Chapter Ten
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“ARE YOU TAKING me to a biker bar?” Gemma asked as she stared at the two guys in front of the bar they’d arrived at off Highway 30, dressed in leather from head to toe.
“Karaoke,” he said, grinning.
“If you wanted karaoke, why didn’t we go to Hank’s?” Instead of driving 45 minutes away . . .
“I thought you’d prefer a little privacy, so I decided to take you somewhere no one knows your name,” he said, and she smiled.
“That was really considerate of you,” she said, wondering why she was so surprised. Travis used to do sweet things for her all the time when they were teenagers, little things to make her comfortable or happy.
“I’m a swell guy, what can I say?” he said.
“But, again, karaoke? Not the most relaxing of dates.”
“Nonsense.” Travis grinned as he opened up the passenger door of the truck and helped her out. “Singing releases endorphins, which make us happy, relaxed individuals.”
Gemma looked at the front of the bar’s window doubtfully, taking in the glowing KARAOKE sign. “I think singing makes some people happy, but I don’t think standing up in a room full of people is going to make me happy.”
He took her hand and led her to the front door. “I promise, if you really aren’t having any fun, we’ll leave, but I think you’re gonna love it.”
“Says the man who does it for a living,” she muttered as they passed the bouncer, a thick man with a full beard who gave Travis a double take.
The bar was barely half full, and up on stage a skinny woman was trying her damnedest to sing “Any Man of Mine” but was so hammered she kept missing the lyrics. Gemma swallowed hard as Travis sat her down at a table.
“Want a drink?”
She looked from the stage to him. “If you want me to get up there, better give me a double of everything.”
His laughter trailed behind him as he walked up to the stage first, talking to the stacked blonde who looked like a six-foot-tall Dolly Parton. With a grin, he went to the bar to grab drinks. Her heart did a double-decker twist when he looked over at her with a smile, and she tried to calm down.
She didn’t sound bad singing in the shower, but up in front of strangers was different. When Mike, Gracie, and she went to Hank’s Bar on karaoke night, it was usually to heckle everyone else, although Gracie had no qualms about getting up and belting one out. Gracie, however, had also been in numerous musicals in high school and college.
Travis came back with a couple of shots and a beer.
Gemma took a shot without asking if it was hers, holding it to her lips before tipping it back. The burning alcohol singed her throat as she set down the glass, and Travis eyeballed her with a smirk, scooting the other shooter her way.
“Aren’t you drinking?” she asked before she took the shot.
“Just the beer. I’m driving and you’re singing.”
She made a face at him just as a raspy voice called over the speakers, “Gemma Bowers?”
Gemma started choking at the use of her new, married name, and Travis laughed as she tried to get her fit under control.
Standing up, she glared at him. “Why did you tell her that?”
“’Cause it’s your name, and I have the marriage license to prove it.”
The real-life Barbie called her name again, and Gemma walked toward the stage with lead feet. When the woman handed her the microphone, she winked at Gemma in a friendly manner. “Have fun.”
Yeah, not freaking likely. As she turned to face the crowd, the microphone in her hand, bile rose in her throat.
The music started, and as Gemma looked at the karaoke screen, she wanted to hit Travis over the head with a beer bottle. Mr. Funny Man had picked “Last Name” by Carrie Underwood.
She stumbled over the first line, more of a mumble than actual singing, and she heard someone shout, “Louder!”
It had to be Travis. No one else would care how loud she was.
Raising her voice, she sang, “‘And I got a little crazy.’”
“Yeah!” another voice called out, and Gemma grinned. With a gentle swing of her hips, she was starting to move with the beat of the music. More catcalls came as she walked over to the stage pole and pointed to it as she sang. When the crowd cheered, she put her back to it, sliding down as she reached the chorus.
By the time she finished the song, her face hurt from smiling so hard, and she handed back the microphone with a breathless, “Thank you.” Travis stood at the edge of the stage and, without thinking, she reached out to him. He swung her down and against him, and she held on tight, her arms around his shoulders.
His lips grazed her neck as he whispered, “Are you relaxed yet?”
Gemma felt warm and safe in the circle of his arms and snuggled closer. “Hmmm, I could be more so.”
Without another word, he took her hand and led her out of the bar to the truck, his long legs moving so fast, she had to run to keep up. Between the dancing on stage and his quick stride, she couldn’t catch her breath.
“Slow down.”
He stopped along the side of the truck and pulled her into him, his mouth covering hers, his tongue pushing between her lips and plunging inside. With a moan, she threaded her fingers around the back of his neck, pressing her body against his so tightly that she could feel the hard muscles of his stomach against her. Nipples tightening, she rubbed them against him, back and forth, trying to ease the discomfort.
Suddenly, he was pulling away from her but still holding her close. “If I don’t stop, I’m going to push you against the truck and take you.”
Gemma’s stomach flopped while her center tightened, the roughness of his words making a small part of her hope he’d do what he threatened.
I am going to hell.
Here she was again, letting her hormones get the best of her, but her body was tight with adrenaline, and besides, he’d said they could do some light petting . . .
Footsteps and loud conversations broke the spell, and Gemma pushed away. “Maybe we should take this date somewhere else?”
Travis grinned before leaning down and giving her one last hard kiss, his hand cradling her cheek. “I’m good with that.”
TRAVIS WAS TRYING not to speed, but his eagerness to have Gemma in his arms was outweighing his good sense. He reached across the seat and took her hand in his, threading his fingers through hers.
“You know, if this were really our first date, I’d probably make you take me home,” she said, smiling at him in the dark.
He didn’t think that idea was funny in the least. “But technically, this is probably our hundredth date, and since we’re already married, I think it’s okay.”
“Oh, you do?” Her tone was teasing, and he heard the snap of her seat belt as she flipped up the console, creating a bench seat and felt her scooting over to nestle against his side. A few seconds later, she’d buckled herself back in and laid her head on his shoulder. “Do you remember sneaking out to the old barn on the Silvertons’ farm?”
He kissed the top of her head. “How could I forget? We climbed up into the hayloft—”
“Your idea.”
“Yeah, it was. And we started making out on the old straw—”
“Which smelled disgusting.”
“And then the hay started moving, and suddenly we were surrounded by a family of hissing possums.” His chest shook with laughter as he remembered.
“I don’t think I’ve ever screamed so much in my life!” Her laughter mingled with his, and she wrapped her arm around his waist. “God, I wanted to kill you for talking me into that.”
“But you didn’t,” he said softly, sliding his arm down to rest his hand on the curve of her hip.
“No, I didn’t. You could always get around me with those pretty blue eyes and that boyish, aw-shucks smile.”
His thoughts strayed to that night in Phoenix, when he’d told her nothing had happened. “Not always.”
Her body tensed against his, and he felt her head tip up. He glanced down from the road and caught her frown.
“In Phoenix, nothing I said would convince you that I didn’t betray you.” She let him go and started to scoot away, but he tightened his hold on her waist. “I’m sorry to bring it up. That wasn’t our agreement.”
“Its fine, Travis; we have a past. It was silly to try to pretend we don’t have issues to work out and things we need to handle before this gets any deeper.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet.
“Maybe you should just take me to my car.” Her whispered suggestion made his guts tie up in knots. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to end, but he still had two more dates.
The car was quiet on the way to the lot at The Local Bean, where Gemma’s Subaru was parked. Travis got out of the truck and went to her side. When he opened her door, she said, “Look, Travis—”
“Stop. If you’re going to tell me this isn’t going to work, just stop.” She closed her mouth, and he put his hands on her waist to help her down, teasing, “The only thing I want you to tell me is how you can’t wait for our next date.”
“Travis, listen—”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re ignoring me?”
“Because you’re ignoring me!” she snapped.
“Okay, we’ll talk,” he said dropping his hands from around her waist. “I wasn’t trying to be a jerk, I just—”
“I have a son,” Gemma said softly.
It was the last thing he was expecting her to say, and he couldn’t deny that the confession stung. However, it wasn’t the end of the world, and it did explain her squirrelliness.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he smiled. “That’s great. What’s his name?”
“Charlie.”
That threw him a little. “That’s funny, ’cause Mike’s mentoring a kid named Charlie . . .” Travis stopped and frowned.
“Mike just said that because he knew I hadn’t told you yet.”
“He’s your son? But he looks like he’s—”
“He’s nine. Charlie’s nine.”
Travis was starting to think this was some kind of joke. Anger and hurt churned inside him as he processed her words. Mike had lied to him because . . . Charlie was his? But if that were the case, wouldn’t Gemma have married him? Mike had said he loved her, but she’d never felt that way.
He thought back to that picture of the smiling kid with curly brown hair and blue eyes . . .
Just like his.
“Who’s his father, Gemma?”
She looked up and met his gaze, and he knew the answer by the tears in her eyes.
“You are.”