Broken Strings

Twenty-One

But the lightness faded instantly as a familiar voice called, "Travis?"

Both Travis and Brock turned towards the voice but it was Travis' stomach that sank instantly. His mouth went dry, his palms beginning to sweat, as Sam Kline made his way across the parking lot. They hadn't seen each other since that night in Austin where Travis had followed Sam into his room and while it was only weeks, it felt like years had passed since that night.

"Hey, Sam," Travis said and he hoped his voice didn't betray him.

A part of him leapt at seeing Sam but this time, more than ever, it was outweighed by shame. He just hoped that Brock didn't pick up on any of the awkwardness that was sure to follow.

"How are you?" Sam asked, his brown eyes bright as he stared into Travis' face.

"Good, good." Travis swallowed thickly and then realized that Brock was standing silently a foot away, his eyes intent upon Sam's face like he was figuring out a complex puzzle. "Uh, this is—"

Travis stopped because while everyone might know that Bailey Grant was his sister and likely to be here today, broadcasting Brock Mason to the world didn't exactly seem like his call.

Brock looked over at him and smiled a little as if noticing Travis' hesitation. He extended a hand toward Sam. "Brock Mason."

Sam shook the offered hand and then his blond brow lifted delicately. "Brock Mason? Aren't you the guy from that band? God, what was the name..."

"Tallahassee?"

"That's it."

"Yes, I am indeed one of the guys from that band." Brock stressed the one and it wasn't hard to guess why. Getting mixed up with Trace Strickland was probably the last thing that any guy wanted to do right now.

"No shit." Sam laughed, his blond hair catching in the slight breeze. "Nice to meet you, man. Let me guess, you're here working with his sister, right?"

Brock nodded. "Yup."

"Figured. Travis always says that these big hotshot musicians are cycling through his town but I thought it was just a load of crap."

Travis felt a jolt pierce his heart. He'd never lied to Sam. In fact, Sam was the only person Travis was entirely truthful with. The fact that he'd think that Travis was just pulling his leg...

It didn't sit right.

"Well, I can't speak for any others but I believe it. Bailey's got a great setup here and Tishomingo...it's a great place. And Travis has been an awesome tour guide. He's been showing me around."

"Is that so?"

Brock shrugged. "Yeah. He's got a, uh, very welcoming personality."

"Right." Sam turned away, looking back at Travis with a hint of disappointment on his face as if he'd been hoping for more celebrity gossip to fall from Brock's mouth. "You free tonight?"

"Huh?"

"A few of the other guys on the circuit were talking about grabbing a drink after the events today. You in?"

Travis didn't think that Brock would pick up on Sam's clear double meaning, referring to their standing meet-up after rodeos, but he stared back with a frown, trying to guess Sam's game. They'd made the decision ages ago to not land in each other's bed when they were in home territory. Their engagements were only meant for shadowy motels, not comfortable mattresses and carefully selected sheets. Not when either of their families was only a stone's throw away.