When Roses Collide

Chapter Fifty-Seven

"Travis?" Ethan kicked him soundly in the butt with toe of his boot. "Mind telling us what the hell is going on? Because, frankly, I'm about to let him knock your dick in the dirt."

Travis let out a heavy sigh. "Nothing is going on." Setting his bottle on the porch, he stood to face Bo. "She's not pregnant. Dr. Archer made that perfectly clear yesterday. You can call him yourself if you don't believe me."

Bo's forehead puckered into a frown. "Then why is she acting all upset? Did you two break up?"

The glimmer of hope in his eyes, and the slight twitch of a smile on his hard face as he said it made Travis want to introduce his fist to his face.

"No," he gritted out through clenched teeth. "We did not break up."

"Then what's the problem? She's walking around with that bottom lip of hers hanging out so far, I'm surprised she hasn't tripped over it."

Damn. Travis's shoulders dropped, and he sat back down dejectedly on the porch. It killed him to know she was upset, but fuck if he knew what to say to make her feel better. He wasn't even certain what the hell the matter with him was. As soon as the Doc had told him she wasn't pregnant, something inside of him deflated.

"I think you'd better grab a beer. I have a sinking suspicion feelings are about to be discussed." Butch pulled a bottle out of the cooler on the porch, and handed it to Bo.

"Fuck me. If things are going to get all sensitive and shit, then you had better make it two. I need to chug the first one to dull the pain."

An awkward silence stretched out between them only being broken up by the occasional tweet of a bird or long, drawn out moo of a distant cow.

"I bet she dumped him," Butch finally drawled, breaking the tension.

"Could be, but I'm guessing he opened his big fat mouth and stuck his ass in it like he normally does." Ethan tipped his longneck towards Travis's hunched shoulders.

"Naw, that can't be it." Bo's eyes passed over Travis in a critical onceover as he sat sprawled out on a rocker, obviously deciding to make himself at home. "He's not limping. Giving the way my baby girl is acting, if he had said something that stupid, he'd definitely wouldn't be standing upright." He gave a sage nod of his head. "Trust me, I taught that girl right. If he'd insulted her, Princess over there would be singing soprano in the shower for the next few years." He raised his beer and took a long draw.

"You know, I'm sitting right here," Travis grumbled, getting up to his feet, his eyes laser focusing on all three of them in hopes they would shut the hell up.

"Kind of hard to avoid you," Ethan lazily opened one eye. "You're blocking my sunlight."

"By all means, don't let me get in the way of you getting your tan." Travis stepped to the side and knocked Ethan's boots off the railing making him have to dive to catch his beer he had precariously balanced on his knee.

"You jack-wang," Ethan grouched, wiping the spillage off on the thigh of his pants. "I should arrest you for alcohol abuse."

"You could, but why break the habit of being a slacker."

Ethan chuckled. "Awe, what happened? Did you spend all those years wishing for a big dick and instead you became one?"

"Come on, Ethan. Can't you see he's all upset and shit? This kind of situation takes a little bit of finesse and understanding," Butch said. Raising his beer up in the air, he cleared his throat. "Roses are red. Violets are blue. Garbage is dumped, and so were you. Now stop acting like such a pussy."