Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(29)

All I have to say is this: they need to just come out of the closet (or storeroom), before they hurt each other. And as for Officer Morgan . . . well, the man is grade-A beefcake . . . I don’t think he’ll be lonely for long.

Gemma looked up from the paper with a raised eyebrow. “Well? Is she right?”

“Ugh!” Gracie threw up her hands and turned her back on Gemma to start making her drink. “I have told you a million times, there is nothing, I repeat nothing, between me and that great, obnoxious, infuriatingly oafish buffoon.”

“That’s quite a few adjectives,” Gemma pointed out as she eyeballed the display case, her gaze zooming in on the muffins.

Gracie whirled around and pointed a stirring stick at her. “That’s because my hate runs so deep it brings out the scholar in me.”

Gemma snorted, unimpressed by Gracie’s answer. “I wonder how she gets her information.”

“Who cares? The fact that that woman has only been active a month is terrifying. Did you know she also created a Small-Town Scandals blog online, complete with tip-mail? People can freaking slip her little tidbits of information like she’s some kind of small-town Gossip Girl!”

“Technically, she is a small-town gossip girl,” Gemma said.

“My point is, by getting her tips from everyone, she could be anyone. But she won’t be able to keep this up. Sooner or later, I will ferret her out, and she will pay for her assumptions and wild accusations!”

Gemma laughed at Gracie’s dramatics. She knew that there was more to Gracie and Eric than she was telling, but since Gracie had never been very good at keeping secrets, Gemma figured this one must be important to her, so she didn’t pry. Much.

Besides, if she doesn’t tell me about Eric, then I don’t have to tell her about Travis. Smart.

“Okay, fine, you are one smart woman and anger makes it more noticeable. Is there a medical term for that condition?” Gemma said.

Gracie finished pouring milk into a white travel cup, turned, and pointed to her apron. “Do you see this? This is why you shouldn’t mess with me yet. I haven’t had enough of either lately.”

Gemma’s eyes dropped down to Gracie’s apron of the day and she smirked. ESPRESSO SHOTS ARE LIKE MEN; THE MORE YOU HAVE, THE NICER YOU GET.

Gemma shook her head. “Oh, Gracie Lou, what am I going to do with you?”

Gracie handed her the cup and smiled. “Just love me and accept that I have no shame.”

“None.” Gemma laughed and took a sip of the hot drink, a satisfied hum escaping her lips. Gracie knew what she liked, and her order never changed. “That is fantastic.”

“Of course it is. I made it.” Suddenly, Gracie’s gaze shifted over her shoulder and her eyes bugged out. “Gemma . . .”

Gemma turned just in time to see Travis walk through the door of the coffee shop, the doorbell’s ding echoing in the unusually quiet atmosphere. His eyes locked on hers, and beneath the charming, lopsided grin, she saw a tightness around his mouth that gave away just how furious he was.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He approached her slowly, and with each step, her throat tightened more, cutting off her air. When he stopped in front of her, he pulled something white and lacy from his pocket.

Her missing underwear.

“Usually when Cinderella ditches the prince, she leaves behind a shoe.”



GEMMA SNATCHED THE panties from his dangling fingers and stuffed them into her purse. “What are you doing here?”

Without answering her, Travis yanked her to him hard and fast. She gasped, and he took full advantage, taking her mouth in a deep kiss. He knew it was more punishing than passionate, but when he’d looked through the window and seen her smiling like she didn’t have a care in the world, all his good intentions had flown out the window. He’d planned on stopping by her store to talk to her calmly, like a mature adult, but while he’d driven half the night and woken up to his hotel-room neighbor blaring AC/DC at the crack of dawn, she’d been here, getting back to her life. Probably thinking she was in the clear.

And just like that, he broke away from her, gently brushing his knuckle along the soft curve of her cheek. “You didn’t wait for me.”

Her mouth was open, but she didn’t seem to be able to form words. Good.


He turned his attention to Gracie and held open his arms. “Gracie Lou, don’t I get a hug?”

With her round eyes and tilted head, Gracie’s expression reminded him of a curious owl. Slowly, she came around the counter, her attention flicking back and forth between them. When she reached him, instead of giving him the hug he’d been expecting, she punched him in the gut.

Travis doubled over, more from surprise than pain. “What the hell was that for?”

“For Phoenix. And for whatever you’re doing right now.” Gracie crossed her arms over her chest and turned toward Gemma.

Travis looked between them, surprised Gemma hadn’t told Gracie about them. “I bumped into Gemma in Vegas and we—”

“It was nothing!” Gemma broke in, shooting him a warning glance.

So that’s how you thought this was gonna go?

“Really? Then why did you forget to mention running into Travis last night?” Gracie asked, crossing her arms.