Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(30)

Gemma’s face was red and her expression shamed. “I didn’t forget. I just didn’t mention it.”

“She also probably forgot to mention that we’re—”

Gemma’s hand clamped over his mouth, her eyes blazing at him, but beneath that he saw pleading. A niggle of concern crawled up, and Travis let her hand stay where it was. There was something more going on here; why else would Gemma keep something so big from her best friend?

Maybe she just didn’t want to look like an idiot.

“Gracie, I’ll talk to you later,” Gemma said, releasing Travis’s mouth long enough to grab his hand and drag him out the door. He let her lead him down the street, satisfied that he’d finally broken through her innocent, shocked routine. Now they could get down to an honest conversation.

She stopped in front of a red door and slipped a key into the lock. Travis took in the stenciled writing on the window: Chloe’s Book Nook. He smiled at the cartoonish calico cat that sat above the word Nook and followed her inside when she pushed the door open. A smell of books and vanilla hit his nose.

“What are you doing here, Travis?”

The rage and frustration that had been simmering below the surface of his skin started to burn and his smile disappeared. “Why wouldn’t I come here?” He turned around and faced her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re my wife. We spent a magical night together, and I just happen to have a break in my tour that allows me to spend several weeks with you.”

“I thought you would—”

“What, Gemma?” His voice was low and dark as he approached her. Grabbing her shoulders, he gave her a gentle shake. “What? You thought I’d just read your letter and be grateful? That I’d think, ‘You know what, she’s right’ and leave you alone, just disappear from your life again?”

She stopped struggling, and he could tell by her expression that that was exactly what she’d been thinking.

“This is my home, Travis. You can’t just show up here and disrupt my life,” she hissed.

“I’m not trying to disrupt your life. I just want to know why you left without talking to me. At least trying to work out what happened,” he said.

“What happened is we got drunk and did something stupid. End of story,” she said.

“No, that’s not the end of it, sweetheart,” he snapped before he could rein in his temper. “Like it or not, we’re married. It wasn’t something I planned, but that’s the way things are, and you could have at least given me the courtesy of waking me up and talking about it.”

“What’s there to talk about, Travis? We haven’t seen each other for ten years and yes, I had fun with you, but we want totally different things,” she said, sounding almost disappointed. “You and I . . . we don’t work anymore. We’re too different. Our worlds are too different.”

He took a calming breath and thought about her words. It was true that their lives were different, but that wasn’t a kill switch for a future. People called alcohol truth serum, and if he’d stood up and pledged himself to Gemma legally, deep down he must have wanted it. Which led to a whole new line of crazy he could sift through later, but right now, he needed to make her understand that he took what they’d done seriously. He wasn’t going to let her just sweep it under the rug as a drunken mistake.

Especially since it took two to say “I do.”

He had been developing his strategy over the whole drive, and he’d come up with an idea he was going to propose before he lost his cool. He needed to prove that there was more to what had happened than a wild weekend gone wrong. Gemma had said he didn’t know her; well, what better way to get to know someone than to date them?

She’d never agree to it, though, until she got over whatever had her in a panic. He needed to prove to her that it wasn’t over, not just like that. There was too much left between them for closure, or whatever her letter had said.

And he would prove it to her.

“I thought we were working really well together,” he said softly, his tone seductive. He took her hand, holding it gently when she tried to pull away and caressing the back of it with his thumb. He saw her shiver and smiled as he brought it up to his mouth, his lips hovering above her knuckles as he spoke. “When we were in your hotel room, and I had my hands on your body, running them over your skin . . . you felt so good.” She licked her lips and closed her eyes. He pulled her closer, trailing his lips from her wrist to her elbow, placing her arm over his shoulder. “And the taste of your skin . . . all the little sounds you made when I played with your breasts . . . and when I was deep inside you.”

He wrapped his arms around her, his large hands splaying across the curve of her ass and using it to pull her against him. Her breath whooshed out as he pushed against her and knew she could feel every inch of his erection between them. He could feel her body relax into his, and her other hand held onto his biceps, her eyes opening slowly, meeting his. He saw the matching desire in those mossy depths and dropped his lips to her temple, trailing them over her skin until his mouth reached her ear. He nipped the small shell teasingly, and her body tightened against his, making him smile as he added, “I can show you again, if you don’t remember.”





Chapter Eight