Chapter Nine
* * *
WHEN IT WAS quiet at the bookstore, Gemma sat down at her laptop but couldn’t concentrate on writing. She’d been trying to write her first novel for several months now, a Regency romance, which was what had first inspired her desire to attend the Lovers of Romance Convention. The workshops had been helpful and informative, but now all of their concentration tips failed her as her mind kept wandering.
With mild curiosity, she Googled “Travis Bowers Vegas,” and waited as the results popped up. She saw several pictures of Travis on stage at his concert and smiled as she clicked through the photos until a very clear picture of Travis holding her hand in their formal wear as they walked into the chapel caught her eye. Her face was only partially visible, but for someone who knew her, it would be easy to identify her.
Shit. She scrolled down some more, and there was Travis with his hand on her back, talking to Callum. Bile rose in her throat as she kept going, but after that, there were mostly concert and shirtless pictures. She was surprised that there weren’t more pictures, especially when she went to the different tabloids. Talking Nashville seemed to be the only one covering the story. Their headline read:
DID COUNTRY MUSIC’S BAD BOY TIE THE KNOT?
Travis Bowers was seen with a mystery woman at a small wedding chapel in Vegas. When Talking Nashville tried to get the scoop from chapel owner Seamus McGillan, he refused to comment. So far, the possible bride-to-be’s identity is unknown, but if Travis is off the market, there will be a lot of ladies nursing broken hearts.
A cold sweat spread over Gemma’s body, but there was no help for it. The pictures were out there, and it was only a matter of time before someone spilled the beans for money or cruelty. She’d spent half her life as a punch line, and her faith in people being inherently good was slim.
Which meant she’d have to tell the people she loved before anyone in Rock Canyon started spreading the word. She called Gracie, who, fifteen minutes later, came walking through the door with two salads and two iced teas. While Gracie set up their food in the little storeroom, Gemma put up the OUT TO LUNCH sign and went back to join her. For some reason she felt like she was walking toward her execution.
Gracie had been blessedly quiet, which was terrifying in itself. As Gemma sat down across from her, she waited for her to say something, but instead Gracie just opened her salad and started eating.
Gemma popped the lid off her own salad and offered, “I know you’re probably wondering why I didn’t tell you, and it’s not that I thought I couldn’t trust you, I just didn’t want anyone to know, especially since I thought it was over.” Gracie still said nothing, just chewed on her leafy greens thoughtfully, and Gemma hissed, “Really? Nothing?”
Finally, she stopped, swallowed, and said, “I’m just picturing you having a wild night in Vegas and wondering how you could forget to tell your best friend, the woman who has stood by you and kept all of your secrets since the first time you peed your pants in kindergarten!”
Gemma flushed. “I know you can keep a secret, okay? It was just . . . it wasn’t just a wild night, Gracie.”
“What do you mean? Were you with him for the weekend?” Gracie squealed, her color high. “You hussy!”
“No, I mean, it was just one night, but there’s more to it than just us bumping into each other and—”
“Then bumping uglies?” Gracie said, teasingly.
“Will you knock it off! I’m trying to tell you that I didn’t just sleep with Travis when I was drunk, I married him!”
There. She’d said it.
Gracie’s chin dropped, her mouth flopping like a fish, and this time she jumped up. “Are you f*cking kidding me?”
“No I’m not kidding you—”
“And you didn’t tell me? I could . . . if I wasn’t so damn curious, I would be pissed at you!” Gracie grabbed her chair and scooted it around next to Gemma. “Why wouldn’t you? Have I ever judged you?”
“No. I guess I thought that if I didn’t mention what happened, it wouldn’t be real.”
“Oh, it’s real, honey. All six-foot-five of manly proof is here to back up the fact that you, Gemma Carlson, got married Britney Spears–style.”
Gracie was grinning now, and Gemma’s face twisted into a scowl. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Hell yeah. You’ve been all repressed since you had Charlie, and it’s good to see you take a step out of your little protective bubble once in a while,” Gracie said, then frowned briefly. “Still pissed you were going to take this to the grave, though.”
“I’d say this was more of a flying leap than a step,” Gemma grumbled. Meanwhile, her salad was looking less and less appealing by the minute.
“True. You kind of double backflipped your way out of the bubble, but Gemma, he’s here. He followed you, even after you gave him the brush-off.”
“It wasn’t a brush-off. It was a nice letter setting him free,” Gemma said defensively, adding, “and it’s not like he hasn’t had ten years to get off his ass and come find me or pick up a damn phone. Why now? A piece of paper doesn’t mean crap if you can barely remember the actual marriage ceremony, right?”
“Okay, I get your pissiness, and believe me, I wanted to kick his royal behind for not going all ‘you’re mine, woman’ and coming after you,” Gracie said with a major but face. “But I do have to say, if some guy had dumped me all eighties movie style, crying in the rain, I’d have a hard time swallowing my pride and going after him.”
“There was no rain.”
“Still, I can just picture the drama and the sad ballad in his head as you walked away and one tear fell down his cheek—”
Gemma threw a forkful of salad at Gracie. “You are such a dork.”
“Adorkable, you mean,” Gracie said, flicking a carrot at her.
“He wants to date me,” Gemma said. When Travis had suggested they date, she’d laughed at first, but now she thought it could be helpful. It would give her a chance to get him alone and feel out his ideas on fatherhood. The idea that he’d bolt was still there, but at least if she took the time before Charlie got back to really get to know him, she could decide for sure whether he would be good for Charlie.
“Isn’t that like putting the cart before the horse?” Gracie asked.
“Yeah, but he wasn’t going to go away until I agreed, and I figured it would give me a chance to get to know him with his clothes on and work up my nerve.”
“Nerve for what?” Gracie asked.
“Nerve to tell him about Charlie.”
Gracie paused with a forkful of salad halfway to her mouth.
“I just . . . I was—”
“You were just looking to tie one off before you returned to your self-made nunnery.”
“Rude, but yeah. I figured if I wasn’t going to see him again, it could just be my little secret, and then everything got crazy and he followed me home. Not to mention there are pictures of me out there with Travis, including one of us heading into the chapel,” Gemma said, sucking back the dread as best she could. “What happens if someone puts the pieces together and the media show up here in Rock Canyon? If they start following Charlie to school? Call me Travis’s baby mama or worse?”
“I call you his baby mama.” Gracie said, trying to be funny, but when Gemma didn’t laugh, she added, “Gemma, why do you care what a bunch of reporters say? Sticks and stones.”
Except sticks and stones can still leave invisible bruises that last a lifetime.
“You don’t understand. What’s it going to do to Charlie to have cameras shoved in his face, or reporters asking him if he thought his mom got pregnant on purpose?”
Gracie gasped. “Shut up! No one would ask Charlie that! First of all, how would he have any idea, and second, I’d kill their ass and drop them in the Snake River!”
Gemma almost smiled at that. “I can only imagine what they will ask. They get paid to take the juiciest pictures and get the best dirt on people. You really think they’ll hold back and be discreet just because he’s a kid?”
Gracie didn’t respond right away, which was answer enough. “I don’t know, but I do know that Travis needs to be told.”
“I know that. I’m going to do it, I swear. I just need to find the right time.”
Gracie released a weak laugh. “Is there ever a good time for something like this?”
“No, and if I don’t do it, someone else will.”
TRAVIS WAS TIRED, but then, it had been an eventful few days.
After he’d left the hotel in Vegas, he’d taken a cab to the nearest car dealership. Maybe it was a sign of his inability to settle down, but he was at his apartment in Nashville so rarely, he didn’t feel the need to own a car or truck. But, in this instance, he’d wanted his own vehicle. He’d walked right over to a black, lifted 4x4 and told the salesperson he wanted it. He’d made it to Rock Canyon at around one a.m. and tossed and turned most of the night.
In fact, he was about to cut his trip down memory lane short and head back to the hotel for a nap. He’d driven around Rock Canyon after leaving Gemma’s shop, checking out his old foster home and the other places he’d haunted in his youth. As he drove back into town, he tried to imagine what his life would have been like if Thomas and Vanessa Warren hadn’t taken him in at seventeen, but nothing good came to mind. The Warrens had saved him, and for that he would always be grateful. They were good people with big hearts, now living in Florida and enjoying the warmer climate. He talked to them every once in a while and sent them a Christmas card every year, but besides them, there was no one else he considered family.
Until now.
He came up to Mike’s computer shop and thought about the tension he’d felt radiating off his former best friend. If he was going to stick around, they needed to clear up a few things, mainly what he’d done to get under Mike’s skin. He pulled over and parked, thinking he might just invite him out to lunch, or maybe to have a beer tomorrow. Having a heart-to-heart in Mike’s store probably wouldn’t be the best idea. Lord knew it hadn’t worked with Gemma earlier.
He got out of the truck and went inside. Mike’s dark head was bent over a laptop, and he called out, “Be with you in a second.”
“Hey, Mike,” Travis said.
Mike’s head flew up, his expression suddenly wary. “Hey, Travis. What’s up?”
“I was coming by to see if you wanted to grab lunch.”
Mike hesitated. “You know, I’ve got a lot of stuff going on—”
Travis held up his hand to stop Mike’s excuse. “Look, I know I stepped in something between Gemma and you, but I was hoping we could just put that aside and catch up.”
Mike’s lips kicked up in a small smile. “There’s nothing going on with us. I’ve been into her for years, but she’s never felt that way about me.”
Travis breathed a sigh of relief. “Fine, then how about we do lunch and talk about anything but Gemma?”
The tension in Mike’s shoulders eased, and this time his smile was genuine. “Okay, just let me get my coat.”
Travis waited, picking up a picture frame on Mike’s desk. He turned it around and saw Mike smiling, holding up several lines of fish, his arm around a little boy flashing a gap-toothed grin. The kid looked a little familiar, but for the life of him, Travis couldn’t figure out why.
“All set.” Travis looked up to find Mike shrugging into his coat.
“Great.” Travis set down the picture and asked, “Who’s the kid?”
“Charlie.” Mike’s voice sounded clipped, which only made Travis more curious.
“Is it a mentor thing or something?”
“Something like that,” Mike said as he opened the door and waved Travis through.
JUST BEFORE SEVEN, Gemma paced the bookshop, trying to think of the best way to tell Travis.
“So, hey, Travis, we have a son; his name is Charlie and he looks just like you.”
He’d said three dates, but she didn’t trust someone not to tell him about Charlie in the meantime. She had to pick Charlie up next Sunday, and she wanted this dating business over with before then.
If tonight went as planned, she’d get a better idea of where Travis stood about having kids of his own and, depending on his answer, she might be able to cull the second and third date. Getting caught up in lust and romantic notions was fine for Vegas, but being back in Rock Canyon . . . well, she couldn’t think only of her own desires.
However he reacted to Charlie’s existence, she hoped if Travis backed out on his idea to make their marriage work, Charlie wouldn’t have to know. If Travis found out about him and didn’t pony up . . . well, she would protect her son. She always had.
She shook her head and wished, not for the first time, she could just take off and run, but she’d been doing that forever. Running and hiding. From bullies, from her dad, and, finally, from Travis and the truth.
The only time she’d ever stood her ground on anything was during that last fight with her father. She’d come home from Phoenix but waited another month to tell her parents about her pregnancy. Her mom had been quiet, sitting on the couch with her hands clasped in her lap, while her dad had exploded.
“You little fool, how could you let this happen? Of all the things you’ve been, stupid was never one of them. You’re supposed to be so smart, and yet here you are, about to make the biggest mistake of your life,” he’d yelled a foot from her face.
She hadn’t been able to stop sobbing and had looked toward her mom. “Mommy . . . please . . .”
“Don’t try to bring your mother onto your side; she’s as appalled as I am. If you think I’m going to let you live here for free after a stunt like this, you are out of your goddamn mind!”
Those were her father’s parting words to her and the last time they’d ever spoken. After that, Gemma had packed a bag, ignoring her parents’ raised voices as they started in on each other. She’d left for Gracie’s that night and stayed for a week, applying everywhere in town until Miss Addie had offered her a job and a place to stay in the empty studio above the bookshop.
Her father hadn’t spoken to her for the next five years. Her mother occasionally called or stopped by with groceries and a little money, but there was never a word from him. So many times Gemma had tried to bridge the gap between them, but he wouldn’t budge. When he’d died, she’d been so angry at him for never meeting his grandson, she almost hadn’t gone to his service. It was Michael who had convinced her that she needed to go for her own sake, not her father’s.
In his will, her father had left each of his children a small inheritance, even her, but she hadn’t touched it. It hadn’t felt right to spend his money, so she’d deposited it into Charlie’s college fund. One winter, when Gemma almost had her electricity shut off, her mother asked where her inheritance had gone. She’d simply said she didn’t want his money. Her mother had tried to make excuses for him, even after his death, that he was just set in his ways and never liked to be proven wrong. That had resulted in a huge eruption from Gemma, as she unloaded 23 years of frustration on her mother for all the times she’d sat back and let him rip into her. She’d stood there and taken Gemma’s venting until she was done. Only then had she given her any kind of explanation.
“Someday, when you get married, you’ll realize that it’s important to support your spouse in public, and that all dissension should be handled in private, even in regard to your children. As long as he never struck you, anything I disagreed with could wait until we were alone, and I could let him have it, and I did, often.” Patting Gemma’s hand, she’d said, “But I’m sorry you felt like I wasn’t on your side, because it’s not true. I always defended you; he was just set in his ways, and I couldn’t budge him.”
Despite her assurances, Gemma still hadn’t fully forgiven her mother. Especially after she’d left Rock Canyon for Boise, her excuse being that she didn’t want to live in that big house by herself. Gemma still didn’t believe her. All three of her siblings lived in and around Boise, and that had been the reason, and no other. Gemma might have been the baby, but she must have proven her independence too well.
Ms. Addie had died a few months later, and Gemma had been heartbroken at the loss of her friend and mentor. What had touched her more than anything was Ms. Addie’s generosity toward Gemma and Charlie in her will, leaving her the shop, the building, and all of her inventory. With the building paid for, Gemma had been able to save for the first time, and when her mother had offered her the house, she’d jumped at the chance to buy it.
She’d been blessed in so many ways, but now she was back in the hot seat, having to handle things she’d rather avoid.
It’s time to pull up my big girl panties and deal.
Gemma would get past this, making it through the confession and the aftermath.
A knock sounded at the door, and with a deep breath and a brave face, Gemma went to open it.
Travis stood on the other side with a wide grin. “You ready to go?”
“I hope so.”