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  “The press back there?” Travis asked, trying to get a read on his bodyguard—and friend. “You think someone in the office tipped them off?”

  “Could be.” Sawyer shrugged. “A medical center this big? There are cameras all over. The security guards could have called it in. I’ll find out.” The last three words were gruff.

  Travis’s phone vibrated. “I’ve been waiting.” He chuckled, pulling his phone out from his pocket.

  Emmy Lou had sent a picture of the four of them, draped in white sheets, face down, on massage tables. The text read, Best girls’ day ever. Tell Daddy we’re thinking of him. Followed by a string of kissy-face emojis.

  Another text rolled in seconds later, but Travis was too busy studying the picture to care.

  Loretta was laughing. Propped on one elbow. Her long hair hanging over her shoulder. Young. Relaxed. Happy. Too often, she seemed on edge and on the defensive.

  Or does she only feel that way when she’s with me?

  ***

  “X-Y-L-O.” Loretta sat back in her chair, peering around the large kitchen table in victory.

  “Xylophone.” Hank nodded.

  A chorus of shhs and hushes immediately followed.

  “Dad.” Krystal sighed. “No talking, remember?”

  Hank pretended to lock his lips and throw away the key.

  Brock sat back, sighing. “Well, that probably just won you the game.”

  “And that’s just eating you up, isn’t it?” Emmy Lou giggled. “He’s super competitive,” she added, smiling at Loretta. “Losing gets him all worked up.”

  “Sorry…” But Loretta couldn’t help but smile. Brock Watson was a mountain of a man, so seeing him pout like a five-year-old was plain adorable.

  “She’s cheating,” Travis said, scooping a massive bite of ice cream into his mouth. Loretta wasn’t sure how he made eating ice cream sexy, but he did. For the last fifteen minutes. “Sawyer, use your Special Ops training on her.”

  Sawyer’s deadpan expression didn’t waver as he sipped his coffee. “I must have missed Scrabble cheating detection training day.”

  That had everyone laughing. Again. Loretta couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed this much. It had started this morning with Emmy Lou and Krystal. Together, they were hysterical. The witty back and forth. Krystal’s snark tempered by Emmy Lou’s sweetness. They weren’t just sisters, they were friends. Best friends.

  After manicures and pedicures, mud baths and massages and seaweed wraps, they’d come back to the Kings’ home. Margot had gone for a nap and Loretta—feeling like a limp noodle after the morning’s pampering—found a quiet corner to read over the Wheelhouse Records packet. But thinking about the deal meant thinking about Travis. One went with the other. It’s not a bad thing. As long as she controlled herself when it came to Travis, things should be fine. It was the controlling herself part that she doubted.

  But the quiet didn’t last for long. Hank, Travis, and Sawyer showed up within an hour of Brock and Jace’s arrival and everyone seemed to be talking at once. It wasn’t like they were a small family. Nope, they were big and loud and opinionated and funny. And when they were all together, all of those things were amplified. For someone who spent a lot of time alone, she found the constant motion and chatter surprisingly enjoyable. And the more time she spent with the Kings, the more she liked them.

  Hank’s non-diagnosis was taken in stride; Travis had broken out the ice cream, and Jace had located the box of board games. Considering how long it had been since she’d played a board game, she might have come across as competitive.

  Not that it had mattered. Brock had won at Risk and Monopoly, so this was pretty satisfying.

  “That’s nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine points for Loretta.” Travis pretended to tally the score. “And four, each, for the rest of us.”

  Loretta was laughing again. “I guess that means I won?”

  Brock sighed, slumped back in his chair, and accepted a bunch of consolatory kisses from Emmy Lou.

  “You’ll win next time,” Emmy Lou said between kisses.

  “I don’t know. I get the feeling Scrabble is Loretta’s game.” Jace shook his head at Brock, wearing a big grin. “Might not want to challenge her to a rematch unless you’re prepared to lose again.”

  Brock scowled in Jace’s direction.

  “We should celebrate.” Travis was up, pulling more ice cream from the freezer. “Who’s up for another round?”

  The game was forgotten as everyone gathered around the marble-topped island in the center of the kitchen.

  “Did you buy the store out?” Krystal asked, scooping from several different cartons.

  “It was Dad’s idea.” Travis shrugged. “We didn’t know what everyone liked so…”

  Brock nodded. “I’m not picky.”

  “It was very sweet of you, Daddy.” Emmy Lou gave her father a hug. “Want some more mint chocolate chip?” At his nod, Emmy Lou piled her father’s bowl high with the bright green ice cream.

  “Thank you. For the ice cream.” Loretta glanced at Brock then said, “And for letting me beat you.”

  Brock chuckled. “Whatever.”

  Loretta was smiling as she scooped brownie sundae into her bowl, then added a scoop of coffee.

  “I can’t believe you posted that picture,” Krystal said, staring at her phone. “We were supposed to be relaxing.”

  “We were relaxing.” Emmy Lou pointed her spoon at her sister. “It was my picture for the day. And it’s a good one.”

  Loretta had learned that Emmy Lou was trying to scale back her social media posts. Instead of multiple posts a day, she posted once and set aside a specific time to respond to comments.

  “What picture?” Travis asked.

  “From the spa.” Krystal shook her head. “Your hair looks gorgeous, Loretta. You look all sleek and sexy. I look like I need my hair brushed and someone to tweeze my eyebrows.”

  Loretta had no idea what Krystal was talking about. By now, she was pretty convinced it was impossible for any of the Kings to look bad. Krystal’s eyebrows? On point.

  “You’re gorgeous.” Jace slid his arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I like your eyebrows just the way they are.”

  Travis made a huge deal out of leaning forward and inspecting Krystal’s eyebrows. “Just like that?” He burst out laughing.

  Krystal pinched Travis on the arm, causing her brother to wince and pull away—but he was still laughing.

  Travis rubbing his arm had Loretta staring at his arm. His incredibly thick and heavily muscled arm. She swallowed, hard.

  There was a momentary lull in conversation as the focus went from conversation to ice cream.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Emmy Lou jumped up. “I have my bridal portrait proofs and I need an opinion on which to give to Home & Style magazine.”

  “I can’t.” Brock held up his hands. “Bad luck.”

  “I’m out—in solidarity.” Jace nodded at Brock.

  “That was a pretty solid excuse.” Travis chuckled. “In a chicken shit sort of way.”

  Jace laughed.

  Krystal took the pictures, her green gaze darting toward her sister’s face. “Gosh, which one? The one where you look like a fairy-tale princess or the one where you look like a fairy-tale princess?”

  “Loretta, help me out.” Emmy Lou collected the pictures and offered them to Loretta.

  “Really, Em, there’s not a bad picture in the bunch.” Krystal sighed. “Tell her, Loretta.”

  Loretta took the stack of photo proofs. “Oh, Emmy Lou.” She smiled. “Every bit a fairy-tale princess.” She moved on the next one. Then the next. Until she’d looked through the stack. “Krystal has a point. You look perfect in all of them.” She offered them to Travis.

  “Nope.” He held h
is hand up. “I know you’re getting married and I guess Brock is okay, but I’m not ready to see my little sister in a wedding dress. I’ll get all damn choked up.”

  He wasn’t teasing. Loretta heard the gruffness to his voice—the way his jaw muscle clenched.

  “Land sakes, that was a nap.” Margot came in then, her eyes puffy. “What did I miss?”

  “Glad you napped.” Hank frowned as the kitchen erupted in protests over him using his voice. He held his hands up, crossed her arms over his chest, and sighed.

  “Guess I needed it.” Margot turned, taking in the puddles of melted ice cream and ice cream scoops on the kitchen island. “An ice cream massacre?”

  “Want some?” Travis was up.

  “I’d love some plain ol’ vanilla, if you have some?” Margot said, her gaze shifting to Loretta. “Can I borrow you for a sec?”

  Loretta slipped from her chair and followed her manager from the kitchen. Standing beneath the opulent chandelier on CiCi King’s sparkled-infused floor, Loretta asked, “Is everything okay?”

  “The label contacted me.” Margot shrugged, but the tension around her eyes told her she wasn’t as relaxed as she pretended. “They wondered if you had any questions for them. Or if you’d thought about your answer. Basically, what do you want to do, Lori-girl?”

  Loretta stared up at the chandelier. “I don’t want my career linked to someone unpredictable. Again. And you know how much I loved Johnny.” She swallowed against the anger and sadness tightening her throat. “Even if I wanted to, how would this even work? I hate going into this without any sense of certainty.”

  Margot gave her a long look before she spoke. “If there’s one thing I know with absolute certainty, it’s that there is nothing certain about life.” She took Loretta’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Johnny. Cancer. A deadbeat dad. A damn car crash—whatever. Whatever you decide, don’t let things be based on all the ways it could go wrong.” She gave it another squeeze. “Don’t let fear guide your life choices, Lori-girl. If you do that, you won’t do much living. Nothing worth remembering, anyway. You’re too young for that. But I’ll stand by you, no matter what you decide. And this is entirely your choice.” She gave her hand a final squeeze and let go. “If you don’t know what you want—”

  “I think I do.” She blew out a long, slow breath.

  “Oh?” Margot was wide-eyed with excitement. “Do tell.”

  “I think… No, I know I want to do this.” There, she’d said it. Admitted it. And it was scary as hell.

  Margot hugged her close. “That’s my girl.” She gave Loretta a pat on the back. “But I’ll leave you to tell who you want, when you want. Now, I’m headed back to the kitchen for my ice cream and some one-on-one with Hank King. That man has me all in a tither.” She was hurrying back to the kitchen before Loretta could say a word.

  “It was melting.” Travis’s voice.

  “Aren’t you the sweetest,” Margot answered, all high-pitched and breathless. “I’ll take it. And, in case you’re looking, Loretta is just around the corner.”

  For a minute, Loretta contemplated making a run for her room. Stop it. Now that she’d told Margot she would take the deal with Wheelhouse, she couldn’t run away and hide every time Travis King showed up and sent her heart rate skyrocketing.

  She stood her ground, pretending to find the chandelier riveting, as the echo of his footsteps drew closer. If she did a mental review of all the things she found…distracting, maybe she wouldn’t be overwhelmed when he showed up in person.

  The model-perfect hair. Mediterranean-blue eyes. If that wasn’t a color, it should be because that was exactly the color of Travis King’s eyes. Then there were all the different and equally devastating array of smiles. Plus…the body. The rock-hard, unyielding body she’d been pressed against for far too short a time in the hallway of the MGM Grand Garden Arena. And even though his ass fell under the body category, it was certainly worthy of appreciating on its own. All of those things—together—sort of… Has me all in a tither.

  But now that she’d dismantled all the things that derailed her, she was prepared. Now that his boots had stopped and he was right beside her, she was perfectly capable of not getting doe-eyed and flustered by him simply…being.

  “I don’t get it either.” He was right next to her. “Why does a chandelier need chain mail?”

  Chain mail? He surprised her so much that she laughed. “Is that what it is?”

  “I have no idea.” There was a smile in his voice.

  She looked up at him now, one hundred percent prepared… Nope. Not at all. It hadn’t worked. Not in the least. Especially not now that he was staring down at her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his smile fading.

  “Why is something wrong?” Other than the fact that I just snapped at you, of course.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” His brows rose. “The scowl. The tone. The general fuck-off attitude.”

  “I told Margot yes—to the Wheelhouse deal.” She swallowed, watching him closely.

  “You did?” Why did he have to sound so happy about it? Now he was smiling. A smile that lit up his whole face. It gave him a dimple. Crinkled the corners of his eyes. And ignited a throb low down and deep inside of her. “But…you’re not at all happy about it.”

  “I am.” Stop yelling at him. “I’m very happy.”

  He laughed. “I see that.”

  “I do have concerns.” She cleared her throat. “And, since we’re going to be working together, I think we need to be up front with each other, from the get-go.”

  “I agree.” His gaze swept over her face. “What sort of concerns?”

  “You.” And me. “Me…” Wanting you. “I’m concerned…”

  “About you and me performing?” His voice lowered. “Or me and you?”

  She nodded.

  “Which?” He stepped closer.

  “Me and you.” She swallowed. “And since we’re being up front, I’m just going to say it. This tension, between us, is distracting. I…I’m wondering if it wouldn’t be easier for the two of us to sleep together.” She swallowed again. “Not sleep. Sex. Obviously, I mean sex.”

  Travis remained silent and still, not so much as an eye blink.

  “If we can agree that this is just a one-night sort of thing to clear the air so we can stop fantasizing about each other…and move on.”

  He hadn’t so much as twitched.

  “Travis?” Her throat felt tight and her mouth dry. “Please tell me you heard what I said so I don’t have to repeat it.”

  “Mostly.” He drew in a ragged breath. “I think. But that last bit? What did you say? Stop something? Before moving on?”

  “Stop fantasizing about each other?”

  He was smiling then. A totally new smile. The sort that brought her heart to a momentary standstill before jump-starting it straight into the speed-of-light range.

  “You heard me the first time?” she whispered.

  “I heard you.” He closed the gap between them. “But I liked hearing you say it so much I wanted you to say it again.”

  She was adrift in those Mediterranean-blue eyes—weightless, yearning, floating, and in no need of rescue. When his fingers ran along her lower lip, she shuddered. Rescue was the last thing she wanted.

  Chapter 8

  The throat-clearing was almost desperate. A definite signal versus a I-need-to-clear-my-throat sort of thing. Until then, Loretta hadn’t thought her heart could go any faster. She’d been wrong.

  Jumping three feet away from Travis probably didn’t make things look any better, but that’s exactly what she did.

  “I was…” Sawyer broke off, mumbling, before turning on his heel and heading the opposite direction.

  “Those were some lightning-fast reflexes,” Travis said, looking far too amused.

&nb
sp; She tried to glare but ended up smiling. “I live alone. All these people around, all the time, have me on edge.” Plus, he’d been touching her. And she’d been reacting. Aching. So much… Surely this was something they’d want to keep between them. At least, it was something she wanted to keep between them.

  “I can imagine.” Travis raked his fingers through his hair, but those mesmerizing eyes of his never left her face.

  She was having a hard time bringing her heart rate down. “If you’re expecting me to be able to go back into the kitchen, you’re going to have to not do that.”

  “What?” he asked, his attention wandering to her mouth.

  “That.” The word was harsh and broken.

  “I say we don’t go back to the kitchen and put all our energy into your plan.” The corner of his mouth ticked up, but it was the slight flare of his nostril that made the hollow ache inside warm.

  “I appreciate your dedication—”

  “I’m a very dedicated man.” He smiled. “Especially when it’s something I believe in.”

  “Travis.” She wasn’t sure what to say, but if he kept going the whole normal heart rate, normal breathing thing wasn’t going to happen.

  “Loretta?”

  “Stop staring at my mouth,” she whispered.

  “Okay.” His gaze didn’t move.

  “Travis—”

  “I’m almost done.” He held up his finger, nodded, and scrubbed a hand over his face. “See, I can behave.”

  She was beginning to doubt that. “Thank you.”

  He shook his head. “This is going to be one hell of a long night.”

  Her breath caught as a dozen tantalizing images popped up. All of them more exciting than the last. She was in favor of a very long night. The longer the better.

  “In the kitchen. With my family.” He chuckled, once more devouring her lips with his eyes. “The place we should get back to before people start wondering where we are.” He cleared his throat. “You should go ahead. I’m going to need a minute to calm down. Or go find a bucket of cold water.”

  Don’t look. Don’t look. But, she looked—her gaze dipping from the way his thin T-shirt skimmed over every edge and contour of his chest and abdomen to the cling of his jeans. If she’d had any doubts about his level of attraction, that was no longer the case. She couldn’t look away—she couldn’t stop smiling. And she was, smiling. Because that, all of that, was for her.