Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(54)

“Go where?” Travis asked.

“To the shelter! I like to ride my bike over there sometimes to look at the dogs. Mom keeps saying we’ll get one, but it has to be a perfect match, otherwise Penny will get upset.” Charlie scrunched up his nose.

“Penny?” Travis asked, suspecting it was a cat. Gemma had always adored the fuzzy little snobs, so much so he was surprised she’d never had more than one.

“Yeah, Mom’s cat. She’s okay, but she’s not a fan of dogs. When Callie comes over, she brings her dog Killer, and Penny always hisses and growls at him,” Charlie said.

“I’m pretty sure that’s just a cat being a cat,” Travis said, getting out of the bed and grabbing his bag. “I’ll go take a shower, we’ll grab some breakfast, and check out the shelter, if that’s what you want.”

“Yes!” Charlie said, running out of the room.

Travis smiled and shook his head. He couldn’t believe how quickly the kid had wormed his way into his heart. He was quite the character, and his mom was right; his high energy and cheerful demeanor reminded him of the girl he’d met in high school.

That girl was still under there, but could he trust her again? Travis still wanted her; that much hadn’t changed. Forgiving her was essential to his plan, especially if it meant giving his son something he had always craved: a stable, loving family.

Besides, she did promise me three dates . . .

No matter what happened between Gemma and him, though, he would make sure Charlie knew he was here to stay.



THEY WALKED INTO the Rock Canyon Veterinary Hospital and Shelter an hour later, and Charlie said, “Hey, Dolly.”

The dark-haired receptionist looked up with a smile. “Charlie, back so soon?”

“Yeah, I brought my dad to come look with me.” Charlie slipped his little hand into Travis’s and said, “This is my dad.”

Dolly held out her hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Bowers. I love your music.”

“Thanks,” Travis said, giving her a firm shake.

“Just head on back. Cats to the left, dogs to the right,” Dolly said, pointing to a pair of gray doors with clear labels.

Charlie started pulling him toward the dog door, but as he passed the cat window, Travis saw a fluffy little Siamese looking out at him. He stopped Charlie’s dragging, unable to take his eyes off the tiny thing, which would fit in the palm of his hand. Normally he wasn’t a big fan of cats, but the ugly creature sure tugged at his heartstrings.

“Hey, Dolly?”

Dolly came over. “Yes?”

He pointed to the runt through the glass. “Who’s this squirt?”

“That’s Stormy. She’s the last of her litter and keeps getting passed over because she’s eight weeks but half the size of her littermates. She’s got a tiny stubby tail, and well . . . she’s kind of homely.”

Travis looked at the small triangle face and pale blue eyes watching him curiously. Turning to Dolly with a smile, he said, “I’ll be back for her.”

Dolly’s eyes widened, and then her expression melted into that dreamy one most of his female fans wore. “Why, bless your heart. I’ll make sure she’s all ready to go.”

Charlie wrinkled his nose. “What do you want a cat for? Cats are jerks.”

Travis laughed as Dolly huffed. “Charlie, why would you say something so hateful?”

“Because that’s what Uncle Mike says. He says when you call a cat, they’ll ignore you until they want something, but dogs will follow you anywhere.”

Dolly shook her head. “I’ll go start that paperwork.”

“Dad, come on,” Charlie said insistently.

Travis followed Charlie into the dog room, and the noise was deafening. Charlie went to the first cage and pointed at a black-and-white dog jumping vertically in his kennel. “This is Taylor. He’s a border collie mix and he can catch the ball in midair.”

“How do you know that?” Travis asked.

“’Cause they let me take some of the dogs into the play area when they have time. I told Mom about him, but he chases cats.” Charlie moved on to the next cage and the next, naming the dogs and their attributes. Travis was reminded of his childhood again, dying for a home or even a pet, something that was his. A couple of his foster homes had had animals, and he remembered a chocolate lab named Rex he’d played with every day. It had broken his eight-year-old heart to leave Rex behind when he’d moved on.

When Charlie got to the last cage, he stopped. “Who are you?”

Travis came up behind Charlie and pulled down the name card. “Annie Oakley. Bloodhound. Owner surrender. Loves kids and other animals.”

Travis looked down at the big dog with soulful brown eyes and the longest ears he’d ever seen. “I think she could fly away with those ears.”

“She’s beautiful,” Charlie said in awe.

Travis looked down at his son, mesmerized by the dog. Annie trotted forward and whimpered, sticking her nose against the gate, and Charlie reached through the chain link to rub his hand over her nose. Travis watched Charlie, his heart squeezing at the wide grin that spread across Charlie’s face.


In just a day, Travis had realized that the difference between himself and his son was that Charlie still had the innocence that had been torn from Travis after too many disappointments. There had been no one in his life to protect that part of him, and he had lost it early on.