Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(27)

“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 f*cked in Vegas, she’d made her point.

He already knew what was coming when he pulled the letter out of the envelope, but it didn’t make the stab of betrayal hurt less.





Travis,

Thank you so much for a wonderful time. Seeing you again was so surprising, but I’m happy I got the chance to get to know you again. I feel like we finally found our closure. I am sorry to leave without saying good-bye, but I have things that I must get back to. I’m not exactly sure what happened last night, it’s a little hazy, but the ring gave me a clue. I’m sorry for the part I played in what was obviously a mistake brought on by too much alcohol and nostalgia. Please send the annulment papers to the address below.

Forgive me,



Gemma



Travis crumpled up the letter, a cold, casual Dear John knock-off that was worse than if she hadn’t said good-bye at all.

Getting his cell phone out of his pocket, he used Google to search for the nearest car dealership. She wasn’t getting off that easy. Not this time. Ten years ago he’d been a kid, unsure of what he wanted.

He was a man now. And he wasn’t giving up his wife without a damn good reason.





Chapter Seven




* * *





GEMMA STOPPED OFF in Winnemucca, Nevada, to fill up her tank and grab an Egg McMuffin. She usually tried to stay away from junk food, but she was starving and needed comfort food.

Her phone rang while she was in the drive-through and she picked it up reluctantly. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, honey. I was calling to see how Charlie was liking camp.”

Gemma tried not to think too harshly about her mom, but it seemed as if whenever she called, they talked about Charlie and what he was up to, and that was it. She never asked how Gemma was doing. Gemma had had a strained relationship with her mother over the last few years.

I guess she assumes I can take care of myself.

“So far, so good.”

“Good. Is he making friends?”

Cupping the cell against her cheek, she handed the drive-through clerk her debit card. “He said he was. You know how social he is.”

“Yes, he is quite the ham,” her mother said, sounding amused.

The girl handed Gemma her coffee and bag of food, and she whispered, “Thank you.”

“Who are you talking to?” her mother asked.

“I’m in a drive-through, Mom.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry to bother you. Are you on your way home?”

“You aren’t bothering me—”

“You shouldn’t talk on the phone and drive anyway. Call me when you make it home. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said, and realized the call had ended. She pulled into a parking space and ate her food; she only went inside to eat at sit-down restaurants. Gracie called her a weirdo, but Gemma always felt awkward, especially when she was alone.

She thought about calling Gracie. It was ten o’clock in Rock Canyon, an hour ahead, and everyone was probably in church. Still, she pulled out her phone and dialed her friend’s number.

“Are you finally coming home?”

Gemma laughed. “Yep. I’m in Winnemucca right now. Just filling up, getting some food, and I’ll be home.”

“Did you have fun? Meet any hot guys? Do anything besides reading and being boring?”

“Gee, thanks. You’re a peach.”

“Seriously, tell me what happened,” Gracie said.

I saw Travis; we had wild, crazy sex. And got married.

“I stayed in my hotel room, read all my free books, and took a lot of baths. No guys, no booze, nothing,” Gemma lied.