Page 91 of Country Music Cowboy

She stirred the moment the light clicked off. She sat up, her heart slamming against her chest.

“Loretta?” Travis sank onto the bed. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, his scent—mint and leather—flooding her still sleepy senses. “I’m getting my peanut nougat chocolate thing and I’ll be on my way.”

She laughed. “I’m pretty sure that’s not the name.”

“No?” He chuckled. “Guess it would be a little hard to fit on the wrapper.”

She smiled into the dark.

“It was my idea.” Travis cleared his throat. “Coming tonight.”

She held her breath, waiting.

“If it was a bad call, I’m sorry.”

Her hand moved across the blanket until she found what she was looking for. His hand. Warm. Solid. “It wasn’t.” There was a fragile intimacy between them—held together by the safety of the dark and their hushed voices.

His hand turned over, his fingers threading with hers.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” He swallowed. “I know how you feel about honesty—we’re on the same page there.”

Except I lied to you.She hated herself a little then. She had lied to him.

“What about respect? And loyalty. My father said those are the three things that support a relationship. Instead of worrying about the ‘L’ word, maybe give a chance to the man willing to give you those three things—that inspires those feelings in you.” His fingers slid from hers. “You deserve that, Loretta.”

She managed to hold back her tears until after the door clicked closed behind Travis. All this time she’d fought to hold on to her heart, he’d never once said anything about having feelings for her. She’d been thankful for that. It was easier and safer to keep things the way they were. That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? No risks. No pain. No more loss…

She didn’t want to lose Travis. He was…worth the risk. If he cared—even the slightest bit—and she was too scared to speak up, she’d lose him anyway.

***

Travis was glad he’d had a meeting with Archie that morning. He’d cleared his head, worked through the goal, come up with a plan—generally made himself believe that he could do this and, somehow, it’d be okay. Not right away, but eventually.Maybe.He had set three spots at the kitchen table. Himself, Momma, and Daddy. At this point, he couldn’t bear to keep his father in the dark. He hadn’t quite figured if or how he should be the one to tell his father about Sawyer—but that was none of Momma’s business.

“What’s cooking?” Krystal asked, pushing through the kitchen door, a bouquet of flowers in her arms.

“Lasagna.” He barely spared her a glance. He’d played nice the night they’d converged on Loretta’s room because he didn’t have the nerve to go alone. But after that, he’d been keeping his distance. By now, he had no doubt that his sisters knew something was up. And since neither of them had dared to bring it up, he began to think they might know what he was upset about. Until one of the three of them stepped up, there was no hope of easing the tension between them.

“Lasagna?” Her brows rose.

“Don’t get too excited.” Travis sighed. “It’s frozen.”

Krystal smiled as she pulled a blue glass vase from the cabinet. “Who’s coming?”

He saw her glance at the table. “Momma.”

She almost dropped the vase. “Here?”

He nodded.

“And?”

“Daddy.” He rearranged the silverware but they still didn’t look right.

“Why?” She was frowning. “Do you think that’s smart? I mean, Daddy has his surgery tomorrow morning—”

“I’m not sure how lunch today will affect his surgery tomorrow?” He glanced at his sister.

“No.” She shook her head.