Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(43)

“I wouldn’t know. Only talked to him for about five minutes,” Travis said, downing the next one.

“Gemma’s a good mom, too,” Eric added, pouring again.

“Again, I wouldn’t know, although I have my doubts.” He downed his third shot and said, “Anyone who can keep a father from his kid isn’t exactly of strong moral character.”

“I know it’s none of my business, but Gemma is a good woman, Travis,” Eric said.

The last thing Travis wanted to hear about was Gemma’s virtues. Throwing down some money, he took the bottle over to a table and sat down.

God, how could he have been so wrong about her? What the hell had possessed her to think it was better to lie than trust him? His hand squeezed around the bottle, he wished again for something he could hit.

“Hey there, Travis,” a feminine voice said.

Travis looked up and tried to smile. “Kirsten, how the hell are you?”

Kirsten Winters had always been a little on the ditzy side, but she had been hotter than the Fourth of July in high school. If anything, she was even hotter now.

“I’m good. Want some company?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure I’d be much fun to be around. Had a bad day,” he said, taking another shot.

“Poor baby.” Patting his hand on the table, she said, “Wanna come back to my place? Talk about it?”

Kirsten and he had dated for a few weeks in his junior year, but even with that history, he wasn’t tempted. He was too pissed off to think about sex, and despite everything Gemma had done, he wasn’t the type to cheat on his wife.

“That’s sweet, honey, but I’m married.” His ring had been packed away in his bag after Gemma had requested that he not tell anyone, but who cared now?

Kirsten’s face showed her surprise and disappointment. “Oh, well, congratulations. Who’s the lucky woman?”

“Travis Bowers? Check it out, Walt, it’s Travis Bowers.”

Travis grimaced and turned his gaze to Wayne Coulter. He had despised the Coulter brothers: they were rotten bastards. Wayne was the leader, and Travis had busted his nose senior year when he and his brother had cornered Gemma in the bathroom at a party. When he’d heard her screaming, Mike and he had burst in on Gemma, smashed between the two guys. Pulling Wayne out, Travis had thrown him against the wall and gone after him. All he remembered past that was Gemma pulling on him, begging him to stop.

“Wayne, Walter,” Travis said coolly.

“Well, I can’t believe it. Mr. Superstar himself back in Rock Canyon. What happened, Travis? Country music find out you were a hack?”

Travis grinned. “Hey, you know what, Wayne, the nose looks good. Can hardly see the lump.”

Wayne’s face flushed. “Shithead. Just ’cause you sucker punched me doesn’t make you some kind of hero.”

“Wayne!” Eric yelled from behind the bar. “I warned you what would happen if you started shit in my bar.”

Walter, the weaker of the two, blurted out, “We’re just talking, Eric.”

“Yeah, we were just saying hey to our old buddy, Travis,” Wayne said. “We won’t start anything.”

Eric glared but kept cleaning the glass in his hand. Travis shook his head. He could handle whatever Wayne Coulter dished out.

“Hey, Kirsten,” Walter said, eyeing the flashy blonde. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Kirsten sat down across from Travis. “Sorry, Walt. I was just talking to Travis.”

Travis caught Walter’s disappointment and would have felt bad for him if he didn’t know what a little snake he could be.

“So, how long are you in town for, Bowers?” Walter asked.

“Not sure yet,” Travis said.

“Gonna go see your old friend Gemma?” Wayne sneered, and Travis stiffened at his tone.

“Already seen her,” Travis said.


“She really looks good now that she lost all that baby weight,” Kirsten said casually, and Travis shot her a dark look.

“Better than you remember, right? I mean, I never minded the extra meat on her, just more cushion . . .”

Travis stood up and grabbed Wayne by the collar. “Do not say another f*cking word.”

Wayne threw up his hands and said, “Whoa, man, I was just saying she got better after high school, that’s all.”

“Do not look at, speak to, or talk about my wife again,” Travis growled.

“Wife?” The Coulter brothers and Kirsten gasped.

Travis let Wayne go and said, “Yeah, wife. So do us both a favor and don’t give me a reason to kick your ass again.”

Travis grabbed his bottle of Jack, planning on heading back to the motel to sleep, but he should have known that Wayne Coulter was still as stupid as he’d been in high school.

“So, why’d it take you ten years to marry her, Bowers? Is it because she’s finally a stone cold fox, or ’cause you found out about your bastard kid?”

Without thinking about the consequences, Travis transferred the bottle to his left hand and turned on Wayne Coulter. With the full force of his rage behind his right fist, Travis broke his nose. Again.





Chapter Thirteen




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