Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(5)

And then that snide voice had crushed her dreams and brought reality crashing down.

“Isn’t this sweet?”

Gemma would never forget the way her blood had frozen when she’d looked over Travis’s shoulder to see a thin blonde standing at the bottom of the tour bus stairs.

In Travis’s Toby Keith shirt. The one she’d had signed for him for his eighteenth birthday.

Gemma lay her head on the bed, squeezing her eyes tight against the threat of tears. He shouldn’t still be able to make her cry, but there it was. She only had to bump into him for a few painful minutes and all of the hurt and betrayal came back to her as if she was seventeen again.

A knock on the door broke through her misery and she wiped her eyes. “Coming.”

Anticipating room service, she picked up her purse and opened the door with a smile that melted the moment she saw Travis standing behind a cart.

“I bribed the guy to let me deliver it.”

Gemma groaned in frustration. Why was he still here? Was he trying to torture her?

“If you think I’m tipping you, you’re crazy.”


“No tip necessary. Just agree to have lunch with me.”

His smile was infectious, just like Charlie’s, and her heart contracted as she realized how much her son really did look like his dad. Even the devilish gleam when he knew he was wearing her down was the same.

“I think I’ll just stick with my chocolate cake,” she said.

“Gemma,” he said softly, just on the edge of pleading. She wanted to cave, to give in and hear him out. His face might be older, but Travis’s effect on her sure hadn’t faded. The little age lines around his eyes and mouth made him look ruggedly handsome, and they were doing crazy things to her libido. A libido that was telling her in no uncertain terms that ignoring it had not made it go away.

Charlie. Think about Charlie.

“I know how we left things, and I could have handled them better. I should have gone after you, but instead, I let my pride make all the decisions.” He took a step forward and tucked her hair behind her ear. Gemma’s cheek tingled where his fingers had grazed her skin. “I hear there’s a great Mexican restaurant inside one of the casinos a few blocks away. I would really love it if you’d take a chance and join me for lunch.”

A lump formed in Gemma’s throat, and her sane, rational side screamed at her to say no. What were they going to talk about? The way they had left things in Phoenix? That they had a nine-year-old son and she’d failed to tell Travis about him?

She could only stand there frozen as Travis leaned down and kissed her cheek. Moving his mouth against her skin, he whispered, “I’ve missed you, Gemma.”

Her eyes closed at his touch and her stomach flipped over like a flapjack. Swallowing the lump, she whispered, “Okay.”

“I’ll come back in about an hour,” he said, and she opened her eyes just in time to catch his smile, which seemed to have a triumphant edge to it.

Without waiting for her reply, Travis turned to amble back down the hallway, and Gemma was so frazzled, she almost forgot to pull the room service cart inside. She went back to shut the door and caught Travis’s gaze one more time before the elevator dinged open. He gave her a wink as he stepped inside.

Gemma closed the door and as she leaned back against the solid wood, it was hard for her to wrap her head around the serendipity of the past hour. She had come to Vegas for a little reading and relaxation, and now she was going to lunch with the man who had once been her whole world.

And she had no idea what she was going to say to him.

Of all the hotels in all the cities in all the world, Travis Bowers had to walk into this one.



TRAVIS HAD TRAVELED the world, was recognized by people every day, and women threw themselves at him constantly. Having perfected the ability to let nothing surprise him, he was known by his manager, handlers, and tour mates as having nerves of steel, even onstage.

But seeing Gemma again had rocked him to his core.

He’d grown up in the foster-care system after his mother had overdosed when he was five, and the only thing that had gotten him through eight crappy foster homes and schools had been music.

Until junior year, when he’d been moved to Rock Canyon and gone to the library at his new school to get a book for his English class. He’d asked a tall brunette with glasses for help, and Gemma had hooked him with her mossy hazel eyes and sweet smile. Travis had never had a problem getting girls, but he wasn’t the type to get serious . . . he’d never stayed in one place long enough.

But when Gemma had held out her hand and welcomed him to Rock Canyon, he’d been consumed by the need to find out everything he could about her. Most of the people he talked to had either called her a bookworm or “the fat girl in the library,” which had really pissed him off. The only helpful information he could get about her had come from his lab partner, Michael Stevens, a scrawny kid with long hair and glasses, who was a crack-up. They’d gotten on well which didn’t happen often for him, and he’d told Mike about the girl in the library.

“Gemma Carlson? Sophomore with glasses? She’s a nice girl; tutors kids after school, if you need some extra help,” Mike had said, giving him a sly smile.

Travis had taken the information and run with it, setting up an appointment with her the next week. When he’d walked into the library and their eyes met, her wide grin had been inviting and as warm as a fire, drawing him to her.