Chapter Twenty-One
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SOMEONE WAS KNOCKING on the front door.
Groggily, Gemma lifted her head and heard it again. Knock. Knock. Knock.
Dislodging Penny and Stormy from her chest and neck, she crawled out of bed and grabbed her dress. She pulled it over her head, the incessant noise from the front door continuing as she padded out to the living room. Trying to smooth down her hair, she called, “I’m coming.”
Opening the door with a jerk, she snapped, “Yes?”
Mrs. Andrews stood on her front porch with an eyebrow raised and a newspaper in her hand. “Good morning, Gemma. Did you forget about our appointment?”
Having spent most of last night having amazing sex, yeah, I did.
“Good morning, Mrs. Andrews. Sorry, I had a rough night.” She sounded like a dying frog, all croaky and deep.
“Well, let’s get this reception planned to perfection,” Mrs. Andrews said as she handed Gemma the paper and walked past her into the living room.
Gemma glanced down briefly before doing a double take. The paper was folded over to show a picture of Travis and Gemma leaving the movie theater the night before, along with a new gossip-column entry.
AT LAST, ROCK CANYON’S ROYAL COUPLE RECONCILES
For those of you who’ve been following my column, you know that Travis Bowers has recently returned to Rock Canyon to reclaim his high-school sweetheart and the mother of his child, Gemma Carlson. Though the couple has had a rough go of it so far, last night they were seen cuddling outside of a movie theater in Twin Falls, where Travis reportedly rented out the whole place for just the two of them. Am I the only girl swooning over this? It looks like these two are getting back to where they were before Travis left town ten years ago. I know several men in town who aren’t exactly thrilled to have this hot mama off the market. Sorry, boys, this is what a real man looks like!
Gemma couldn’t believe it. There was no way anyone could know where they’d been headed last night, unless maybe Travis had told someone, but if he hadn’t, that meant they’d been followed.
“Gemma, you can read that later. We need to plan, plan, plan!” Mrs. Andrews broke through Gemma’s horror with her command.
Looking up at the older woman from the doorway, she said, “I’m sorry, plan?”
“Haven’t you been listening? If I am going to plan this reception, I need your help!” Mrs. Andrews said shrilly, her eyes narrowing with irritation.
“Mrs. Andrews, I don’t know what you’ve been told—” Gemma started.
“Now, I assume since you’re already married, you’ll want to keep things simple. I was thinking a small ceremony, just to reaffirm your vows with your family and friends watching, and then a simple dinner with a band. I’ve chosen some very easy-to-create, handmade invitations and enlisted the ladies from my book club to help make them. I have several samples and dates for you to choose from.” Mrs. Andrews looked up at Gemma over her glasses and prodded. “And since we’ll be doing all of this out of the kindness of our hearts, perhaps you wouldn’t mind increasing the senior discount at the bookstore?”
“Well, I—”
“We can get into that later. Now, I was thinking about the date. When does Travis have to go back out on tour?”
“I’m not sure, but Mrs. Andrews—”
The door behind her opened, and Gemma turned with relief to find Charlie, Travis, and Annie coming in. Charlie held up a pastry box and yelled, “Look, Mom! Doughnuts!”
“So I see,” Gemma said, her gaze moving to Travis, who looked deliciously rumpled. He must have just thrown on his clothes and left with their son.
Charlie opened up the doughnut box and started to dig in.
“Don’t you have something to say to Mrs. Andrews?” Gemma reminded him.
“Hi, Mrs. Andrews. Do you want a doughnut? We’ve got extra,” Charlie said, setting the box on the table.
“No thank you, Charlie, I’m fine,” she said, and focused her attention on Travis. “Travis, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Mrs. Andrews is helping us plan the reception the town is throwing for us. Isn’t that nice?” Gemma said, her voice strained, hoping he would take the hint to behave. Travis had always hated Mrs. Andrews, and it would be just like him to say something to offend her.
“Oh, really?” Travis said coolly.
Panic welled up in Gemma like a volcano erupting. Rushing over to take the white coffee cup from his hand, she stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a hard kiss on the mouth.
“Be nice,” she whispered against his lips. She pulled away and slipped her arms around his waist, mouthing, Please.
Travis’s lips kicked up into a smile as he slid his hand down to where the older woman couldn’t see and squeezed Gemma’s butt, making her jump.
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Andrews?” Travis asked, pretending he hadn’t just groped her with not only their son present but also the leader of several local groups, including MAMI (Mothers Against Moral Ignorance).
Gemma breathed a sigh of relief until he leaned down to kiss her cheek and whispered, “You owe me.”
A rush of heat suffused her body as she took his meaning and went to a very dirty place with it, rubbing at her cheeks to hide her blush.
“Mom, can I have a doughnut now?” Charlie begged, hopping from foot to foot.
Travis released her to go sit down, and Gemma turned all her attention on Charlie. The last thing she wanted was him listening in and getting excited when she wasn’t sure whether this whole reception thing was going to happen. “Sure, honey. Why don’t you eat, and then take Annie outside to play? Your dad and I need to talk to Mrs. Andrews.”
“’Kay,” he said, and attacked the pastry box like a starving wolverine.
“September fifteenth,” Gemma heard Travis say from behind her.
“What’s September fifteenth?” Gemma walked over to sit next to him on the couch.
“When I have a weekend off from my tour,” Travis answered before taking a sip of his coffee.
“And . . .?”
“That’s the soonest Travis would be available for the reception,” Mrs. Andrews said, filling in the blanks.
Gemma frowned. “You said you were here for two weeks . . . when does your tour pick up?”
“I’ve got to be in Sacramento next Friday,” Travis said.
In her head, Gemma calculated the weeks separating the dates. “So you leave on the eighth of August. You’ll be back to see us before September, right?”
“Well, yeah, I’m going to try. Sometimes Big George schedules interviews and charity events, though, so I’ll have to see what he has going on,” Travis said, watching like he was waiting for her to combust.
So we take a backseat to your schedule?
Gemma was trying not to overreact, but she couldn’t help feeling a little irritated. Did he think they were going to be the only ones to make concessions and compromises? That he wouldn’t have to lighten his work schedule a little if he really wanted this to work?
Take a breath and give the trial courtship a chance.
There was no use making waves if she wasn’t sure she wanted to swim.
“That will actually work out fine, Travis,” Mrs. Andrews said, jotting down some notes. “That gives us a little over a month to plan and organize. Now, Gemma, which of these invites do you like?”
Gemma tried to focus on the handmade invitations, but her vision had blurred. “Um . . . I think I like the one on the left.”
“Excellent, that was the one I was hoping you’d pick. Now . . .” Mrs. Andrews started to hold up something else.
“You know what, would you mind excusing me? I slept in my contacts and they’re really hurting,” Gemma said, setting her coffee on the table and getting up to leave the room.
“Gemma . . .” Travis started, but she didn’t stop until she’d made it upstairs to the sanctuary of her bedroom and had wiped at her tears.
Locking the door, she went into the bathroom to take out the contacts, which really were bothering her, and hopped into the shower, hoping the hot water would clear her head.
I have to get it together and stop being such a crybaby. Travis said he wanted to make this marriage work. I just have to tell him what I need.
Stupid, smart voice, making everything sound so easy.
AFTER SPENDING AN hour going over reception details with Mrs. Andrews, Travis was ready to impale himself on the fireplace poker. Thank God Gemma finally came back downstairs, looking refreshed, although she still wouldn’t meet his eye.
He’d been a moron for not realizing how he’d made things sound, like he was putting them on the back burner. The problem was, he hadn’t talked to Big George about how his marriage would affect the way they’d always done things. Big George would be supportive, but there would definitely be an adjustment period. It was about time he took charge of his schedule and events, and cutting back would help show Gemma he was serious about them. First chance he got, he’d call George.
Mrs. Andrews was picking up her things as she said, “Oh, Gemma, are you going to call your mother, or do you want me to?”
Travis covered his mouth to hide his smile at Gemma’s outrage. “I’ll call my own mother, thank you.”
Mrs. Andrews gave Gemma a sharp glance but must have decided to hold her tongue. “I’ll be in touch then, if I have any other questions.”
Travis held the door for her as she walked out, and once it was shut, he strode over to his wife, wrapping her in his arms. “Hey. About before, the tour, I just . . .”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to . . .” Gemma started.
“Shut up and listen. I haven’t talked to Big George yet, but when I do, all of my interviews, and anything else, will be done on concert days. That way I can be home more, and spend all my extra time with my son and my beautiful wife.” Leaning down, he kissed her lips softly. When she didn’t pull away, he took that as a good sign and deepened the kiss.
The door banged open, and Travis heard Charlie say, “Yech. You aren’t going to do that all the time, are you?”
Gemma started laughing against his mouth, and Travis moved away to give his son a black look. “What’s the matter with a man kissing his wife?”
Charlie’s face was comical. “But it’s . . . my mom.”
Travis looked from Gemma to Charlie and said, “How ’bout whenever I’m about to kiss your mom, I say, ‘Avert your eyes’?”
Charlie looked down at Annie, as if getting the dog’s opinion telepathically, and shrugged. “Okay.”
Grinning, Travis said, “All right, now that we’ve established that, why don’t you avert your eyes for about five minutes?”
“Five minutes? Gross with a capital gag!”
As Charlie left the room, Travis and Gemma burst into hysterical laughter. When they finally calmed down, the tension was gone, and Gemma went into his arms willingly.
“I’m sorry,” Gemma said.
“It’s okay,” he said, kissing her hair, “You just gotta trust me, Gem. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
“I know.”
As they stood there holding each other tight, Charlie yelled, “Can I come out yet?”
They tried ignoring him, but by the third yell, Travis was exasperated, and Gemma squeezed his waist. “Welcome to parenthood, where privacy is a forgotten thing.”
He chuckled and kissed her again, thinking that he could deal with the lack of privacy as long as he got to have Charlie and Gemma.