by Codi Gary
Travis waved behind him, and Gemma squinted at the sign: QUICK WILLIE’S WEDDING CHAPEL.
“Why are we going in there?” she asked.
“You wanted something to do and this is my dare. We’re are going to people watch.”
“In a chapel?” Gemma asked doubtfully.
“Come on,” Travis said, taking her hand and pulling her inside the little white building, which looked more like a fast-food place than a wedding chapel.
Maybe they give out an order of fries with every wedding? The thought got her giggling again.
They walked into the brightly lit lobby, and an older woman with big hair, bright pink lips, and a smoker’s voice croaked, “Name?”
“Name?” Gemma asked.
“You don’t get through those doors without giving me a name and some ID, honey.”
Gemma looked at Travis, who shrugged and pulled out his wallet. Gemma followed his lead and grabbed her license from her purse.
The woman wrote down their names, but then stopped and stared at Travis’s license. Her eyes jumped up and she cried, “Land sakes, Seamus. Get your ass out here!”
An old man with red hair came running into the room with a shotgun a moment later. Gemma screamed, and Travis grabbed hold of her as Seamus yelled, “Damn it, woman, what is that caterwauling about? I thought we were being robbed again.”
“It’s him, Seamus. He sings that song I love!”
Seamus trained his eyes on them and shifted the gun over his shoulder. Gemma breathed a sigh of relief.
“Which song?” Seamus asked.
“‘A Jukebox and a Long Neck’!” The woman came around the corner and threw her arms around Travis. Gemma covered her mouth to smother her laugh.
“It’s nice to meet you, folks, but I’ve got three couples ahead of you, so you’re just gonna have to—”
“Oh no, they don’t, Seamus McGillan! You take these two first or else!”
Seamus’s face went bright red and he snapped, “Well, then, hurry it up! I don’t have all day!”
Gemma wasn’t sure what was happening with all the confusion, but she whispered, “Travis, maybe we should—”
“Oh, don’t mind him, he just hates the night shift,” the woman said, handing them each a form. “Normally we’re just here during the day, but our son is on vacation, and our front-desk clerk called in sick. Here you go. Just fill this out. When you’re done,” she waved her hand across a glass jewelry case, “come back and we’ll get you fitted for your wedding rings. As you can see, we have some beauties. The service includes a wedding video and—”
“I don’t know . . . I mean, we’re not—”
“I understand it doesn’t look like much from here, but I swear, we got the best rates in Vegas and the best videographer in the whole state!” the woman said, pushing the doors open for them. “Why don’t you head on back and have a look-see, and if it’s really not what you’re looking for, no hard feelings.”
Travis’s mouth was pressed against her ear. “Come on. We’ll watch a few ceremonies and laugh.”
His warm, coaxing tone and the soft kiss on her forehead made her lean toward him and close her eyes, contentment warming her. His lips slid down, brushing the shell of her ear, and another one of those shivers shot from her neck to her lower back and spread through her as he whispered, “I dare you.”
Chapter Six
* * *
The next morning
ROLLING AGAIN TOWARD the edge of the large bed, Gemma swung her legs over and tried to stand quietly, swaying a bit.
Oh, God, what did I do?
The room was still dark, despite the bright light outside, which meant it was probably early in the morning. Snapshots of sitting on Travis’s lap in a well-lit room and watching couples kiss under an arch of roses flashed through her mind.
“Do you, Gemma Anne Carlson, take Travis Charles Bowers, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“Shit.” She clapped her hand over her mouth in alarm, shooting a panicked glance toward the bed, but Travis didn’t stir. Had they really done it? Was it legal if you didn’t remember? She wanted to wake him up and scream at him, but her whole body shook at the thought of facing him.
A weekend of fun. No-strings-attached-forget-him-when-he’s-gone fun. That’s all she’d wanted. She’d wanted to feel like more than just Charlie’s mom, someone daring and sexy. Now she was standing over her husband, and all she could think about was putting as much distance between herself and Travis as she could possibly get.
Searching the room for her clothes, she gathered them in her arms and quietly made her way toward the door. She opened it as gently as she could and slipped into the adjacent living room without breathing. Turning on the light in the entryway, she dressed in a hurry, her eyes darting back to the closed bedroom door. The sparkly diamond on her hand continued to draw her attention, mocking her as it twinkled.
“Will you love her, honor her, and keep her in sickness and health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”
Seamus. She remembered Seamus. Gemma remembered laughter, and bits and pieces, but it was all a jumble.
She snapped her bra into place, but her panties were nowhere to be found. Not willing to go back in to find them and run the risk of waking him up, she pulled on the poufy dress, adjusting it as best she could. With no way to lace the corset back, she gripped the top of the dress with one hand and picked up her shoes purse and the skirt of the dress in the other, and practically ran to the suite door in her bare feet.
This was insane; how could she have been so stupid? What had possessed her to get married in Vegas? Alcohol was no excuse; deep down she knew that. No, it was her fault she had taken a complicated situation and turned it into a maze of epic proportions.
Who the hell doesn’t remember getting married? Opening the door slowly, she poked out her head and looked for signs of life. The hallway was quiet, and saying a little prayer, she slipped out of his room and hobbled to the elevator. Trying to keep her dress up was a chore with her other hand full, and she ended up pushing the elevator button with her elbow, still hoping Travis wouldn’t wake up and come looking for her. Or that some stranger wouldn’t come out and see her walk of shame.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
The doors opened and the attendant poked out his head. “Going down, ma’am?”
Gemma stepped in with a loud sigh and told him her floor, making sure to keep her back to him. If he thought anything of her odd behavior, he didn’t mention it. She tried to fight the tears filling her eyes, but her vision still blurred.
God, how could she face Travis? Chances were he’d agree they’d made a mistake and would want their marriage annulled, but what if he questioned why she wanted one? Why wouldn’t she want to stay married to a handsome, successful man?
Because I’ve been keeping too many secrets and they’re all about to come crashing down around my head?
But her biggest fear, the one that really made her want to run for the hills, wasn’t that Travis would agree to an annulment but that he wouldn’t. If he told her he wanted her, wanted this, she wouldn’t be able to walk away.
And then she’d have to tell Travis about their son, and if things didn’t work out, it would devastate Charlie. To get a taste of being a family only to have it end when they couldn’t sustain it? She couldn’t do that to him. Charlie had only known love and security; she’d tried to protect him as best she could. She didn’t want his heart broken.
She’d heard what could happen to normal marriages, let alone the ones that left the couple separated for long months. Celebrity couples were always splitting up due to scheduling conflicts and infidelities, and if she took a chance with Travis, that’s where she’d end up. She’d read the books and seen the movies of the week; they would split, and their private business would be all over the place.
And if Travis requested visitation, Charlie would be shuffled around the country on his t
ours, surrounded by strange people, unprotected. What if whoever Travis hired to babysit Charlie didn’t watch him and he got lost or hurt? She was very careful about who she let into Charlie’s life, but if he was with Travis, she’d have no control. No way to keep him safe and sheltered. All the normalcy she had struggled to provide for him would be gone.
Squeezing her eyes shut against the headache and tears, she leaned against the wall of the elevator her knees weakening as her stomach turned over. The ride was quick, and Gemma tried to act natural as she sidestepped out of the elevator, giving the man a weak smile He returned her smile and she continued to moonwalk away until the doors closed.
Alone at last, she sped to her door and dropped her shoes on the ground, frantically searching for her hotel key card in her purse. Finally finding it, she shoved it into the slot and rushed in, reaching back to grab her forgotten shoes. Shutting the door, she stepped out of the cupcake gown and threw it across the bed, the once beautiful gown now a shameful reminder of her actions.
“You may now kiss your bride.”
Gemma wished she could remember what that kiss had felt like, or the look on Travis’s face, but her mind was blank. Fresh tears filled her eyes; she had never imagined that when she got married she wouldn’t even be able to remember making her vows. Had she even walked down an aisle?
The thought that she might have been sitting during her wedding made her even more disgusted with herself. She went into the bathroom to clean up, taking her contacts out of her already irritated eyes and putting on her glasses instead. Pulling clean clothes from her bag, she changed quickly, and put the dress and shoes back in the garment bag. Gemma reached up to remove the diamond teardrop necklace, dropping it back into its velvet case.
She closed up all of her bags and then carried them from the room and back down the hallway to the elevator. As she waited impatiently, she closed her eyes against the throbbing pain in her head.
If I go to him now and tell him it was a mistake, he’ll probably agree.
But if he didn’t, where would that leave them? She had dreamed of marrying Travis every night for two years during high school, and if she was being honest, probably longer than that. But those dreams had changed when she’d held Charlie for the first time and decided to do everything in her power to make his life good.
“You’re a selfish little coward, Gemma Anne. You’re dead to me.”
If only her father was alive, he would see how true his words actually had been.
The elevator dinged, and she opened her eyes to find the same man inside. “Leaving so soon?”
“Long drive,” she said, her voice sounding raspy.
“I hear you. I drive home to South Dakota every Christmas. Seems like it takes forever some trips,” he said, giving her a smile.
Normally, Gemma would have been friendly and asked him about his family or hometown, but she just wasn’t up to it. So she said nothing, leaning back against the wall and trying not to vomit as the small box started to drop. When the elevator stopped, she carried out her bags and thanked him before making a beeline for the front desk.
Setting her keys on the counter, she said, “Checking out.”
“Of course, ma’am. How was everything?” the girl behind the desk asked, a wide, friendly smile on her face.
It was a dream come true, until I came back to reality.
“It was good, thank you. You have a lovely hotel,” she said. “Could I have an envelope and a piece of paper? I’d like to leave a note for another guest.”
“Of course, ma’am.” The girl handed her the paper, and Gemma pulled a pen from her purse. The diamond ring’s sparkle caught her eye, and she touched it lightly. It was beautifully elegant, but it wasn’t really hers. She had spent years imagining what it would be like to be Travis’s bride, to look at him on their special day and see him staring back with love in his eyes. It hadn’t been like that, though. She’d been drunk and impulsive, not really weighing what would happen the morning after, when the truth came out. Even if her feelings for Travis hadn’t changed, she had, and they never should have thought one spectacular day would prepare them for a lifetime commitment.
Besides, was that commitment even real if she barely remembered making it?
Gripping the ring, she tried to pull it off, but it wouldn’t budge. She tugged hard several times and then looked up at the receptionist’s confused expression. “Do you have any lotion or something?”
“No, ma’am, but I have some hand sanitizer.” She set the clear gel on the counter, and Gemma put a good amount over the ring until it slipped off easily. Avoiding the clerk’s obvious curiosity, she placed the ring inside the envelope and wrote Travis a short note. Sealing the letter and ring inside, she wrote his name on the front.
Handing it and the sanitizer to the clerk, she said, “Could you please make sure that this envelope and the garment bag get to Travis Bowers? He’s in Suite 1219.”
Gemma handed her a twenty and the woman smiled. “Of course, ma’am. I’ll be sure to take good care of them.”
“Thank you,” Gemma said. After paying her bill and grabbing her bags, she went in search of her car. She had a ten-hour drive home to Rock Canyon, and there was no time like the present to get started.
Looking down at her naked ring finger, she prayed that Travis would see what she was doing was for the best. She hoped he wouldn’t protest or come after her. Despite his apology for not fighting for her, she didn’t think he’d lose too much sleep over this. After all, he’d had ten years to find her—it wasn’t like her cell-phone number had ever changed. If he’d been thinking about her as much as he’d said, he would have apologized sooner.
No, it was just an intense, passionate impulse, and after a quick annulment, we’ll put it behind us, just like when we broke up before.
That’s what she told herself, but if that was the case, why did it feel like someone was ripping out her heart for the second time?
TRAVIS WOKE UP with an aching head and a dry mouth, sure signs that he’d drunk way more than he should have. Rolling over slowly, he grabbed another pillow, burying his face in the softness. It smelled fruity, with a hint of vanilla, and a smile stretched across his face.
Gemma. Last night had been incredible; from the dancing to the hot limo sex, it had been the most fun he’d had in a long while.
“I dare you.”
Travis’s whole body stiffened as he realized two things: one, there was a band on his ring finger, and two, he had flopped over onto Gemma’s side of the bed, but the sheets were cool to the touch.
Opening his eyes, he looked around, then sat up. His first sweep of the room revealed that it was empty, the only thing left of Gemma was a pair of white lacy panties on the chair in the corner.
A sinking feeling formed in the pit of his stomach. No, she wouldn’t . . .
“Gemma?” he called, getting up from the bed to search for her, but it was no use. She wasn’t there. He tried calling her room next, but there was no answer. He grabbed a couple of Tylenol from his bag, swallowing them with a glass of water.
Why would she leave without saying a word?
He remembered watching the last couple, high-school sweethearts who had lasted through college, stand up and kiss.
“That could have been us,” he’d whispered.
“You think?”
He had no idea what wild hair had popped up, but he’d nodded.
“It still could be.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m going to go stand under that arbor, and if you want to meet me there, you have five minutes.”
“Travis . . .”
Sitting down on the bed, he put his head in his hands and groaned. He’d practically dared her to marry him, but why? They were just starting to have fun and get to know each other again. Why had he drunk-married her? And why had she agreed and then taken off? They’d both been out of their minds. They could have talked it through.
Hopi
ng maybe he was wrong, that maybe she hadn’t left yet, he called down to the front desk.
“O’Shea Hotel, Gretchen speaking,” a cheery voice said.
“Hello, this is Travis Bowers in 1219, I was wondering if . . .”
“Oh, Mr. Bowers, I have some things waiting for you at the front desk,” Gretchen said.
“What things?” His voice was nothing more than a guttural growl.
“There’s an envelope and a garment bag, left for you by . . .”
“I know who left them. I’ll be down soon.” He slammed down the phone and cursed.
Damn her. She hadn’t even had the decency to wake him up but had run out on him while he was sleeping. His thoughts strayed to the mysterious I-love-you phone call. If it was a boyfriend, she obviously wouldn’t want the guy to know she’d fallen into bed with him, let alone married him. But why not come clean?
Well, she had another thing coming if she thought he was going to sit back and let her go this time. Pulling on his clothes and stuffing her underwear into his jeans pocket, he quickly packed up his suite and walked out the door to the elevator. The operator said very little, and Travis was glad. He was in no mood to make small talk.
When the doors opened to the lobby, Travis walked straight to the reception desk.
“I’m here to check out and pick up some things that were left for me,” Travis said.
The receptionist’s smile dimmed slightly at his abrupt tone. “What room?”
“Travis Bowers in 1219.”
Looking very uncomfortable, the girl went into the back and brought out a garment bag with an envelope. Travis handed her his credit card and took the items from her, laying the garment bag on the counter while he opened the letter.
Something fell out onto the floor with a ping and he bent down to retrieve the wedding ring they’d picked out hours before. His heart pinched as he gripped the ring in his fist. It was bad enough she had left without telling him in person, but leaving behind her ring for him . . . if she’d wanted to make him feel like just some guy she fucked in Vegas, she’d made her point.