Chapter Four
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TRAVIS WAITED IN the brightly lit lobby at six, anxiously checking his watch. It wasn’t that he was necessarily excited about the charity event; they really were boring. It was the knowledge that he would have Gemma by his side all evening, dancing with her and introducing her to people, that was making it impossible for him to relax and wait patiently.
He’d been thinking a lot since running into her, wondering if this was fate’s idea of a second chance. Maybe he hadn’t been ready ten years ago—they had both been too young to settle down—but now the timing was right.
The elevator dinged, and Gemma stepped out, her hands holding up the crinkly skirt of her creamy gown as she walked. The heart-shaped neckline and halter style of the dress showed a good portion of white skin, and Travis nearly swallowed his tongue. Her hair was pulled back loosely from her face with a rhinestone-studded hair band, and the half updo became a waterfall of brown curls around her shoulders. Her makeup was light and tasteful, but it was the smile that made her truly beautiful. Gemma’s bright, happy smile as she walked toward him, waiting for his reaction, was magical.
Stopping in front of him, she spun around. “What do you think?”
After a moment’s hesitation, he reached out to take her hands in his, bringing them up to kiss her knuckles. Staring into her eyes, he said, “You’re gorgeous, Gem.”
Cheeks turning pink, she protested, “It’s the dress. And the hair and makeup. They did such a good job . . . .”
She stopped talking when he pulled her against him and kissed her, not caring who saw. When he drew back, he held up a black square jewelry box. “Here.”
“What is this?” she asked, taking the box hesitantly.
“A thank-you.”
She gave him an exasperated look as she opened it. “Travis, you already paid for my hair and . . . oh!” She stared down, and he smiled as she pulled the teardrop-shaped diamond necklace from the box.
He took it from her and unclasped it. “I thought you might like it.”
“I can’t accept this,” Gemma said, putting her hand over his. “It’s too much.”
“No, it’s not,” he said, slipping it around her neck. Once it was secure, he slid the clasp up to hide it under her curls. “There. Just enough.”
Her hand reached up to cover it and her mouth opened, but he caught her protest with a kiss.
Releasing her mouth slowly, he said, “And it’s you, Gem. It’s not the dress or the makeup, it’s you.” Taking her hand, he set it on his sleeve and said, “We should probably get going before I forget myself and take you back upstairs.”
To his surprise, she snorted. “Not on your life, pal. I’m running on five hours of sleep and enough caffeine to keep an elephant awake, and it took me three hours to get ready. We are going to this party.”
Biting back a grin, he said, “Whatever you want, Cinderella. I’m at your disposal.”
GEMMA HAD TRIED to avoid the line of reporters outside, snapping photographs, and had been thankful when Travis had introduced her to the owner of the hotel, Callum O’Shea. Callum had helped her bypass the paparazzi and come in the back way, while Travis had strutted his stuff.
The first thing she’d asked when they’d made it inside was where the bar was. Callum, who was in his early thirties and very handsome, with an Irish brogue and laughing green eyes, had snagged a couple of glasses of champagne, and they’d made small talk until Travis had joined them, his arms snaking around her waist. There were several more photographers inside. Every once in a while Gemma caught a flash, and her stomach tightened.
This is a public event, being covered by newspapers and magazines. I might as well just do my best to have a good time.
They’d sat down for dinner, and Gemma had choked when she’d learned how much her plate of half-eaten rosemary chicken had cost. She hadn’t been very hungry—her nerves were too shot—but the champagne helped take the edge off.
After dinner, Gemma had gripped Travis’s arm tightly as he led her around the large ballroom, introducing her to various celebrities and people she’d never heard of but who were, apparently, CEOs of some very important companies. Callum had introduced Travis and Gemma to his friends, Jake Warren—who owned a multimillion-dollar online dating site, TheLastFirstKiss.com—and Jesse Prince. Gemma recognized Jesse, who was the quarterback of the Boise Grizzlies, Idaho’s professional football team. Once she told him she was from Rock Canyon, it had opened up the conversation to places in the area to hike. Gemma had never been much for outdoorsy things, but she had enough friends who did to know where to go.
A waiter walked by with a tray of glasses and she grabbed one, trying to be discreet as she gulped down the contents. She felt like a fish out of water and needed a little more liquid courage to calm down.
While Travis talked to Callum about Ireland, he slipped his hand from the small of her back to take her hand, intertwining their fingers naturally. Gemma smiled at Travis, and the heat in his eyes caused her breath to catch in her throat.
“So, what are y’all talking about?”
Gemma glanced over at a thin blonde who had her eyes trained on Travis.
“Hello, Chelsey,” Travis said coldly, and the bottom of Gemma’s stomach dropped.
Chelsey Cooper was a newer country singer who catered to the crossover pop/country that the younger generation seemed to enjoy. Gemma liked a few of her songs, but some of her whinier stuff was grating.
“Who’s your friend, Travis?” Chelsey’s dark eyes narrowed as they fell on Travis and Gemma’s clasped hands. She looked amazing in a strapless black dress that ended just above her knees and fit like a second skin. Gemma had to bite back a wave of jealousy.
She’s probably one of those girls who can eat whatever she wants and not gain a pound.
Travis squeezed her hand. “This is my old friend, Gemma. Gemma, this is my opener, Chelsey Cooper.”
“Oh, come on, you make it sound like we don’t even like each other,” Chelsey said, her tone warm and suggestive. It was obvious something was going on between the two of them. “I have to say, that’s a very pretty dress,” she said to Gemma, taking a sip from her glass. “So, old friend, how well do you know Travis?”
Gemma tried to keep her hackles from rising at the woman’s snide tone. “We were friends in high school.”
Chelsey leaned close to Gemma and lowered her voice. “We’re not talking just friends, are we, honey?”
Gemma could smell the alcohol on Chelsey’s breath and decided to try to excuse her behavior. “Just between us girls, your mascara is running.”
Chelsey opened her mouth to say something else, but Jake Warren jumped in and took her hand. “Why don’t we move over to the bar and get a drink? We can see where things take us.”
Gemma noticed Chelsey’s eyes straying to Travis again, but he had already turned back to his conversation with Callum. Gemma almost felt sorry for the woman, remembering what it was like to be in love with Travis but never think she had a chance with him. Chelsey caught Gemma watching her and, with a glare, let Jake lead her toward the bar. Gemma’s compassion dissolved.
“So, what do you think of Redfish Lake? Good camping up there?”
Jesse’s voice broke into Gemma’s dark thoughts, and she smiled as she answered. “It’s beautiful. You definitely want to stay there a few days and explore, but I would take some bear mace.”
Jesse laughed, and Gemma tried not to think about what might have happened between Chelsey and Travis. Grabbing another glass of champagne, she tipped it back, emptying its contents. She wasn’t a big drinker, but she didn’t have a problem slamming a few back when out with friends. It was amazing the affects alcohol could have on a person; some became belligerent a*sholes, others giggly clingers, and—
“Excuse me, gentleman, but I believe I owe this lady a dance,” Travis said, taking her glass and setting it on a passing tray before leading her over to the stage, where a band was playing. When the singer leaned over, Travis whispered to him, too low for her to hear.
“What are you up to?” Gemma asked as he twirled her onto the wooden dance floor.
“Nothing. You just looked like you could use a dance, and I wanted to hold you close.”
Snorting, she almost asked Travis about Chelsey but decided it was none of her business and let it go. He slowly swayed her back and forth to the band’s version of “Amazed” by Lonestar, and Gemma smiled. “This reminds me of prom.”
“Really? Funny, I remember prom differently. First of all, I don’t see multicolored streamers or Mrs. Andrew’s marching around with her ruler, prying everyone apart.”
“Hmm, I just mean this: holding you. Dancing with you. It was one of the best nights of my life,” she said.
His breath was warm against her hair as he said, “Mine, too.”
Lifting her face, their gazes locked. “Sometimes I lay awake at night and think about you, just holding me while we dance.”
“When I think of you, we’re doing a lot more than dancing,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.
“Gutter brain,” she said, but she couldn’t seem to wipe the smile from her face.
His hands swept up into her hair, cupping the back of her head. “I’ve never been able to shake you, Gemma. No matter whom I was dating, or what I was doing, something always reminded me of you.”
Heart pounding, she whispered, “I can’t shake you either, Trav.”
Travis dipped his head, kissing her, and for a moment she forgot about the cameras, the past, and every reason why what they were doing spelled nothing but heartache and trouble. She gave herself over to Travis’s kiss as the music changed. The melody to “Hazel Eyes” played over the speakers, slow and hauntingly familiar, and Gemma was transported back in time again, to sitting in her bedroom on a hot July day, watching Travis strum on his guitar. Any time Travis played for her, she felt like she was the only girl in the world, and the lyrics brought tears to her eyes. When he’d finished, he’d set down the guitar against the bed and whispered, “I love you, Gem.”
It was like time had stilled and the earth had stopped turning as he’d reached out to pull her up onto his lap. She’d been embarrassed, worried her weight was hurting him, but he’d just cradled her cheeks in his hands and brought her mouth to his in the sweetest kiss she’d ever had.
Suddenly, she was back in a crowded ballroom as Travis’s mouth rested against her ear and he softly sang:
“Hazel eyes, you know you had me from the start,
You looked at me and I gave you my heart,
And as long as I live, I can’t thank you enough,
For your strength and your love, Hazel eyes.”
Teary-eyed, she listened to him, his low baritone sending shivers of awareness down her spine, and she cuddled closer, so close that even if Mrs. Andrews had been there, it wouldn’t have mattered. Nothing was getting between her and Travis tonight. Nothing.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Travis almost agreed with Gemma; the gala had turned into something a lot like prom. Well, except for the alcohol. Somewhere between their second dance and their fifth, a drinking challenge had ensued. He’d never seen Gemma drink before, but as she tossed back another fifth of whiskey with a wheeze, he couldn’t stop laughing. That drink had been preceded by three others for each of them, and now Travis had a good buzz on.
As they danced to Josh Turner’s “Your Man,” Travis twirled her out and back in, and she landed hard against him.
“Oomph. I’m sorry. I’ve had a wee too much.”
Travis laughed. “And a wee too much conversation with Callum, I think.”
“He does have a lovely accent. I could listen to him speak for hours,” she said dreamily.
“Perhaps it was a mistake introducing the two of you,” Travis teased with a mock scowl.
The smile she gave him was pure mischief, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I said I liked his voice, not him. Well, not like that; I like him as a person, but not like in a romantic way.” Looking up through her lashes, she said, “You, however, I like a whole lot. I get all kinds of happy feelings when I’m with you.”
Now he could hear a lot more of that. “You know, I’m kind of hungry. Wanna get out of here?”
“Yes, I’m starving. I had a hard time eating earlier.”
“Why? You didn’t like the food?”
“I was just nervous,” she said, leaning her chin on his chest as she smiled up at him. “Now all I care about is food and you. Naked.”
A surprised chuckle escaped him as he took her hand and guided her through the crowd and out of O’Shea’s main ballroom. Passing by the conference room, Travis pointed to the sign outside. “Lovers of Romance Kiss Awards. Isn’t that the thing you’re here for?”
Gemma nodded. “Yep. I wanted to see if my favorite author would win. She writes Regency romances. I love the language and mannerisms of Regency England. So formal and romantic, don’t you think?”
“I really wouldn’t know,” he said, steadying her by the elbow.
What in the hell is Regency? Is that like lords and ladies crap?
“Why is the jewelry store open?” she asked suddenly, and he saw her hands drift down to the pretty teardrop diamond around her neck.
“Not for taking back your necklace, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said.
Her hand dropped and she gave him a dark look. “It was too much.”
Stopping to kiss her upturned nose, he said, “No it wasn’t.”
“Mmm, yes it was, but it’s still beautiful,” she said.
“Okay, so come on. The night is young, we’re in the city that doesn’t sleep—”
“Pretty sure that’s New York,” Gemma interrupted as they passed the big fountain in the lobby.
“Okay, fine, but still, nothing closes here. So, what do you want to do? We could grab food and do some gambling, take a limo ride around the city—”
“You have a limo?” Gemma asked, her voice squeaky with excitement.
“Well, I can get one,” he said, grinning.
“I’ve never been in one before,” she said as they walked out of the front doors.
Shrugging out of his suit jacket, he laid it across her shoulders. “Stay right here. I’ll be back.”
Walking away with a grin, he went to talk to the concierge.