Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(78)

“No, he wouldn’t, but he wasn’t the only thing in your life that made you distance yourself from love, Gemma. You forget, I was the one who held you after school when one person after another bullied you and took a little more of your strength. Until one day you stopped crying. That worried me more than anything. It was like you shut down your emotions, tuning out the hurt and pain until you were like a shell. I kept telling your father to go easy on you, but of all you kids, you were the one he couldn’t get a handle on. James, Dawn, and Drew; I love them to death, but they never tried to color outside the lines like you did. They were easy because they decided early on that it was better not to make waves. And then you came along, and you were vibrant, independent, and such a dreamer that it made your father crazy. He wasn’t much for things he couldn’t understand.”

Her mother reached out and brushed her hair back from her face as she continued. “But don’t ever think he didn’t love you, Gemma. He didn’t have the best role model of what a father should be, and that handicapped him from really getting close to you. I know we’ve been over it, and you don’t like me to make excuses, but you need to forgive him for everything, and not just the last few years. If you don’t let go of all that anger, you’ll never be able to let your guard down and be happy with anyone, let alone someone who pushes you like Travis. And you deserve to be happy, honey.”

Gemma processed her mother’s words and whispered, “Travis never had a dad, and his mom was a junkie. He was sent to eight different foster homes, but he’s a wonderful dad.”

Her mother laughed softly. “I’m sure he is, but none of us are perfect, Gemma. Travis is going to make his own mistakes with Charlie, just like you have. The thing about people is we’re flawed; we’re going to mess up, and it’s up to those around us to get us back on track.”

Gemma’s eyes stung as she thought about how mad Charlie was with her now and wished her mother didn’t make so much sense.

For some reason, she still couldn’t let go of the video and, clearing her throat, she asked, “Will you excuse me, Mom? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Before her mother could stop her, she practically ran down the hall to the guest room, shutting the door behind her. She hadn’t gotten around to cleaning it yet, and the room still held the spicy scent of Travis’s cologne. With desperate, jerky motions, she opened the package, knowing she had to watch the video, no matter what it showed her. Finally, she took a deep breath and sat on the end of the bed, holding onto the remote for dear life.

The words Travis and Gemma’s Ceremony popped up on the screen, and with shaking hands, Gemma pressed play.

The sound of soft organ music began as the picture came into focus. Seamus stood under an arbor, yelling at the person behind the camera, and a red-haired woman Gemma remembered as his wife came to stand next to him, flicking his ear. The view moved slightly to the right and Travis came into view, moving up to join Seamus. Gemma’s vision blurred as she watched his attention shift and his handsome face split into a wide grin. The camera turned slowly and she saw herself in that cream ball gown, walking up the aisle with a goofy smile, her eyes glued on Travis, smiling under the arbor. The camera followed her until she almost reached Travis and then zoomed in on his face. Travis’s blue eyes sparkled like crystals, and she could have sworn she saw tears in them before he reached out and pulled her to him. As she watched, she remembered that feeling of Travis kissing her, clinging to his hard biceps as he told her without words that he wanted this. He wanted her.

In the video, Seamus cleared his throat and hissed, “Hey now, boyo, there’ll be plenty of time for that after.”

Gemma watched the couple pull apart. Now she couldn’t see her own face, but she could see Travis’s. It was filled with joy and . . . warmth. Love.


As Seamus went through the vows, the camera moved. Gemma, her face flushed with color, repeated after him without looking away from Travis.

I, Gemma Anne Carlson, take thee, Travis Charles Bowers . . .

Before, Gemma hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Travis’s face during the ceremony, or whether or not he’d really cared about her, but staring at the woman in the film now, she could remember how she felt standing up there, reciting those words. And the only person she’d ever wanted to say them to was Travis.

She loved him. Beyond reason, logic, or fear. She’d been holding on to the past so tightly that she hadn’t been able to listen to herself and what was best for her.

Gemma had been half alive until she’d met him, and when he was gone, she’d put her heart and soul into their son. But the minute she’d found Travis again, that spark had returned.

He was her light. He was her strength.

And she had blown it, big-time.

“Gemma?” her mother called, coming into the room. Gemma tried to hide her tears and turn off the DVD, but her mother had already seen it.

“Oh, Gemma.” Her mother sat down next to her on the bed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It was so comforting; Gemma longed to turn her head and sob into her shoulder, but she didn’t want to break down.

As if she didn’t feel Gemma’s stiffening, her mother said, “I still remember the first day you brought Travis home to meet us. I saw the way you were with him. After you started dating, your daddy told me he thought Travis was too mature and would take advantage of you. I didn’t agree, though. When you were with Travis, I watched as that little spark you used to have started to come back, and you shined, honey. He brought out the best in you, and you were good for him.”