by Codi Gary
“Aren’t you drinking?” she asked before she took the shot.
“Just the beer. I’m driving and you’re singing.”
She made a face at him just as a raspy voice called over the speakers, “Gemma Bowers?”
Gemma started choking at the use of her new, married name, and Travis laughed as she tried to get her fit under control.
Standing up, she glared at him. “Why did you tell her that?”
“’Cause it’s your name, and I have the marriage license to prove it.”
The real-life Barbie called her name again, and Gemma walked toward the stage with lead feet. When the woman handed her the microphone, she winked at Gemma in a friendly manner. “Have fun.”
Yeah, not freaking likely. As she turned to face the crowd, the microphone in her hand, bile rose in her throat.
The music started, and as Gemma looked at the karaoke screen, she wanted to hit Travis over the head with a beer bottle. Mr. Funny Man had picked “Last Name” by Carrie Underwood.
She stumbled over the first line, more of a mumble than actual singing, and she heard someone shout, “Louder!”
It had to be Travis. No one else would care how loud she was.
Raising her voice, she sang, “‘And I got a little crazy.’”
“Yeah!” another voice called out, and Gemma grinned. With a gentle swing of her hips, she was starting to move with the beat of the music. More catcalls came as she walked over to the stage pole and pointed to it as she sang. When the crowd cheered, she put her back to it, sliding down as she reached the chorus.
By the time she finished the song, her face hurt from smiling so hard, and she handed back the microphone with a breathless, “Thank you.” Travis stood at the edge of the stage and, without thinking, she reached out to him. He swung her down and against him, and she held on tight, her arms around his shoulders.
His lips grazed her neck as he whispered, “Are you relaxed yet?”
Gemma felt warm and safe in the circle of his arms and snuggled closer. “Hmmm, I could be more so.”
Without another word, he took her hand and led her out of the bar to the truck, his long legs moving so fast, she had to run to keep up. Between the dancing on stage and his quick stride, she couldn’t catch her breath.
“Slow down.”
He stopped along the side of the truck and pulled her into him, his mouth covering hers, his tongue pushing between her lips and plunging inside. With a moan, she threaded her fingers around the back of his neck, pressing her body against his so tightly that she could feel the hard muscles of his stomach against her. Nipples tightening, she rubbed them against him, back and forth, trying to ease the discomfort.
Suddenly, he was pulling away from her but still holding her close. “If I don’t stop, I’m going to push you against the truck and take you.”
Gemma’s stomach flopped while her center tightened, the roughness of his words making a small part of her hope he’d do what he threatened.
I am going to hell.
Here she was again, letting her hormones get the best of her, but her body was tight with adrenaline, and besides, he’d said they could do some light petting . . .
Footsteps and loud conversations broke the spell, and Gemma pushed away. “Maybe we should take this date somewhere else?”
Travis grinned before leaning down and giving her one last hard kiss, his hand cradling her cheek. “I’m good with that.”
TRAVIS WAS TRYING not to speed, but his eagerness to have Gemma in his arms was outweighing his good sense. He reached across the seat and took her hand in his, threading his fingers through hers.
“You know, if this were really our first date, I’d probably make you take me home,” she said, smiling at him in the dark.
He didn’t think that idea was funny in the least. “But technically, this is probably our hundredth date, and since we’re already married, I think it’s okay.”
“Oh, you do?” Her tone was teasing, and he heard the snap of her seat belt as she flipped up the console, creating a bench seat and felt her scooting over to nestle against his side. A few seconds later, she’d buckled herself back in and laid her head on his shoulder. “Do you remember sneaking out to the old barn on the Silvertons’ farm?”
He kissed the top of her head. “How could I forget? We climbed up into the hayloft—”
“Your idea.”
“Yeah, it was. And we started making out on the old straw—”
“Which smelled disgusting.”
“And then the hay started moving, and suddenly we were surrounded by a family of hissing possums.” His chest shook with laughter as he remembered.
“I don’t think I’ve ever screamed so much in my life!” Her laughter mingled with his, and she wrapped her arm around his waist. “God, I wanted to kill you for talking me into that.”
“But you didn’t,” he said softly, sliding his arm down to rest his hand on the curve of her hip.
“No, I didn’t. You could always get around me with those pretty blue eyes and that boyish, aw-shucks smile.”
His thoughts strayed to that night in Phoenix, when he’d told her nothing had happened. “Not always.”
Her body tensed against his, and he felt her head tip up. He glanced down from the road and caught her frown.
“In Phoenix, nothing I said would convince you that I didn’t betray you.” She let him go and started to scoot away, but he tightened his hold on her waist. “I’m sorry to bring it up. That wasn’t our agreement.”
“Its fine, Travis; we have a past. It was silly to try to pretend we don’t have issues to work out and things we need to handle before this gets any deeper.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet.
“Maybe you should just take me to my car.” Her whispered suggestion made his guts tie up in knots. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to end, but he still had two more dates.
The car was quiet on the way to the lot at The Local Bean, where Gemma’s Subaru was parked. Travis got out of the truck and went to her side. When he opened her door, she said, “Look, Travis—”
“Stop. If you’re going to tell me this isn’t going to work, just stop.” She closed her mouth, and he put his hands on her waist to help her down, teasing, “The only thing I want you to tell me is how you can’t wait for our next date.”
“Travis, listen—”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re ignoring me?”
“Because you’re ignoring me!” she snapped.
“Okay, we’ll talk,” he said dropping his hands from around her waist. “I wasn’t trying to be a jerk, I just—”
“I have a son,” Gemma said softly.
It was the last thing he was expecting her to say, and he couldn’t deny that the confession stung. However, it wasn’t the end of the world, and it did explain her squirrelliness.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he smiled. “That’s great. What’s his name?”
“Charlie.”
That threw him a little. “That’s funny, ’cause Mike’s mentoring a kid named Charlie . . .” Travis stopped and frowned.
“Mike just said that because he knew I hadn’t told you yet.”
“He’s your son? But he looks like he’s—”
“He’s nine. Charlie’s nine.”
Travis was starting to think this was some kind of joke. Anger and hurt churned inside him as he processed her words. Mike had lied to him because . . . Charlie was his? But if that were the case, wouldn’t Gemma have married him? Mike had said he loved her, but she’d never felt that way.
He thought back to that picture of the smiling kid with curly brown hair and blue eyes . . .
Just like his.
“Who’s his father, Gemma?”
She looked up and met his gaze, and he knew the answer by the tears in her eyes.
“You are.”
Chapter Eleven
* * *
“HE’S MINE?” TRAVIS hi
ssed, and Gemma saw his muscles shaking like he was about to erupt. His eyes were wild, and in the eerie streetlight, he looked almost purple. “Mine!”
Gemma winced at the harsh pain in his voice. “Yes, yours.”
“How?” His tone was biting, and she saw his jaw clench.
Gemma’s smile was nervous. “The usual way.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his hands roughly driving into his hair until the short curls were mushed. She bit her lip, trying to fight down her flight response to his restrained anger. She had to face the music and deal with Travis or she’d just be proving her dad right.
“I couldn’t,” she said, wrapping her arms around her body. “I didn’t find out until you were on the road, already launching your career. That was why I came to see you in Phoenix, to tell you, but I just kept thinking, ‘All he’s ever talked about is music, and I’m about to crush his dreams.’ You were starting this whole new chapter of your life, and despite what I thought had happened between you and that woman, I loved you, more than anything, and I wanted your happiness. I didn’t want you to hate me.”
“And you not telling me had nothing to do with punishing me for what you thought had happened between me and her?”
“You have every right to be angry, but please believe me; I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was trying to protect myself and my baby,” she said, her voice wavering at his outraged expression.
“By keeping my son from me? I never would have hurt you!”
“Not purposefully, but you were gone, Travis. There was nothing holding you back from your life but me. You had been given so many raw deals; I just wanted you to have your dream.”
Grabbing her shoulders, he shook her gently. “I loved you. I would have taken care of you both! I would have married you, Gemma. I would have provided for you.”
Pulling away from him, she snapped, “I’m sure you would have, financially. But you would have been on the road the rest of the time. You forget—I’ve been reading about your exploits for ten years.”
“That’s no excuse! You kept my kid from me because you were worried about me fucking around on the road? That wasn’t your call.”
“It was a valid concern, but I was also a kid, Travis. I panicked. I had so many reasons why I couldn’t tell you, and I made a decision that I thought was for the best. It wasn’t like you didn’t agree at the time. Ten years, Travis? In the ten years since I broke up with you, I haven’t heard boo from you,” she said.
She saw a flicker of what looked like regret pass over his face before he took on a defensive stance. “Are you seriously putting the blame on me? It’s my fault you didn’t tell me you were pregnant?”
Gemma heaved a sigh. “No, of course not. It was my decision, and mine alone.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Where is he?”
“He’s away at camp until next week.”
“Okay. I need some time to process this,” he said, turning away from her and walking to his truck. She jumped when he fired it up, spinning the tires as he pulled out of the parking lot.
Gemma walked to her own car door, but her hands were shaking so bad, she could hardly grip the handle. So many scenarios ran through her mind, ways she could have handled things better, but it was too late now.
Shoulda, woulda, coulda.
GEMMA WAS SO tired of feeling like shit. With the hangover from the weekend, the lack of sleep the previous night, and the stress, she was ready to have some Eternal Sunshine–style memory erasing crap done. She was just pouring a second cup of coffee when her cell phone rang. Pulling the black rectangle out of her pocket, she saw the caller ID for Camp Shoshone.
“Charlie?”
“Ms. Carlson, this is Roberta Wilson at Camp Shoshone. I’m calling because Charlie was in a fight this morning. As you know, we have a zero-tolerance policy regarding violence, so I’m going to need you to pick him up.”
Gemma gripped the phone. “What happened? Charlie doesn’t fight. Ever.”
“The fight wasn’t instigated by Charlie, but you could say he finished it. Both boys are being sent home early; that’s our policy.”
“What were they fighting about?”
“The other boy is one of our more troubled campers and, apparently, Charlie caught him bullying a few of the younger kids and tried to intervene. When the boy hit him, Charlie fought back.”
Gemma couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. Not that she condoned violence, but Charlie had a big heart. She knew how hard it was for people to go against the grain and stand up to bullies, and she was proud of Charlie for doing what most people wouldn’t.
“All right, I’ll leave now.”
Gemma walked out the door a few minutes later and drove through town to the bookstore. It would take her at least two hours to drive to the camp, which was located above Sun Valley in the Sawtooth Mountains, and with the drive home, she’d been gone half the day. She might as well stay home and spend some time with Charlie. She’d missed him like crazy, after all.
It would also give her a chance to tell him his dad was in town.
She thought about Travis’s need for time and wondered what would happen when he came face-to-face with Charlie. Should she let him know Charlie would be home early?
No. She’d give him his space, but she would have to tell Charlie. She could just imagine the excitement her son was going to feel.
She stopped in front of her shop and put up a CLOSED DUE TO FAMILY EMERGENCY sign. She was just climbing into her car when Gracie poked her head out. “Hey, aren’t you coming in?”
“I have to go get Charlie. He got into a fight at camp, and they have a zero-tolerance policy.”
“Charlie fighting?” Gracie asked, surprised.
“He was defending some other kids and the bully threw the first punch.”
“Yeah, that sounds logical. What do you need?”
“Nothing, If people wander over from next door and mention I’m gone, just say it was personal.”
“Have you told Travis about Charlie yet?” Gracie asked quietly, coming over to stand next to her car.
“Last night,” Gemma said, wincing. “It didn’t go well.”
“And again your lack of telephone communication is seriously putting you on my naughty list,” Gracie hissed, elbowing her. “Aren’t you going to elaborate?”
“I just kind of blurted it out, and then he said he needed time,” she said.
“Well, that’s slightly anticlimactic,” Gracie said, frowning at her. “So, you just told him and he just said, ‘Yo, I need space’?”
“Believe me, it wasn’t that casual, and it definitely wasn’t something I want to relive by telling you about it,” Gemma said, sometimes wishing Gracie would take a hint. “Let’s just say he was angry, accusations were thrown, and I’m giving him space.”
“Okay, fine, I’ll let it go, but you are the world’s worst storyteller,” Gracie said lightly, before clearing her throat. “On the subject of secrets, have you told Mike about your impromptu marriage?”
Gemma sighed. “No. I haven’t even talked to him. I’m hoping to keep the whole thing under wraps until it can be dissolved.”
“Haven’t you learned anything about secrets, young lady?” Gracie said jokingly, before adding, “Oh, by the way, your hubby made the Small-Town Scandals column this morning.”
Gemma groaned. “What did she say?”
“Not so fun when the gossip’s about you, huh?”
“Shut up and tell me!”
“She just mentioned that Travis was back to recapture your heart.”
“Great. Awesome. Is that it?”
“Most of it,” Gracie said with a sheepish grin.
“Now who’s withholding information?” Gemma said crossly, holding up her hand to stop Gracie’s no doubt witty rejoinder. “Can we play ‘The Roast of Gemma Carlson’ later? I’ve got to get Charlie.”
GEMMA KEPT LOOKING over at Charlie’s blackening eye and w
ishing she could have had a chat with the other boy’s mother. The only reason she hadn’t was because the bully had looked worse than Charlie, who had had several inches on him.
Charlie caught her looking at him and rolled his eyes. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“You get this look on your face when you’re about to go all supermom.”
Gemma laughed as she kept her gaze on the road and off her son. “I can’t help it. Mama bear’s mad.”
“I would have let it go after he hit me, but he called Kaylie the B word when she said she was going to tell.”
Gemma’s jaw clenched. She sometimes wished she could keep Charlie in a bubble, away from the world and all of the bad things that could happen to him. Every time she watched the news and heard about another school shooting, a cold sweat broke out when she pictured Charlie in a situation in which she couldn’t protect him. He had begged her to go to camp this year, and she had only agreed after talking to the owner and the camp director, and asking about the counselors’ background checks. And even then, it had taken Mike telling her she was being paranoid to get her to say yes. She knew she needed to relax and let Charlie be a kid, but it was hard to let go. Especially when the world around her told her every day to keep him sheltered.
“Mom? Are you okay?”
Gemma realized that Charlie was still talking to her. “Sorry, honey, got lost in thought for a moment there.”
“Can we stop at Stampede Burger? I’m starving.”
“Yeah, we can do that, but I need to tell you something kind of big,” Gemma said, trying to keep her tone even.
“What? Did you get me something? A four-wheeler?”
Typical boy. “No, I didn’t get you a four-wheeler. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Charlie was silent, and she caught his scowl out of the corner of his eye. “Your new boyfriend?”
“No, no boyfriend.” Taking a deep, strengthening breath, she continued, “It’s your dad. He’s in town.”