Chapter Fifteen
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GEMMA HAD CALLED Rico’s Pizza before leaving work for a to-go order, but she wasn’t really hungry. Her nerves were too frazzled to think about dinner. She had tried calling Mike several times, but he kept sending her straight to voice mail. Callie and Gracie had come by for lunch, and Callie had told her to give him time. Gracie hadn’t said much, which was unusual for her. Then again, she had already voiced her opinion and Gemma had ignored her, so maybe she figured there was nothing more to add.
All day she’d been stressing and worrying about how she was going to handle this whole crazy situation. In one weekend she had turned her entire life upside down, and all because she couldn’t say no to her ex-boyfriend.
He’s not my ex-boyfriend anymore, he’s my husband. My super-hot husband, with whom I’ve broken my long-standing celibacy and who is now living under my roof.
Not that he was interested in her anymore; he’d made that perfectly clear. But when he’d grabbed her hand, she’d still felt that tug in her lower abdomen. How could something so strong be one-sided?
Don’t go there again. This situation is about Travis and Charlie, not your reawakened hormones.
Walking into Rico’s, she wished she could quiet that little voice in her head. It had absolutely no problem saying exactly what it meant, and it was annoying.
Rico stood behind the counter, a scruffy Italian man with silver at his temples and a thick New York accent, even though he’d been living in Rock Canyon for nearly twenty years.
“Hey, Rico. I called in an order,” Gemma said.
“I saw it, and don’t you worry, I fixed it for you,” Rico said, putting two large pizza boxes and a plastic salad container on the counter.
Gemma stared at the enormous amount of food. “But I only ordered a medium pizza and a salad.”
“Yes, but your new husband used to finish a whole one by himself, so I made him a special pie. You tell him to come see me soon, okay? Oh, and don’t you worry about the salad for the party; Vicky is making a spinach salad with fresh strawberries, feta, and candied walnuts, with a red wine vinaigrette.” Kissing the tips of his fingers, he added, “Fantastico.”
“Party? Rico, what party?” Gemma asked, handing him her debit card and dreading his answer.
“Your reception. Hope Weathers told Vicky, and Vicky told me that we were in charge of the salad, although just so you know, I make excellent gnocchi with a spicy cheese sauce, if you want an Italian menu instead.” He swiped her card and handed it back to her, smiling at whoever had just walked in behind her.
“Rico, there’s been a misunderstanding; there is no . . .”
The phone rang and he picked it up, gesturing for her to hold on. Gemma picked up her pizzas and salad and turned, almost running smack into Mrs. Andrews.
“Well, Gemma, I heard that boy finally made an honest woman of you. I’m glad to hear it.”
Gemma’s face burned, and she wanted to run for the door. “Thank you, Mrs. Andrews, but I have to hurry. The guys are waiting on dinner,” she said, inching toward the exit.
“Well, pencil me in for Saturday at nine. I’m your party planner, and we have a lot to do so your reception goes off without a hitch,” Mrs. Andrews said, walking up to the counter as Rico put down the phone.
Oh, what fresh hell is this?
Gemma stared in horror at the back of her head, trying to process the high-handed announcement. Mrs. Andrews was her party planner?
What else did fate have in store for her?
ARMS FULL, GEMMA came through the door to find her son and Travis sitting on the floor, playing Monopoly. Travis jumped up and came over to help her, taking the pizzas.
“Thanks,” she said, dropping her purse and laptop bag on the couch.
“Who else is coming over, the Rock Canyon football team?” Travis asked.
Her gaze met his, and his smile was real. Relaxing slightly, she said, “No. Rico decided that my order wasn’t adequate for such a big, strapping man. And he suggested that you come see him while you’re in town, but I’m pretty sure it was a command.”
“Ah, Rico,” Travis said. “He was always a riot.”
“Hey, Mom, I showed dad his room and my room, and now I’m kicking his butt at Monopoly,” Charlie said.
Gemma melted a bit as she saw her son’s happiness and went over to ruffle his hair. “That’s great, honey. Are you hungry?”
“Starvin’ Marvin,” Charlie said, running into the kitchen to wash his hands.
Travis raised his eyebrow. “Is he always like that?”
“Like what?” Gemma said.
“Hyper,” Travis said, carrying the pizzas to the table.
Gemma laughed. “Yeah, pretty much. I was the same way as a kid. He may look like you, but he’s got a lot of me in his personality.” Travis stiffened, and whatever she’d said wrong, she wished she could take it back.
Charlie joined them at the table and started to reach into the top box. Suddenly, he yanked his hand back and made a face.
“Yuck, this isn’t right.”
Gemma lifted the lid all the way, taking in the funky concoction of meat and veggies, and remembered it was Travis’s favorite, down to the white sauce. Normally, she just bought Charlie a small pepperoni pizza and a salad for herself.
Travis reached in and grabbed a couple slices. “This is the best pizza in the world.”
Charlie still hadn’t lost his complete look of disgust. “If you say so.”
Gemma snorted as she grabbed her salad and drizzled fat-free dressing on it, trying hard not to think about the tempting aroma of the pizza. After the junk she’d had today, she couldn’t afford to have any. Maybe tomorrow she could grab a small leftover slice, she thought, eyeing the pizza longingly as she shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth.
“That’s what you’re eating?” Travis asked.
Gemma looked from his pizza, dripping with cheese and yummy goodness, to her healthy salad. “Yes. Yes, this is what I’m eating.”
“Mom always gets a salad for dinner at Rico’s,” Charlie said.
“Why?” Travis asked between bites.
“’Cause she doesn’t want to get a Buddha belly again.”
“Charlie!” Gemma scolded, mortified.
“What? That’s what you told Aunt Gracie,” Charlie said, looking confused.
Gemma ducked her head and filled her mouth with more salad, trying to avoid looking at Travis. It was so embarrassing to be reminded of what a tank she used to be.
“I think your mom is beautiful, no matter what she weighs.”
Gemma jerked up her head and met his eyes with surprise.
“I do, too, but she’s always freaking out about her butt getting big or something,” Charlie said around a mouthful of pizza.
“Let’s change the subject,” Gemma said. For a man who hated her guts, Travis was being awfully kind to her. First the bookstore pep talk, and now telling their son he thought she was always beautiful.
Don’t read into it.
“Charlie and I were trying to decide what to do tomorrow,” Travis said. “Any suggestions?”
“Well, Charlie loves to fish. You could do that, or maybe just take a drive?”
“You aren’t coming with us?” Charlie said, pleading.
“Charlie, I would love to, but I’ve got the store to open. I was just closed for five days. I can’t afford to miss more; it’s our income,” Gemma said, but in her heart she knew that wasn’t the only reason.
Charlie looked disappointed, and Gemma didn’t know why. He would be spending the whole day with his dad, getting to know him, without her tagging along.
“We could go geocaching,” Charlie said quietly.
“What’s that?” Travis asked.
“It’s like a scavenger hunt with GPS units. Uncle Mike takes me. Can we ask him to go?”
Clearing his throat, Travis said, “Well, I’m not sure whether he’ll want to, but we can ask him.”
“I’ll go call him,” Charlie said, starting to jump up.
“Finish your dinner first, please,” Gemma said firmly.
“Mom . . .” Charlie groaned and took a huge bite of pizza.
“Charlie! That bite was way too big. Take smaller ones or you’re going to choke,” Gemma said.
“Mrphgrphdurph,” Charlie mumbled around his full mouth.
“Young man, don’t talk with your mouth full.”
Charlie swallowed and opened his mouth wide to show her it was empty. When she didn’t even crack a smile, he mumbled, “Sorry, Mom, but I’m not a baby.”
Her mood lightening at the familiar argument, she teased, “But you’re my baby.”
“Ugh, Mom.” Charlie looked toward Travis for help.
Gemma turned her attention to Travis also and froze. He was watching them so sadly that it caused a guilty lump to form in her throat. No longer hungry, she stood and picked up her container, tossing it into the trash, before heading over to the sink to clean up the dishes left over from breakfast.
The kitchen grew quiet, with only the sound of dishes clattering.
The silence was finally broken by Charlie. “Okay, I’m done. Can I call him?”
Up to her elbows in a sink full of soapy water, she looked over her shoulder and nodded. “Sure.”
Charlie jumped up, and Gemma saw Travis stand with his paper plate in his hand. Trying to look busy, she loaded the dishwasher, but she couldn’t ignore the warmth of his body when he came up behind her.
“If it’s a money thing, I can give you something to supplement what you’d lose closing down. I owe you ten years of child support anyway.”
“I don’t want your money, Travis,” Gemma said, trying not to be touched by his offer. The last thing she wanted was to add indebted to her laundry list of feelings toward Travis.
“Do you want anything from me, Gem?” he whispered, his breath ruffling her hair.
Gripping the plate in her hand, she tried not to react to the insinuation but failed. Her nipples tightened as the hard planes of his body pressed against her back, his arms coming around her slowly, and her gaze focused on those big hands as they grabbed the dry towel next to her elbow.
“He’s got to work at some new lady’s house.” Charlie’s voice broke into her lust-induced lapse, and she elbowed Travis in the belly by accident.
Sucking in his breath, he said, “I was just going to dry the dishes.”
Liar. Gemma got the feeling he had been deliberately teasing her, but why? Setting the last of the dishes on the rack and turning to Charlie, she said, “That’s okay, honey, maybe next time. Why don’t you go take your shower, put on your pajamas, and I’ll come up to read to you?”
“Can he read to me?” Charlie asked.
Jealousy. It was the first time she’d ever experienced it with Charlie, because she had never really had to share him with anyone. He loved Gracie and Mike, but he’d never asked to have them read him a story if she was there. Even when they visited her mother and family in Nampa, he always wanted his mom.
“Sure, he can read to you,” she said, trying not to feel slighted.
“Yes!” Charlie said.
As he ran upstairs, silence stretched between her and Travis. Gemma went to grab her laptop bag and set up her computer at the table.
“So, what are you reading to him?” Travis asked from behind her.
She stood up from plugging in the laptop cord before answering. “The first Harry Potter book.”
“Oh, cool. I saw part of one of the movies, but that was a few years ago,” Travis said.
“They’re great books. We’re reading that series, and he likes to read Goosebumps books on his own,” she said.
“What are those?”
“Creepy monster and ghost books for kids.”
“Those don’t freak him out?”
“Only the ones about the dummy that comes alive. He can’t read those without having a nightmare,” Gemma said, opening her computer and sitting down.
He sat next to her at the table, trying to catch her eye. “I think you should come with us tomorrow.”
“I told you I can’t—”
“Charlie would be more comfortable, and if I’m ever going to forgive you for all of this, then we’re going to have to start over. Just think about it. It wouldn’t kill you to take a few weeks off for your son’s sake,” he said.
His criticism hurt. “I don’t need you to lecture me on what’s best for my son.”
“It’s not a lecture. I just know how I felt every time I had to switch foster homes and I was left with virtual strangers all the time. It’s scary as hell.”
Gemma felt like a giant ass. She should have realized that Charlie would be nervous about being alone with Travis all day, even if he was his dad, but she was so worried about her own reactions to him that she hadn’t thought.
“You’re right. I’ll go to the bookshop in the morning, record a new away message, and close down shop while you’re here,” she said before adding, “but I don’t need your money.”
“You sure? I don’t mind being your sugar daddy for a few weeks.”
Lips twitching with humor, she said, “Actually, since I’m your wife, what’s yours is mine, I think.”
“So it is.” Travis reached out to tug on a strand of her hair. “But most wives do something to earn their keep.”
Pulling her hair away, she said, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, big boy.”
His hand grabbed hers, quick as lightning, keeping her close to him. “What game are we playing here?”
Gemma’s cheeks flamed. “I’m not playing any games. I just thought we were joking around.”
“Dad, are you ready?” Charlie called from upstairs.
“Coming, bud,” Travis said, dropping Gemma’s hand and moving past her to the stairs. He caught her gaze on the first step and added, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gemma.”
Gemma nodded, and he climbed upstairs and out of sight. Going to the cupboard, she grabbed a glass and filled it with ice. All the mixed signals, high emotions, and sexual tension were making her crazy. One minute she was filled with guilt and remorse, and the next Travis was saying or doing something outrageous, as if nothing had happened.
Suddenly, she didn’t feel like writing and closed her laptop. Her emotions were too jumbled, and honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be there when Travis finished reading. She just couldn’t seem to control herself around him.
She poured water into her glass and started to head upstairs to her room but paused when she heard Travis reading. Sneaking to stand just outside Charlie’s door, she listened to the deep voice change to a high-pitched falsetto as he said Hermione’s lines. Gemma leaned her head against the wall as tears filled her eyes. For so long she’d imagined what it would be like having Travis with them, and now that it was happening, it was so surreal. It was scary to think how easy it would be to get used to having him around.
Wiping her eyes, she peeked around the corner. “I just wanted to say good night.”
“Night, Mom. Love you,” Charlie said from the bed.
“Love you, too,” Gemma said, and added, “Good night, Travis.”
Travis gave her that heart-stopping, knee-jerking, melt-into-a-puddle-on-the-floor smile. “Sweet dreams, Gemma.”
Fleeing the scene, she went to her room and changed for bed. Too keyed up to sleep, she scrolled through her DVR and found an old episode of Grey’s Anatomy she’d saved, then deleted it.
She had enough drama right now. Turning on The Mindy Project, she sat back and tried not to think about how she was going to survive two weeks of this.