Chapter Eighteen
* * *
“I DON’T KNOW why we had to bring the dog,” Gemma grumbled as she grabbed the picnic basket off the seat. They’d decided to have lunch at 1000 Springs Park and swim for the afternoon, but Charlie had insisted on bringing Annie. Gemma had protested, but both Travis and Charlie had overruled her.
Travis smiled from across the truck seat as he grabbed the cooler. “It’ll be fine.”
Gemma sighed and watched Charlie running toward the water with the hound close on his heels. “Charles Michael, you get back here! We’re going to eat first, and you still need sunscreen.”
“Mooom!” Charlie protested but ran back toward her.
“Chaaarlie.” She smiled as she mocked him.
Charlie grabbed the blanket from Travis with a groan. It was already getting hot at eleven, and Gemma had dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a plain black tank top over her polka dot tankini. Sitting down on the blanket the guys had spread, she was rummaging for plates and forks when she found herself with a lap full of hound. “Hey! Get off me, dog!”
Said dog’s response was a big wet lick from her chin to her hairline.
Male laughter reached her ears as she dropped the plates and pushed the dog off her lap. “Gross. Off!”
“She likes you, Mom,” Charlie said, sitting down next to her, and Annie switched her affections back to her young master.
Gemma grabbed the pack of wet wipes she’d brought and glared at the dog, who stared back at her with dark, warm eyes. Gemma wiped her hands and face before picking up the plates again and filling them with food. Travis sat down on her other side, and she shifted a bit away when the scent of him started getting to her. It didn’t help that every time she looked up, he was watching her exactly like the dog. Like she was something to be studied for weaknesses and then overcome.
While Travis and Charlie shoveled food into their mouths and talked about different superheroes, Gemma watched their interactions. It wasn’t just their facial features that were similar but their mannerisms and expressions. The way Charlie skipped over the potato salad and went straight for the BBQ chips, just like Travis. Her dad used to say that blood didn’t lie. Despite never having been around each other, Charlie was more like Travis than she’d thought.
Charlie took the last bite of his chicken, wiped his mouth on his napkin, and jumped up. “Can I swim now?”
“Half an hour,” Gemma said, taking a bite of her salad.
“Okay.” Charlie sighed and grabbed a stuffed fox from his bag. “Come on, Annie.”
Charlie started squeaking the stuffed toy and the hound went crazy. Smiling, she watched Charlie romp with the big dog. His childish laughter drowned out the sound of her own thumping heart as Travis moved closer to her and reached into the ice chest for a Coke. Purposefully or not, he leaned into her arm, pressing the hard muscles of his chest against her, and she resisted the urge to shiver.
“I think he loves that dog, don’t you?”
His breath tickled her bare shoulder, and she scolded herself for almost moving her neck closer to his mouth. They were in a public park with their son, not in Vegas, or a hotel room, or anywhere else where it might be okay for her to be thinking about him kissing her neck, trailing his rough hands over her bare thigh, or her slipping her hand under his shirt. Maybe helping him remove the shirt completely so she could run her mouth over those chiseled abs . . .
Oh good lord, I have to stop this.
Clearing her throat, she moved away from him. “Yeah, he does. She’s a nice dog.”
“You okay? You seem nervous.”
“Nope, I’m fine.” She took a bite of an apple, avoiding his eye. She tried to concentrate on Charlie and banish the naughty thoughts from her mind, annoyed with herself for acting like a horny teenager.
Travis’s warm hand reached out and took her empty one. “Gemma, look at me, please.”
Closing her eyes, she lifted her face toward him. “Yeah?”
His deep chuckle met her ears and turned her insides to goo. She felt his touch against her temple as he said, “Open your eyes.”
Reluctantly, she did as he asked and wished she hadn’t. Those intense blue orbs gazed back at her with amusement, and . . . wanting. She recognized the heat, and so did the juncture between her thighs. Squeezing her legs together, she said, “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Stop acting like you’re scared of me.”
“I’m not scared of you.”
“All right, then.” Before she knew what was happening, he grabbed her arm and yanked her to him.
Flipping her over his shoulder, he stood up, and she screamed, “Travis, what are you doing?” She smacked him on his butt and said, “Put me down, you giant fruitcake!”
A smack on her own rear end was his response. Looking down, she saw Travis’s legs disappear into the river and warned, “Travis, don’t you da . . .”
Suddenly she found herself deposited onto her feet in the shallow water, Travis’s arms twisted around her waist.
“Remember this?”
It took her a split second to realize what he was talking about.
“No!”
Quick as a snake, he jumped into the deep pool, taking her with him. It was a move he’d pulled on her every time they’d gone to the river or lake and she’d refused to get in. As soon as her head was submerged, she started kicking, and they broke water together, his arms still around her.
“You suck!” She laughed, pushing at his shoulders.
“I was just trying to get you to loosen up,” he said, gasping for breath between bouts of guffaws.
“You are so dead!” She tried to dunk him, but he didn’t budge, and she grunted in frustration.
“Can I come in now, Mom?” Charlie yelled behind her.
“If you help me dunk your dad,” she said, forgetting all about the half-an-hour rule.
Splashing sounded behind her, and she squealed as Travis grabbed her around the ribs, using his long fingers to tickle her. Sinking back into the water, she tried to swim away from him, but he caught her foot.
Charlie saved her when he launched himself at his dad, who got hold of Charlie and playfully tossed him back into the water. Gemma saw Charlie pop back up coughing, and immediately started swimming toward him with concern. When he stopped coughing, though, he swam back at his dad with his face a mask of intent. Gemma could hear Annie barking excitedly as her little master went for his dad, only to be tossed away again. Travis was laughing, his dark hair plastered to his head, and Gemma was in awe of him.
Travis had always been quietly confident, but in the past he’d never let go of himself with such total abandon. In high school they’d had a good time, but he had always held a bit of himself back. Until now, playing with his son.
As Gemma stared at them, Travis turned and caught her looking. His smile dimmed a bit and he swam toward her. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” she said as Charlie swam up behind him. “You’re so good with him.”
With a shrug, Travis said, “He’s my son.”
That simple statement made her eyes water, and she tried to cover her emotion by saying, “Get him, Charlie.”
Charlie jumped Travis, and as the two wrestled around, Gemma wiped at her eyes, hoping they wouldn’t notice.
AFTER STOPPING OFF to grab some food at Jensen’s Diner, they headed back home.
Travis glanced over at Gemma and caught her watching him again, this time with a soft, dreamy smile.
“What’s the smile for?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
Travis looked in his rearview mirror at Charlie, who gave him a shrug.
“Smiles got to mean something,” Travis said.
“I just had a lot of fun today,” Gemma said.
Travis reached across the seat and took her hand. Gemma looked at him with wide eyes, and he said, “Me, too.”
Gemma’s surprise disappeared, and for the first time since he’d arrived, she looked at him exactly the way she used to. Like he’d hung the moon and the stars and slayed all her dragons, too. It had a heady effect on him.
“Man, I wish we had ice cream,” Charlie grumbled from the backseat, breaking the spell.
Travis parked in front of the house, chuckling as Gemma huffed, “We were just in town. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Travis climbed out of the truck, listening to his son and wife argue, and for some reason it was comforting. Or maybe just comfortable.
The last several days, he’d watched their easy affection and caught himself feeling wistful. He had no idea who his dad was, and the last memory he had of his mom was the day he’d found her on the floor of their one-bedroom apartment, not moving. Family had always been a foreign concept, an unattainable dream.
Until now.
“Dad, come on! Mom said she’d run back out to the store after our burgers.”
Travis, brought out of his reverie by his son’s shout, heard Gemma call out, “That is not what I said, Charles Michael! I said I’d think about it.”
He walked into the house to find Gemma wrestling Charlie in her arms, kissing him everywhere she could reach. The little boy protested but made no real attempt to get away.
Damn it. He was forced to admit Eric Henderson had been right about Gemma; she was a good mother, loving and protective.
Gemma looked up, and their gazes locked.
“I think your dad wants in on this.” Just like when they were kids, Gemma knew what he needed before he did.
She released Charlie, and the kid raced around the kitchen island before jumping on Travis and wrapping his arms around him.
“I had the best day today.”
Travis wanted to agree, but his throat had closed up with emotion. He struggled to control the wealth of feelings inside him, but he was about to lose it.
“Charlie, you need to see where Annie has gotten to.”
Charlie broke away from Travis and ran for the door, leaving his father with empty arms and an aching heart. He heard Gemma’s flip-flops on the wood floor and looked up in time to see her hesitate.
“I’m sorry, Trav. I’m so sorry.”
He wanted her to take those final steps and hug him, to make him feel like there was hope that this whole crazy mess could work itself out. That they might have a chance of becoming the one thing he’d missed out on.
But then the front door opened, and Annie barreled past Charlie into the house, letting loose with a loud bay. Travis looked up to see his son bound through the door and caught Gemma disappearing out of the corner of his eye. The moment was broken.
But he knew he wanted to get it back.
GEMMA SET UP her laptop, hoping to get in a few chapters while Travis finished reading to Charlie. She always seemed to write better at night, maybe because she could shut off her brain. Or try to, at least. Tonight it seemed to be fixated on the man upstairs and the wounded longing she’d witnessed earlier.
She wanted to fix it but had no idea how to repair the damage she had caused. Despite the times he seemed to have really pushed aside what she’d done, she knew it wasn’t that easy. People just didn’t get over things like that. Especially people with the kind of trust issues Travis had.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to get back into the swing of her story, trying to decide what her hero did after her heroine pushed him into the water. Where did they go from there? She supposed she could have Lady Emily run away as fast as her dance slippers would take her, but that wasn’t very mature. If she had any backbone, she would stand her ground and defend her actions.
Or she could apologize over and over and then avoid the man.
Hands fell on her shoulders from behind and she jumped in her chair, swinging around guiltily to face Travis.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” she said, her smile tight and nervous.
“Yeah, he was out before I finished the chapter. So, how’s the poor guy in the water?”
“Wet.” Trying to steer her mind away from the fact that his hands were burning a hole through her clothes, heating up the skin beneath and making her squirm, she said, “Charlie had a big day.”
His hands dropped and he took the seat next to her at the kitchen table, scooting his chair closer to hers. “Me, too. It was a really good day, too.”
She swallowed hard. “Yeah, it was.”
“So, it got me thinking. About us.”
Those two words sent her heartbeat into overdrive. “Yeah?”
“Why don’t we have a do-over date? Since our first one didn’t go so well, I was thinking we could try again and go from there.”
Gemma didn’t move as he leaned over and grazed her lips in a soft kiss, but her whole body went on high alert: hot, tingly, and quivery.
“Gemma, will you go out with me?”
One of his hands released hers, and he softly trailed his finger down her cheek. His eyes were open and staring into hers.
“I feel like we’re back in high school,” she whispered, resisting the urge to brush back a curl from his forehead.
His mouth spread into a wide grin. “If we were still in high school, we’d be making out by now.”
Her surprised laugh was cut off by his kiss, and she didn’t protest. It felt too good to say no.
Travis pulled her out of her chair and onto his lap, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around her, holding her in place. “No escape.”
Gemma whispered, “I didn’t know I was trying to.”
Those were the last words spoken between them as they kissed, touched, and rubbed against each other. Gemma really did feel like a kid again, sneaking Travis into her room after bedtime and fooling around quietly so they wouldn’t wake her parents.
Only now, it was their son upstairs.
She pulled back reluctantly. “We should stop.”
He didn’t protest, but he didn’t release her either. “You never answered me.”
“About?”
He punctuated every word with a kiss to her cheek, neck, nose, and mouth. “Will . . . you . . . go . . . out . . . with . . . me?”
He was trying to move on and start over. He’d promised to keep the press under wraps and protect Charlie and her from any backlash. He was willing to forgive her for her past mistakes. Didn’t she owe it to herself and Charlie to do the same? To take a chance and trust him again?
“Yes. I’ll go out with you.” Disentangling herself from his arms and standing up, she added, “Now off with you. I have to write.”
He stood up from the table but captured her chin in his hand. “Get Charlie a sitter tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
He bent over and gave her a hard kiss on the mouth before turning around and heading to his room. She heard the sound of a squeaky meow and looked down to find Stormy, her little head cocked to one side.
Unable to resist her homely cuteness, Gemma picked her up and held her against her chest, enjoying the tiny body’s vibration as she purred.
“What do you think, Stormy? Am I doing the right thing?”
The only answers she got were a louder rumble and the scratch of a wet kitten tongue on her hand.