the whips and all the sex.”
Loretta was in shock.
“Lori-girl, your eyes look like they’re about to bug out of your head.” Margot laughed. “What’s wrong with watching a movie with some BDSM and dirty talk if it helps distract a woman from chemo-induced nausea?”
“Nothing.” Loretta’s cheeks were on fire, but that didn’t stop her from apologizing. “I’m sorry, Margot. You can watch all the BDSM and whips and dirty talk sex movies you want.”
“I feel like we should take the next elevator.” A male voice—gruff and a bit raspy—came from behind her.
“Hank King, you get yourself in here and give me a hug.” Margot laughed.
If Loretta had been embarrassed before, she was mortified now. To the point she couldn’t bring herself to look Hank King in the eye. It was easier to stare at the ground until the previous comments were forgotten or the elevator ride was over—whichever came first.
But, according to her view of the ground, it wasn’t just one pair of cowboy boots that had joined them in the elevator. Two. Two pairs of high-end, custom ostrich skin boots. Meaning it wasn’t just Hank King who’d heard her.
“You get better every time I see you, Hank,” Margot said. “What’s your secret? And don’t tell me it’s clean living, because I know better.” She paused. “I’m thinking you sold your soul to the Devil.” Margot laughed. “Land sakes, look at you. A chip off the old block. You can tell you’re his son. I don’t know what sorcery is in the King genes, but it’s mighty powerful.”
Hank’s son. His one and only son.No. Please, no.
“You’re quite the sweet talker, Margot.”
That voice.Loretta knew that gravel and velvet voice. That voice had pulled her from her sleep more than once since the IMAs.Travis. Travis was here.Right next to me. Right now.With his sapphire eyes and his just-right mussed hair and that smile.
The elevator dinged, the doors closed, and a moment’s silence ensued.
Just so we are clear, I plan on kissing you, Loretta Gram.
How many times had she replayed that? Not by choice. It just happened. She could be washing dishes or doing her morning yoga routine or knitting blankets for the local animal shelter. Out of nowhere, she’d hear his words and wind up aching and distracted for an hour or more.
She’d done the right thing. She’d do it again. Because kissing Travis King would lead to more than kissing and that would be a colossal mistake. But maybe…A mistake worth making.
