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“Are you kidding me? She’s got that.” Travis pointed at Jace. “Young and, according to the thousands of women screaming his name, a stud. And everyone is supposed to believe she’d rather have balding Santa? Who’s gonna buy that?”
Jace was too raw to find the humor in the situation. He was figuring Travis out, and like Krystal, Travis used humor to defuse awkward situations. Better than blowing up again… The hangover would probably keep him in check. Hard to get all fired up and hostile when any and all movement was a challenge.
“He brought up the past.” Krystal sat again, the oversized black-and-white love seat making her look tiny and, banged up like she was, fragile.
“Hold on.” Travis held up his pointer finger. “I need to down a cup of coffee before anyone says another word. Maybe two.”
Jace wanted to know. Sort of. If he was going to get his act together before Molly Harper arrived, he needed to know everything there was to know—no surprises.
“There’s a pot.” Emmy pointed. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m guessing Travis filled you in?” Krystal asked, that flat voice again. He didn’t like it. Didn’t like not being able to take her hand. “You can sit, if you want.” She was staring at him again, nibbling the inside of her lip.
Fine, if she wanted him to sit, he’d sit. Beside her. He sat close enough that their thighs were pressed together, touching. She stared down at their legs but didn’t move. Even though there was plenty of room to move. It helped him. Maybe, hopefully, it helped her, too.
Clementine, tail wagging, ran back and forth across their laps before flopping down and rolling over, belly exposed. That’s right, Clem, make your mommy smile.
She did. “Shameless.” Krystal gave her canine baby a good tummy rub.
“Okay.” Travis reached for a muffin. “Go.”
Between the throb behind his eyes and the tension rolling off Hank King, Jace braced himself. Until last night, he’d thought of Tig Whitman as a pioneer. An advocate for artists and musicians. Now his name stirred a visceral reaction he wasn’t quite comfortable with. He wasn’t normally quick to anger. Then again, there was nothing normal about this situation.
“He says Krystal was infatuated with him when she was young—that’s why her mother and I sent her away. To get help for her unhealthy attachment to him.” Hank crossed the room and stared out one of the windows overlooking their sprawling ranch. “He’s the biggest chickenshit I’ve ever met in my life, but he’s not stupid.”
Just when Jace thought his headache was easing, it did a full one eighty, leaving him worse off than before.
“That shit.” Travis paused, shocked. “Mother fu—”
“Enough with that word.” Emmy shoved a muffin in his mouth. “You have a vocabulary. Use it. After you’ve swallowed.”
Jace laughed, thrown by Emmy’s outburst. For Emmy, shoving a muffin in her brother’s mouth counted as an outburst. Her efforts to be her normal chipper self were valiant, but no one was fooled. None of them were okay. How could they be? Last night changed the world for them. Today would change everyone else’s. And it was just beginning.
Jace shook his head. “What you’re doing? It’s the right thing. That’s all you need to remember. Not everyone is going to be able to accept it—but you know the truth.”
“He’s right.” Her father turned. “No matter what, Krystal, we’re seeing this to the end. No more hiding.”
“Glad to see you’ve finally figured that out.” Travis stood, stretching, shoving another muffin in his mouth.
Hank’s posture dropped. “What I did—”
“What you didn’t do,” Travis corrected.
Hank nodded. “It was wrong.”
“Wrong?” Travis shook his head. “Daddy, you and Momma and Tig? Might as well have done the same thing. Betraying her.” He was getting angry now, his cheeks going red. “How she could stand to look at you, every day, smile and hug you and act like you loved her when you knew what happened. Knew and did nothing.”
Jace was heartbroken for Hank King, but Travis was right.
“Travis.” Krystal was up, standing between her father and her brother. “If we fall apart, our family, that’s on me. Whether or not that makes sense to you, it’s true. This is on me. My fault.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m the reason this is happening. Don’t make me regret coming forward with this, please. Don’t make me the bad guy here.”
Her words were enough to break Hank King. He moved quickly, grabbing his daughter and pulling her into his arms, cradling her against him. “No, baby girl. None o
f this is your fault, you hear me? This is on me and your mother. We didn’t listen—sent you away. And then you stopped talking. We did that to you. Left you alone when you needed us most.” His voice broke then, and he was crying.
Krystal was sobbing. “Daddy.”
Emmy grabbed Travis’s arm and started tugging him to the door.
