Song for a Cowboy (Kings of Country 2)

That did it all right. That

, right there, was the pickup he needed. It felt good. Maybe a little too good. “Well, damn.” He ran his fingers over his jaw, fighting the urge to laugh. “Poor kid.” But then he was laughing, hard. Ricky Ames might play hard, but Brock Watson wasn’t a quitter. “Game on.”

Chapter 9

“Who went to the store last?” Krystal was staring into the pantry. “Why do we have nine boxes of kids’ cereal?”

“I think Travis did one of those online orders.” Emmy Lou sat at the scrubbed plank kitchen table and propped herself up on her elbow. “Probably while drunk. Or getting drunk. Or…” She stopped talking as Krystal emerged, balancing three huge boxes of cereal. “You’re not planning to eat that, are you?”

“Yep.” She retrieved a bowl and spoon and milk, then sat opposite her sister. “And if you keep up the judgy stare, I will build a protective fort with the boxes.”

Emmy Lou laughed. “No judgment.”

Krystal poured a large bowl of brightly colored, sugarcoated rings. “Whatever.” She glanced at her bowl, then Emmy. “Still doing the self-imposed hunger-strike thing?”

“Hunger strike?” She tried not to think about how yummy the cereal looked. They’d been her favorite as a child—until the day Momma had shown her a diagram about the glue-like effects of sugar at the cellular level. She’d been twelve or thirteen. Krystal had fallen asleep, but Emmy Lou had listened as Momma had rattled off the horrible things sugar would do to her body. Momma drove home how important it was for them to look their best for their fans, how selfish it was to overindulge in sweets, and how anything that tastes really good is probably bad for you. After that, her love of food got complicated. Stress made it worse. A whole cookie or piece of cake—her body rejected it. Now? She was stressed. The Guy James visit. Brock. He’d sounded mad that he wanted her. He certainly didn’t want to want her. And accusations that she was using his father for press… “Maybe I’m just not hungry right now.”

“Or ever.” Krystal spooned up a huge bite of cereal. “Not since you were like…eighteen?” Krystal could eat her weight in Red Vines without a care in the world. “Oh, this is so good.” She scooped up another bite.

The kitchen door swung open and Travis came in, yawning and rubbing a hand over his face. He took one bleary-eyed look at the table and advanced. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He reached for the cereal boxes on the table, but Krystal grabbed the Fruity-o’s box. “You can’t just raid a man’s stash, Krystal. Come on now.”

“I can if the stash is in my kitchen.” She cradled the box against her chest, took another bite of cereal, and smiled up at Travis. But Travis kept standing there, staring, until Krystal eventually snapped. “What? What is your deal, Trav?” she asked, tapping her spoon against the bowl.

“That’s my favorite kind.” He pointed at the box Krystal held.

Emmy Lou stood up, got a large bowl from the cabinet, grabbed a spoon, and put them on the table. “Give me the box.” She held her hand out, laughing now. “The box.”

Krystal sighed but handed over the box.

Emmy poured a heaping amount into the bowl, poured milk, and looked at her still-frowning brother. “Eat.” She pushed the bowl toward him. “All yours, Big Brother.”

Travis ran a hand over his face. “I didn’t want it right now.”

“You are such a child.” Krystal threw a fruity cereal O at him.

“Really?” Emmy Lou shook her head. “Just eat.”

“You eat it,” Travis argued. “I just want coffee.” Another yawn. “You need it more than I do, anyway.”

Emmy Lou shook her head and took a sip of her tea. “Would you both stop? I came down here for peace and quiet and tea.”

“Peace? In this house?” Krystal shot her a look of pure disbelief. “Might as well get over that and, you know, eat something with your tea. If I were you, I’d eat Trav’s. The whole box.”

“No thanks. I’m not hungry.” Emmy Lou picked up her cup and turned to leave.

“Wait, Em, I’m sorry.” Krystal pleaded. “I’ll stop. Please stay. Please. We haven’t had breakfast together in so long—”

“Because you’ve shacked up with your boy toy.” Travis sat, picked up the spoon, and started eating. “Why are you even here eating my cereal…? Right, Momma’s got that retreat thing today.” He kept right on munching. “Still, you and Jace need to get your own cereal. Keep your mitts off mine.”

Krystal was ready to launch another O at their brother but caught Emmy watching her and held her hands up. “See? I’m being good.”

How long would that last? Her twin’s smile was so mischievous that Emmy had no choice but to smile back.

Travis scooped up a bite. “So…I’ve been looking at apartments. To keep my cereal safe.”

Emmy Lou stared at him. This was news to her. Not necessarily good news. She’d still see her siblings on the road, but she missed this. Lazy mornings full of laughter and teasing and cereal throwing without the time constraints and exhaustion of a touring schedule.

“You can’t do that.” Krystal threw a piece of cereal at him. “Spill.”