Chapter Seven
* * *
GEMMA STOPPED OFF in Winnemucca, Nevada, to fill up her tank and grab an Egg McMuffin. She usually tried to stay away from junk food, but she was starving and needed comfort food.
Her phone rang while she was in the drive-through and she picked it up reluctantly. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, honey. I was calling to see how Charlie was liking camp.”
Gemma tried not to think too harshly about her mom, but it seemed as if whenever she called, they talked about Charlie and what he was up to, and that was it. She never asked how Gemma was doing. Gemma had had a strained relationship with her mother over the last few years.
I guess she assumes I can take care of myself.
“So far, so good.”
“Good. Is he making friends?”
Cupping the cell against her cheek, she handed the drive-through clerk her debit card. “He said he was. You know how social he is.”
“Yes, he is quite the ham,” her mother said, sounding amused.
The girl handed Gemma her coffee and bag of food, and she whispered, “Thank you.”
“Who are you talking to?” her mother asked.
“I’m in a drive-through, Mom.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry to bother you. Are you on your way home?”
“You aren’t bothering me—”
“You shouldn’t talk on the phone and drive anyway. Call me when you make it home. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” she said, and realized the call had ended. She pulled into a parking space and ate her food; she only went inside to eat at sit-down restaurants. Gracie called her a weirdo, but Gemma always felt awkward, especially when she was alone.
She thought about calling Gracie. It was ten o’clock in Rock Canyon, an hour ahead, and everyone was probably in church. Still, she pulled out her phone and dialed her friend’s number.
“Are you finally coming home?”
Gemma laughed. “Yep. I’m in Winnemucca right now. Just filling up, getting some food, and I’ll be home.”
“Did you have fun? Meet any hot guys? Do anything besides reading and being boring?”
“Gee, thanks. You’re a peach.”
“Seriously, tell me what happened,” Gracie said.
I saw Travis; we had wild, crazy sex. And got married.
“I stayed in my hotel room, read all my free books, and took a lot of baths. No guys, no booze, nothing,” Gemma lied.
“Ugh, you make me crazy! You’re next on my matchmaking list, mark my words!”
Gemma, wanting off the subject, said, “How’s Eric?”
“Shut up,” Gracie snapped. “For the last time, there is nothing going on between me and that Neanderthal.”
Gemma grinned. No matter how much she denied it, Gemma knew that something was up with them. Gracie and Eric Henderson couldn’t be in the same room together without sparks flying, and after last Valentine’s Day . . . well, even if Gracie wouldn’t comment on it, speculation still ran rampant.
“I tell you what: You leave me alone about my love life and I’ll leave you alone. Fair?”
“Whatever; just get home. I want someone to hang out with, and Michael refuses to watch anything with Sandra Bullock in it.”
“I’ll be there soon,” Gemma promised.
“Be safe. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” Gemma hung up the phone, feeling guilty. She never lied to Gracie; there was no need. With Gracie, it was always a judgment-free zone, but deep down, she knew Gracie thought she should have told Travis about Charlie years ago. If she explained what had happened to Gracie, and that she still hadn’t told him, she had a feeling Gracie would flip her lid.
For the first time in ten years, she’d been self-interested and forgotten how her actions could hurt others. Especially her nine-year-old son.
Starting the car, she pulled out onto the two-lane road that led to Interstate 80. As she looked around the bareness of Nevada, everything she had to feel guilty about made her want to find a cave, crawl inside, and stay there.
And then there was Travis. Her eyes filled with tears, blurring her vision, and she reached up to wipe them away. She had been stupid and selfish, thinking, if only for a moment, that she could have him and her life in Rock Canyon, too. He wanted to travel and perform, go to charity events and award shows. He wanted to be fawned over by millions of fans and stay on the road for months at a time. She wasn’t up for any of that. The only thing she could do was walk away, again.
And to be honest, perhaps she was a little more than terrified of what he’d say if he finally knew about Charlie. How do you tell someone you once loved that you’d kept something so important from them? When was the right time to finally say, “Oh, by the way, I was pregnant when you left, and now we have a nine-year-old son. Surprise!”
Simple answer: there wasn’t a right time. Travis would never forgive her for it, and she couldn’t blame him. Even though part of her still believed she’d made the right decision at the time, the other part was shaking its head in disapproval.
And last, Charlie, her biggest joy, the one person for whom she would give her life. If he found out she’d not only seen his dad but had married Travis and still not told him, she might lose her baby, too. She’d never lied to him before, but keeping her weekend with Travis to herself was really for his own good.
And hers.
At least that’s what she was trying to tell herself.
GEMMA WOKE UP in her own bed the next morning, still feeling hung over. Of course, that could have been because Gracie had been waiting for her in her kitchen with a bottle of red wine—that Gemma had hardly touched—and hadn’t left until way after midnight. Gemma hadn’t brought up Travis, still hoping he would take her up on her offer of a quiet annulment so no one would ever know what an idiot she was.
She got out of bed, dislodging her cat, Penny, who was sleeping on her back. The cat meowed at her, her eyes hardly opening, before curling up again on the quilt. Gemma showered and dressed, picking a simple polka-dot blouse and khakis. She didn’t even bother with her contacts; her eyes were still sore from sleeping in them the other night. When she finally made it out the door after dragging her butt, she had just enough time to get to The Local Bean for a white mocha and something really bad for her. Screw it, right? She could be good tomorrow.
She took the back roads into town and got stuck behind Justin Silverton on his daddy’s tractor. He’d pulled over enough that she could pass, and she honked and waved. In a town like Rock Canyon, if you were nice to the farmers, they’d be nice to you.
As she turned left on Main Street, and then into The Local Bean’s parking lot, her mouth started watering. Today was a Parmesan cheese bagel day. Or maybe a double chocolate chip muffin?
Gemma walked into the coffee shop and smiled at Gracie as she approached the counter. “Hey, honey.”
Gracie looked up from the newspaper she was reading and waved it at Gemma. “When I find out who this nosy wench is, I’m going to bodycheck her ass.”
Considering that Gracie was just over five feet and a hundred pounds soaking wet, Gemma grinned. “Really?”
Gracie shoved the paper under her nose. “Look! The woman thrives on causing trouble, but I am telling you one thing; I will have my revenge; a slow, painful, Emily Thorne–style revenge!”
Gemma laughed and read the new Small-Town Scandals column. The gossip column had shown up a few weeks earlier, and ever since the town had been a twitter over who Miss Know It All could be.
SEXUAL TENSION MOUNTS BETWEEN A CERTAIN BROODING BARTENDER AND OUR FAVORITE BARISTA . . . AGAIN.
Just when you thought it was safe to venture out to Buck’s Shot Bar for a little fun and libation, these two are at it again! Rumors have been circulating for months about whether Eric Henderson and Gracie Lou McAllister have something going on under the radar, and after Saturday night, folks, I think we all know the answer. When Miss McAllister showed up with the town’s very H-O-T new law enforcement agent, Officer Morgan, Eric looked like he had swallowed a gallon of curdled milk and was about to blow. It only took about ten minutes before he’d pressed all of Miss McAllister’s buttons and the two were standing toe to toe. I have to say, the sexual tension was so thick, I could have grabbed a spoon and made a meal out of it. Gracie ended up leaving in a huff, Officer Morgan trailing behind her like a sad little puppy, and Eric disappeared before closing time.
All I have to say is this: they need to just come out of the closet (or storeroom), before they hurt each other. And as for Officer Morgan . . . well, the man is grade-A beefcake . . . I don’t think he’ll be lonely for long.
Gemma looked up from the paper with a raised eyebrow. “Well? Is she right?”
“Ugh!” Gracie threw up her hands and turned her back on Gemma to start making her drink. “I have told you a million times, there is nothing, I repeat nothing, between me and that great, obnoxious, infuriatingly oafish buffoon.”
“That’s quite a few adjectives,” Gemma pointed out as she eyeballed the display case, her gaze zooming in on the muffins.
Gracie whirled around and pointed a stirring stick at her. “That’s because my hate runs so deep it brings out the scholar in me.”
Gemma snorted, unimpressed by Gracie’s answer. “I wonder how she gets her information.”
“Who cares? The fact that that woman has only been active a month is terrifying. Did you know she also created a Small-Town Scandals blog online, complete with tip-mail? People can freaking slip her little tidbits of information like she’s some kind of small-town Gossip Girl!”
“Technically, she is a small-town gossip girl,” Gemma said.
“My point is, by getting her tips from everyone, she could be anyone. But she won’t be able to keep this up. Sooner or later, I will ferret her out, and she will pay for her assumptions and wild accusations!”
Gemma laughed at Gracie’s dramatics. She knew that there was more to Gracie and Eric than she was telling, but since Gracie had never been very good at keeping secrets, Gemma figured this one must be important to her, so she didn’t pry. Much.
Besides, if she doesn’t tell me about Eric, then I don’t have to tell her about Travis. Smart.
“Okay, fine, you are one smart woman and anger makes it more noticeable. Is there a medical term for that condition?” Gemma said.
Gracie finished pouring milk into a white travel cup, turned, and pointed to her apron. “Do you see this? This is why you shouldn’t mess with me yet. I haven’t had enough of either lately.”
Gemma’s eyes dropped down to Gracie’s apron of the day and she smirked. ESPRESSO SHOTS ARE LIKE MEN; THE MORE YOU HAVE, THE NICER YOU GET.
Gemma shook her head. “Oh, Gracie Lou, what am I going to do with you?”
Gracie handed her the cup and smiled. “Just love me and accept that I have no shame.”
“None.” Gemma laughed and took a sip of the hot drink, a satisfied hum escaping her lips. Gracie knew what she liked, and her order never changed. “That is fantastic.”
“Of course it is. I made it.” Suddenly, Gracie’s gaze shifted over her shoulder and her eyes bugged out. “Gemma . . .”
Gemma turned just in time to see Travis walk through the door of the coffee shop, the doorbell’s ding echoing in the unusually quiet atmosphere. His eyes locked on hers, and beneath the charming, lopsided grin, she saw a tightness around his mouth that gave away just how furious he was.
She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He approached her slowly, and with each step, her throat tightened more, cutting off her air. When he stopped in front of her, he pulled something white and lacy from his pocket.
Her missing underwear.
“Usually when Cinderella ditches the prince, she leaves behind a shoe.”
GEMMA SNATCHED THE panties from his dangling fingers and stuffed them into her purse. “What are you doing here?”
Without answering her, Travis yanked her to him hard and fast. She gasped, and he took full advantage, taking her mouth in a deep kiss. He knew it was more punishing than passionate, but when he’d looked through the window and seen her smiling like she didn’t have a care in the world, all his good intentions had flown out the window. He’d planned on stopping by her store to talk to her calmly, like a mature adult, but while he’d driven half the night and woken up to his hotel-room neighbor blaring AC/DC at the crack of dawn, she’d been here, getting back to her life. Probably thinking she was in the clear.
And just like that, he broke away from her, gently brushing his knuckle along the soft curve of her cheek. “You didn’t wait for me.”
Her mouth was open, but she didn’t seem to be able to form words. Good.
He turned his attention to Gracie and held open his arms. “Gracie Lou, don’t I get a hug?”
With her round eyes and tilted head, Gracie’s expression reminded him of a curious owl. Slowly, she came around the counter, her attention flicking back and forth between them. When she reached him, instead of giving him the hug he’d been expecting, she punched him in the gut.
Travis doubled over, more from surprise than pain. “What the hell was that for?”
“For Phoenix. And for whatever you’re doing right now.” Gracie crossed her arms over her chest and turned toward Gemma.
Travis looked between them, surprised Gemma hadn’t told Gracie about them. “I bumped into Gemma in Vegas and we—”
“It was nothing!” Gemma broke in, shooting him a warning glance.
So that’s how you thought this was gonna go?
“Really? Then why did you forget to mention running into Travis last night?” Gracie asked, crossing her arms.
Gemma’s face was red and her expression shamed. “I didn’t forget. I just didn’t mention it.”
“She also probably forgot to mention that we’re—”
Gemma’s hand clamped over his mouth, her eyes blazing at him, but beneath that he saw pleading. A niggle of concern crawled up, and Travis let her hand stay where it was. There was something more going on here; why else would Gemma keep something so big from her best friend?
Maybe she just didn’t want to look like an idiot.
“Gracie, I’ll talk to you later,” Gemma said, releasing Travis’s mouth long enough to grab his hand and drag him out the door. He let her lead him down the street, satisfied that he’d finally broken through her innocent, shocked routine. Now they could get down to an honest conversation.
She stopped in front of a red door and slipped a key into the lock. Travis took in the stenciled writing on the window: Chloe’s Book Nook. He smiled at the cartoonish calico cat that sat above the word Nook and followed her inside when she pushed the door open. A smell of books and vanilla hit his nose.
“What are you doing here, Travis?”
The rage and frustration that had been simmering below the surface of his skin started to burn and his smile disappeared. “Why wouldn’t I come here?” He turned around and faced her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re my wife. We spent a magical night together, and I just happen to have a break in my tour that allows me to spend several weeks with you.”
“I thought you would—”
“What, Gemma?” His voice was low and dark as he approached her. Grabbing her shoulders, he gave her a gentle shake. “What? You thought I’d just read your letter and be grateful? That I’d think, ‘You know what, she’s right’ and leave you alone, just disappear from your life again?”
She stopped struggling, and he could tell by her expression that that was exactly what she’d been thinking.
“This is my home, Travis. You can’t just show up here and disrupt my life,” she hissed.
“I’m not trying to disrupt your life. I just want to know why you left without talking to me. At least trying to work out what happened,” he said.
“What happened is we got drunk and did something stupid. End of story,” she said.
“No, that’s not the end of it, sweetheart,” he snapped before he could rein in his temper. “Like it or not, we’re married. It wasn’t something I planned, but that’s the way things are, and you could have at least given me the courtesy of waking me up and talking about it.”
“What’s there to talk about, Travis? We haven’t seen each other for ten years and yes, I had fun with you, but we want totally different things,” she said, sounding almost disappointed. “You and I . . . we don’t work anymore. We’re too different. Our worlds are too different.”
He took a calming breath and thought about her words. It was true that their lives were different, but that wasn’t a kill switch for a future. People called alcohol truth serum, and if he’d stood up and pledged himself to Gemma legally, deep down he must have wanted it. Which led to a whole new line of crazy he could sift through later, but right now, he needed to make her understand that he took what they’d done seriously. He wasn’t going to let her just sweep it under the rug as a drunken mistake.
Especially since it took two to say “I do.”
He had been developing his strategy over the whole drive, and he’d come up with an idea he was going to propose before he lost his cool. He needed to prove that there was more to what had happened than a wild weekend gone wrong. Gemma had said he didn’t know her; well, what better way to get to know someone than to date them?
She’d never agree to it, though, until she got over whatever had her in a panic. He needed to prove to her that it wasn’t over, not just like that. There was too much left between them for closure, or whatever her letter had said.
And he would prove it to her.
“I thought we were working really well together,” he said softly, his tone seductive. He took her hand, holding it gently when she tried to pull away and caressing the back of it with his thumb. He saw her shiver and smiled as he brought it up to his mouth, his lips hovering above her knuckles as he spoke. “When we were in your hotel room, and I had my hands on your body, running them over your skin . . . you felt so good.” She licked her lips and closed her eyes. He pulled her closer, trailing his lips from her wrist to her elbow, placing her arm over his shoulder. “And the taste of your skin . . . all the little sounds you made when I played with your breasts . . . and when I was deep inside you.”
He wrapped his arms around her, his large hands splaying across the curve of her ass and using it to pull her against him. Her breath whooshed out as he pushed against her and knew she could feel every inch of his erection between them. He could feel her body relax into his, and her other hand held onto his biceps, her eyes opening slowly, meeting his. He saw the matching desire in those mossy depths and dropped his lips to her temple, trailing them over her skin until his mouth reached her ear. He nipped the small shell teasingly, and her body tightened against his, making him smile as he added, “I can show you again, if you don’t remember.”