Song for a Cowboy (Kings of Country 2)

“Molly, that’s very sweet of you.” Emmy Lou’s voice faltered, drawing Brock’s gaze. She was blushing. All pink cheeked and so damn pretty he couldn’t look away. “Thank you for having us,” Emmy Lou chirped, undeniably cheerful.

He forced his gaze back to the Alamo print. “Good to be here, Molly.” He smiled. I can do this.

“You two are here today to share the Drug Free Like Me program, is that correct?” Molly asked. “Brock, you’ve been working with the organization for some time. Can you share what you like best about working with the group?”

If he focused on the charity, the answers were easy enough. He and Emmy Lou had done enough interviews to present an entertaining volley of answers. Emmy was having a hard time looking at him, but she was so damn charming, chances were he was the only one who noticed anything was off between them. Molly did ask about tomorrow’s home game and what he thought their chances were.

“Are we going to win?” He smiled. “Yes. Of course. Without a doubt.”

“Kind of hard to doubt you with that kind of confidence.” Molly laughed. “And, Emmy Lou, you’re singing at this halftime?”

She nodded. “The Ameri

can Football League asked me to, yes. It’s to honor the passing of one of their legendary coaches. I’m proud to do it. And as everyone knows, I’m a Roughnecks fan.”

Brock glanced her way—about the same time she looked at him.

“I guess we will see how the game goes. Good luck out there, you two. Hopefully there won’t be any more kittens getting in the way.” Molly smiled. “But if there are, we know the two of you have things covered.”

The audience laughed, severing the connection between Brock and Emmy Lou. His chest hurt, the pressure continuing to build as the cameras cut away and a stage tech removed his mic.

If he didn’t move, he’d probably make an ass of himself right there.

It didn’t help that Emmy Lou had them pose for a selfie. He did it, knowing full well it would be posted and tweeted all over. Hopefully it would draw attention to Drug Free Like Me—and distract from the whole Vanessa and Mark Hammond drama.

Emmy Lou, and the King family, made a point of ignoring him. And since his hands were tied, there was no point sticking around. He stormed down the hall, pushed through the door, and headed for his truck. He was home within ten minutes. He shoved his next meal into the oven and turned on his stationary bike. Burning off steam was a necessity.

He was sitting down to his meal when the doorbell rang.

Sawyer stood there, arms crossed, his emotionless-as-fuck expression irritating the shit out of Brock.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Brock snapped. The front gate guy needed to start looking for a new job.

“Can I come in?” Sawyer asked. “I really don’t want to do this on your front porch.”

“Sure, why the hell not?” He stepped aside, rolling his neck. “I don’t know what this is about, but I can tell you now, for the first time in my life, I’d be okay throwing a few punches.”

“Duly noted.” Sawyer nodded. “I know who took the pictures.”

Brock stared at him. “What?”

“CiCi King’s personal bodyguard was fired a few days ago. I feel confident it was over those pictures. I’m not sure if he wanted hush money or what, but it looks like he ended up selling copies to Entertainment Monthly.” Sawyer stared around him. “If CiCi King isn’t careful, he’ll sell a whole lot of information, regardless of the NDA we all have to sign.”

Brock blew out a slow deep breath. “You’re telling me CiCi King sent her bodyguard here to watch me, then fired him over those fucking pictures?”

Sawyer nodded.

“He told you this?”

“He was pretty upset over losing his job. I took him out for a few drinks, asked the right questions, learned what I needed to learn.” He stared at Brock. “I don’t think she’d ever planned on them going public. She probably was going to send them to you to warn you away or to Emmy Lou.”

“For fuck’s sake.” He ran his hands through his hair. “What the hell does she have against me? No. Forget that. I don’t give a damn about CiCi King.” He sat, staring at the rug. “But Emmy Lou needs to get out of there. You’re supposed to protect her, right? Well, that place isn’t safe. I want her safe.”

Sawyer nodded, his gaze narrowing. “I figured as much.”

“Why are you here?” He sat back.

Sawyer sat, eyeing the mountain of food on the table. “There are a few things I thought you’d want to know.”