Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(71)

“Can’t a man be lecherous with his own wife?” Travis asked, still trying to touch her.

The thumping of small feet and paws sounded above, and Gemma rolled out of bed holding Stormy. “Well, play time’s over. I’m going to get dressed.”

Travis sat up a little, resting on his elbow. “That’s fine. I’ll just lay here and watch.”

Setting the kitten back on the bed with a kiss, she picked up her black tank top from the floor and slowly slipped her arms inside, watching his expression. “I would think watching me get dressed wouldn’t be a big turn on.”

“You’d be surprised what turns me on about you,” he said, his gaze moving down as she pulled on her yoga pants.

“Stop teasing me,” she hissed, heat rising to her face. The man was outrageous.

A knock came on the door and Charlie said, “Mom . . . you need to see this.”

Gemma didn’t like the sound of worry in Charlie’s voice and threw the door open with trepidation. “What’s the matter, Charlie?”

“They’re all over the front yard,” Charlie said, his eyes wide.

“Who is?” Travis asked from behind her.

Gemma knew already without him having to say it and ran down the hallway to the living room. She pulled back the curtains a little, and bright camera flashes blinded her as shouts sounded through the glass.

Dropping the curtains again, Gemma grabbed her glasses from the table as Travis, shirtless, came running out to the living room.

“Why are they here, Travis?” Gemma said. “I thought George had things under control.”

“There might have been a leak,” Travis said, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

Gemma’s heart plummeted and the blood in her veins began to boil. “Might have been or was?” Travis’s guilty look said it all, and she snapped, “So, you knew there was a chance they would show up here sooner rather than later and you didn’t warn me? When did you find out?”

“Saturday, before the fair. I thought it was handled.”

Gemma hoped her look spoke volumes. She would deal with Travis after she got the trespassers off her lawn.

“Charlie, stay away from the window,” she ordered as she picked up the phone.

“Who are you calling?” Travis asked.

“The police station. I’m going to ask Sam to run them off,” Gemma said.

Sam picked up the phone on the second ring. “Rock Canyon Police Department.”

“Sam, it’s Gemma,” she said, her voice trembling with adrenaline.

“Hey, Gemma, everything okay?”

“No. I need you guys out here. Some reporters have decided to make their new home on my lawn,” she said.

“Hope mentioned seeing news vans on her way to work. How many are there? You want me to arrest them for trespassing?” Sam asked, talking in his usual fast pace.

“I don’t know, a lot. And you can do anything you want with them, as long as they’re gone soon,” Gemma said.

“All right. We’ll head over there and take care of it.”

“Thanks,” Gemma said, hanging up the phone. Turning to her son, she said, “Honey, go pack a bag. You’re going to stay with Grandma for a little bit.”

“But, Mom . . .”

“I mean it, Charlie. Please?”

Charlie went upstairs with a petulant expression on his face.

“Don’t you think you’re panicking a little? People were going to find out eventually. At least if we talk to someone, give them a candid interview, we can get ahead of this,” Travis said after Charlie closed the door of his room.

Gemma fumed at his casual solution, waving off the fact that he’d kept vital information from her. If only Travis had opened his mouth instead of “handling it,” she could have taken Charlie somewhere to wait for the chaos to die down.

All she’d ever tried to do was protect Charlie. From bullies. From snakes and cars and awful people, and now it was all for nothing. She couldn’t shield him from the things that people would say about her, about Travis, even about Charlie himself.

“I can’t believe I let this happen. I knew better. I should never have gone to that stupid book conference or let you talk me into lunch or that benefit or . . .”

“Whoa, back up. So, what you’re saying is it would have been better to never have seen me again? And just kept Charlie and me apart?” Travis asked, his face turning purple with anger.


“I don’t know, maybe! Or at least for you not to have tricked me into marrying you when I was drunk,” Gemma snapped, knowing the words were a lie but too furious to care.

“I didn’t trick you into anything. You wanted to marry me.”

“Really? Funny that I can’t remember half of it.”

“You weren’t drunk when you told me you loved me,” Travis said pointedly.

“Maybe I was wrong about that, too. God knows I’ve been pretty stupid the last week and a half,” Gemma said coldly.

Travis took two steps toward her, and she had to crane her neck to look up at him.

“Are you trying to say you don’t love me, Gemma? That you want me to leave?”

Stop being an idiot and apologize. This isn’t his fault.