Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(3)

Maybe that water-under-the-bridge stuff would have worked for the teenaged, lovestruck girl she used to be, but she was nowhere near that forgiving now.

“It’s good to see you, Travis. If you’ll excuse me . . .”

He side-stepped her before she could even try to pick up her bags. “Whoa, what’s your hurry? No ‘hey, Travis, how you been?’”

He clearly wasn’t going to make escape easy.

“I said it was good to see you,” she said, reaching for her bags again.

“Yeah, but—”

“Fine,” she said, making sure the sarcasm was apparent under her candy-cane tone. “Well, hey, Travis. It’s been a long time. How are you?”

“Now, was that so painful? I’ve been great, Gemma,” he said, giving her back snark for snark. “About to start a tour break, which is—”

She bent down for her books again, but this time he reached out and took her hand. “Gemma, stop.”

His touch shouldn’t still have the power to reduce her to rubble, but the warm calluses sliding across her skin distracted her.

Forget about it. He could have picked up a phone in the last ten years, but he just went about his life. He doesn’t have the right to act hurt.

Jerking her arm away with more force than she intended, she snapped, “What do you want, Travis?”

He seemed to be struggling with his answer, so when the elevator dinged and the green-uniformed attendant asked, “Going up?” she grabbed her bags and fled inside.

Before the doors could close, though, Travis jumped on with her. “What are you doing here, besides buying a bookstore’s worth of romance novels?”

“What are you doing? Was it not clear by my practically running away from you that I’m not in the mood to catch up?” As an afterthought, she grumbled, “And there aren’t that many.”

“I think you underestimate my ability to pester. And you never told me why you were here.” The elevator traveled upward, stopping on her floor with a slight lurch, and he pushed, “I’m waiting.”

The elevator doors dinged open and she stepped out, the sound of his boots behind her making her teeth hurt, and she realized she was clenching her jaw. She opened her mouth a couple of times to relieve the tension.

“Let me help you with those,” he said, his hands grazing hers as he grabbed the handle of one of the bags.

“I have them, thanks,” she said, trying to shake off his hold.

“Why are you being so difficult? I know we left things badly in Phoenix, but this hostility is a little much, don’t you think?” he asked, his smile tight as he pulled the bag his way.

“I think it’s just fine.”

“Come on, Gemma, at least tell me what you’re doing here. We used to be friends, you know.”

“You are such a pain in the ass!” she nearly yelled, pulling a little harder on the book bag before letting go and answering, “I’m here for a book conference. Are you satisfied?”

“Not hard—”

He didn’t finish the sentence as the sound of ripping paper echoed down the hallway and the handle of the bag snapped, books scattering around his feet.

“Shit,” he said, staring down at the piles of books.

“Damn it, Travis,” she said, unlocking her hotel room and putting the doorstop down. “You always had to get your way, no matter how irritating you had to be. Now look what you’ve done. You bent some of them, and they were signed!”

Suddenly Gemma realized she was yelling at the prince of country music in the middle of a Vegas hotel hallway about books. Glancing around, she thanked her lucky stars that no one popped their heads out to see who the crazy woman was.

Kneeling down, she started gathering the books in her arms and carried them inside. When he tried to help, she said, “Don’t. Please.”

He put up his hands. It took her two trips to finish, with Travis watching all the while, waiting, she supposed, for her to stop and resume their conversation.

She needed to stay away from him, though, before all that blue-eyed charm melted the steel wall she had put up to keep him out of her heart.

God knew, Charlie used that same Bowers charm to get around her constantly. It wouldn’t take much for Travis to make her forget that they weren’t good for each other, but more importantly, his lifestyle definitely wasn’t good for their son.


“Good-bye, Travis. Good seeing you.”

“Come on, Gemma—”

She shut the door on him and leaned back against it, tears hovering on the edges of her eyes. She’d let her guard down for just a second downstairs, and maybe she had been a little harsh after, but letting Travis get even a tiny hook into her was a mistake she couldn’t afford to make.

Walking farther into the room, she picked up the phone and pushed one for room service.

Forget a salad. This is definitely a chocolate cake kind of day.



TRAVIS BOWERS, MULTIPLATINUM, award-winning country artist, was hot under the collar.

She had actually slammed the door in his face.

He could understand it from any other woman, but from Gemma, who had never been the kind to lose her temper or make a scene? It was like his world had taken a turn right into the twilight zone. Which would be another way to explain bumping into Gemma in, of all places, the City of Sin.