Chapter Seventeen
* * *
GEMMA STOPPED OFF at Hall’s Market to get a few groceries on her way home and walked past the row of magazines on her way to check out. Stopping, she backed up and pulled Talking Nashville out of its holder. It was the first time she’d seen the image up close; the grainy quality of the photo of Travis leading her into the chapel made it hard to make out their faces. She glimpsed the article and read: An eyewitness says the couple left a little after three in the morning, and the mystery woman was sporting quite a rock on her hand.
Gemma wanted to gather up every copy and destroy them, but what good would it do? If someone decided to call up a magazine and tell them who she was, there was nothing she could do to stop it. The thought of someone she knew betraying her and Charlie made her sick to her stomach, but anyone was susceptible for the right price.
How could she protect Charlie from the locusts that would eventually find them? It would be bad enough to have him see what they wrote about his dad and her, but if they followed him to school . . .
No. No one was going to harass her son and disrupt their peace. If anyone tried, they’d be in for it. Her family and friends didn’t call her Mama Bear for nothing.
“Gemma, you gonna put down roots or you want me to ring ya up?” Nancy teased from the check stand.
“Sorry,” Gemma said, blushing as she pushed her cart forward and started unloading.
“Everyone’s talking about Travis and you tying the knot. I gotta say, he’s quite a looker. And that voice of his is enough to make me wish I was twenty years younger,” Nancy said, giving Gemma a wink.
Gemma gave Nancy a polite smile. She liked her a lot, but if one more person mentioned how lucky she was, or how good Travis looked, she was going to melt down in a bad way. The man was like a walking hormone inducer, with those deep blue eyes and the way he filled out his T-shirt, and she didn’t need to be reminded that all that sexiness was living under her roof ten times a day. At least Nancy wasn’t being crude, unlike Michelle Benson, who’d prodded Gemma about whether there was any correlation between Travis’s height and his penis size. Appalled, Gemma had asked her how big her own husband was, and walked away from the red-faced hussy.
“He is nice to look at,” Gemma said.
“I bet he looks even better in formal wear. Everyone’s talking about your reception, even Marcie Andrews, and that woman never gets excited about anything,” Nancy said, scanning the last item and totaling her out.
“So I’ve been told,” Gemma said and ran her debit card. “But I don’t know if we’re going to have a reception. We’re already married, and it just seems like we’re being greedy, taking up everyone’s time.”
“Nonsense; that’s crazy talk! Any excuse to throw a party, that’s all I’m saying. Plus we’re all just so proud of you finally hog-tying that boy,” Nancy said.
What was she? A desperate man chaser finally having browbeaten Travis into marrying her?
“Have a good one, Nancy,” Gemma said as she gathered up her bags, knowing her voice sounded testy but not caring anymore. Did no one in this town ever think before they spoke?
“You, too, Gemma. Oh, and don’t worry about the rolls for the reception. We’re going to supply some of those fancy ones that Kimmi makes at Christmas,” Nancy said, obviously missing the fact that she’d put her foot so far back in her mouth she was deep-throating it.
Gemma left the store, loaded her groceries, and climbed into the car. The minute the door slammed shut, she let out an ear-piercing scream of frustration. Sadly, it didn’t make her feel any better.
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Gemma walked through the front door, loaded down with groceries, and called, “I’m home.”
A loud bay made the hairs on her neck stand up, and Gemma screamed as a huge dog came barreling around the corner, skidding to a halt at her feet. Sucking in air like a vacuum, she looked down at the monstrous beast with floppy ears, currently tilting its head to the side as if studying her for her edibleness. Pounding feet sounded down the hallway as Charlie came around the corner to stand behind the hellhound.
“Mom, this is Annie. Dad got her for me today!”
Travis came into the room with a sheepish grin on his face, holding something in his hands. Fighting for patience, Gemma looked from her husband to the dog before finally focusing her attention on her son. “Charlie, I thought we said we would get a dog when the right one came along.”
“But she’s perfect! She’s already potty trained and she knows all of her commands. She likes cats and other dogs. And she was trained as a hunting dog. Isn’t that cool?” Charlie said, giving the dog a hug.
Gemma’s gaze shifted to the man responsible, ready to give him a piece of her mind, but words failed her when she saw the small, silvery white kitten in his big hands. Its little ears stood up and it was honestly kind of ugly, but Gemma’s outrage faded a bit. “And who’s this?”
“This is Stormy.”
Setting her groceries on the couch, Gemma reached out and took the tiny kitten from Travis. Their hands brushed, causing zings of electricity to erupt between them, and she tried not to show her reaction. Bringing the kitten against her chest, she nuzzled its soft fur, and a rumbling purr erupted from its body. Looking up at Travis, Gemma fought a smile as she said, “You are clever.”
A wide grin spread across his handsome face. “What do you mean?”
“Bringing home a kitten with the dog,” she said.
“It wasn’t on purpose,” he said, reaching out his hand to scratch the kitten’s batlike ears. “I had already picked her out when Charlie fell in love with Annie. She was just so sweet and all alone.”
Damn him. How could you not melt over a man who adopted a kitten so she wouldn’t be by herself? “As cute as she is, you really should have asked me first.”
Something clouded over Travis’s face, and she thought he would argue. Instead, he took a deep breath and said, “You’re right. I apologize.”
She was surprised, and wondered what else had happened today.
Gemma looked down at Charlie, whose eyes were starting to water, and his lower lip stuck out half an inch. It was a lost little puppy look if she ever saw one, and she reassured him, “It’s okay. It seems like you picked the right one.”
“Yes!” Charlie said, rushing around the dog to grab one of the paper grocery sacks off the couch. “Thanks, Mom!”
Gemma shook her head and held Stormy up for further inspection. “And you? Did your daddy pick out a good one, too?”
Walking over to pick up the last two grocery sacks, Travis said, “I think I did.”
When she met his gaze, there was definite heat in it, and her heart went skippity-skat as his shoulder brushed hers.
“Thanks for getting him the dog. You made his year,” Gemma said softly.
The look he gave her made her want to back away, it was so fierce. “He’s my child. I’d do anything for him.”
“Are there more groceries, Mom?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah, a few more,” Gemma answered, watching Travis as he set the sacks on the counter and started pulling stuff out.
“I’ll do that,” she said, shaking herself into action.
“It’s okay, I think I’ve figured out your cabinet system,” he said, sticking a gallon of milk in the fridge. “Besides, I wanted to run an idea past you before Charlie comes back.”
Apprehension settled in as she said, “Sure. What’s up?”
Just as he opened his mouth, though, the front door flew open, and Charlie rushed in. “Got it all, Mom.”
“Later,” Travis said, and started talking to Charlie about what they planned to do tomorrow.
Gemma continued to pet little Stormy, wondering what he’d wanted to ask her. The idea couldn’t be worse than the two of them living under the same roof, though she tried to pretend she didn’t warm up from just being in the same room with him. His sweetness to Charlie, and even his behavior toward her, had been caring, and all of it was getting to her.
TRAVIS CAME DOWN from reading to Charlie and found Gemma at the kitchen table, headphones on, typing away.
Walking up behind her to see what she was writing, he read loudly, “‘Lady Emily couldn’t believe his gall. Moving swiftly, she pushed at his shoulders, knocking him off balance, and with arms flailing, Lord Everton fell back into the fishpond with a resounding splash.’”
Gemma reached up and jerked her headphones off. “What did you say?”
“Why did she push him into the pond? What did he do?” Travis asked.
Gemma pressed a few keys before shutting the laptop. Turning in her seat, she looked up at him with clear irritation. “He behaved insufferably.”
“What, did he forget to lay his coat down over a puddle or something?”
She stood up and took her glass to the counter. “No, he made a rude comment about a kiss they shared.”
“That’s it? What did he say? Her breath was stinky?” he said, trying to make her smile as he followed her.
It worked. Setting down her glass, she shook her head at him, her lips curved into a small grin. “You are ridiculous.”
“Why am I ridiculous? This is before they had toothbrushes, right? People probably had some serious halitosis going on.” Taking a step toward her, he brought up his hand to play across her parted lips. “Whereas now we have all kinds of breath-freshening agents that make the dangers of stinky breath almost nil. Unless you eat garlic.” Dropping his head to let his lips hover above hers, he whispered, “And I don’t remember you being especially partial to garlic.”
“What are you doing, Travis?” she asked breathlessly.
“I’m not sure,” he said, brushing his lips over hers softly.
“We can’t do this. What if Charlie came downstairs and saw us?”
Nibbling at her mouth, he said, “I’ve been thinking about us. I want to forgive you, Gem. I want to start over with a clean slate and see where this goes. What do you say?”
Her eyes were giant pools of uncertainty as she looked up at him and swallowed. “What does that mean?”
“It means I want to see if we can have a real life together. You, me, Charlie . . . we can be a family.”
He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but he wanted her to say yes so badly it was killing him. He felt like he had taken a big step toward being an adult and wanted to have an adult relationship, not just chasing a different skirt every week. And it had all started coming to a head when he’d seen her at that elevator, struggling with her books. He’d realized in that moment that he’d never been able to forget her, and now he really felt like he was ready to make the right move. He wanted the kind of life he’d imagined growing up, and he wanted it with Gemma.
After what felt like forever, she reached a hand up and touched his face. “Can you forgive me, Travis? Can you let everything go, really?”
Turning his head to lay a soft kiss on her palm, he said, “I’m going to try. What about you? For Charlie?”
She dropped her hand. “Sure, Travis.”
He realized she thought that was his only reason, but it wasn’t true. He did want to be near his son, but he hadn’t chased Gemma across two states because of Charlie. He’d come after her because he wanted her.
“Gemma, I just meant that he wants us to stay together, and I think we should give it a shot,” he said, stepping back to give her space but still keeping his hand on her shoulder. “But I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I didn’t want to be with you.”
He felt her relax under his hand, but her expression shifted to one of concern. “What if the media finds out about Charlie and me? How do we protect him?” Gemma wrapped her arms around her waist.
“No one knows about my life here or who you are except George,” Travis assured her. “When I finally tell the media about us, it’ll be controlled. I’ll give an exclusive, no holds barred, and that will put a squash on it.”
“But how are we going to make this work?” Gemma asked, reaching up to grasp his hand. “You’re going to leave on tour for months, and when you come back, it will be for what? A weekend?”
“We’ll figure it out. Maybe you guys can come on the road with me sometimes, too,” he said, but by her doubtful expression, he figured he hadn’t eased her fears. “Why don’t we concentrate on right now, and let the rest sort itself out?”