Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(19)

“Gem, look at me.” When she did, his hand brushed her cheek, wiping away the tears. “This is nothing to cry over. Those SPCA commercials are something to cry over, but us?” She gave a little smile, he kissed her.

They sat there for the longest time, their soft breathing and the meeting of their lips the only sounds in the silence.

When he finally pulled back, he said, “Getting a second chance with you is something I don’t want to just give up on. I didn’t fight for you before, but I’m in this now. I want you. I hope you can keep an open mind and give me a chance.”

“You don’t even know who I am anymore,” she said softly.

“I’d like to remedy that, if you’re willing,” he said, brushing his mouth over hers. “What do you say? One more chance?”





Chapter Four




* * *





TRAVIS WAITED IN the brightly lit lobby at six, anxiously checking his watch. It wasn’t that he was necessarily excited about the charity event; they really were boring. It was the knowledge that he would have Gemma by his side all evening, dancing with her and introducing her to people, that was making it impossible for him to relax and wait patiently.

He’d been thinking a lot since running into her, wondering if this was fate’s idea of a second chance. Maybe he hadn’t been ready ten years ago—they had both been too young to settle down—but now the timing was right.

The elevator dinged, and Gemma stepped out, her hands holding up the crinkly skirt of her creamy gown as she walked. The heart-shaped neckline and halter style of the dress showed a good portion of white skin, and Travis nearly swallowed his tongue. Her hair was pulled back loosely from her face with a rhinestone-studded hair band, and the half updo became a waterfall of brown curls around her shoulders. Her makeup was light and tasteful, but it was the smile that made her truly beautiful. Gemma’s bright, happy smile as she walked toward him, waiting for his reaction, was magical.

Stopping in front of him, she spun around. “What do you think?”

After a moment’s hesitation, he reached out to take her hands in his, bringing them up to kiss her knuckles. Staring into her eyes, he said, “You’re gorgeous, Gem.”

Cheeks turning pink, she protested, “It’s the dress. And the hair and makeup. They did such a good job . . . .”

She stopped talking when he pulled her against him and kissed her, not caring who saw. When he drew back, he held up a black square jewelry box. “Here.”

“What is this?” she asked, taking the box hesitantly.

“A thank-you.”

She gave him an exasperated look as she opened it. “Travis, you already paid for my hair and . . . oh!” She stared down, and he smiled as she pulled the teardrop-shaped diamond necklace from the box.

He took it from her and unclasped it. “I thought you might like it.”

“I can’t accept this,” Gemma said, putting her hand over his. “It’s too much.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, slipping it around her neck. Once it was secure, he slid the clasp up to hide it under her curls. “There. Just enough.”

Her hand reached up to cover it and her mouth opened, but he caught her protest with a kiss.

Releasing her mouth slowly, he said, “And it’s you, Gem. It’s not the dress or the makeup, it’s you.” Taking her hand, he set it on his sleeve and said, “We should probably get going before I forget myself and take you back upstairs.”

To his surprise, she snorted. “Not on your life, pal. I’m running on five hours of sleep and enough caffeine to keep an elephant awake, and it took me three hours to get ready. We are going to this party.”

Biting back a grin, he said, “Whatever you want, Cinderella. I’m at your disposal.”



GEMMA HAD TRIED to avoid the line of reporters outside, snapping photographs, and had been thankful when Travis had introduced her to the owner of the hotel, Callum O’Shea. Callum had helped her bypass the paparazzi and come in the back way, while Travis had strutted his stuff.

The first thing she’d asked when they’d made it inside was where the bar was. Callum, who was in his early thirties and very handsome, with an Irish brogue and laughing green eyes, had snagged a couple of glasses of champagne, and they’d made small talk until Travis had joined them, his arms snaking around her waist. There were several more photographers inside. Every once in a while Gemma caught a flash, and her stomach tightened.

This is a public event, being covered by newspapers and magazines. I might as well just do my best to have a good time.

They’d sat down for dinner, and Gemma had choked when she’d learned how much her plate of half-eaten rosemary chicken had cost. She hadn’t been very hungry—her nerves were too shot—but the champagne helped take the edge off.

After dinner, Gemma had gripped Travis’s arm tightly as he led her around the large ballroom, introducing her to various celebrities and people she’d never heard of but who were, apparently, CEOs of some very important companies. Callum had introduced Travis and Gemma to his friends, Jake Warren—who owned a multimillion-dollar online dating site, TheLastFirstKiss.com—and Jesse Prince. Gemma recognized Jesse, who was the quarterback of the Boise Grizzlies, Idaho’s professional football team. Once she told him she was from Rock Canyon, it had opened up the conversation to places in the area to hike. Gemma had never been much for outdoorsy things, but she had enough friends who did to know where to go.