Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars(80)

He’d also put in a call to Sally Barrett of Rock Canyon Realty, who was getting him a list of land for sale in the area. If he had some time, he might as well build his dream house, and for that he needed the perfect spread.

Pulling out his cell phone, he called Gemma’s home phone. He wanted to talk to Charlie to see how he was doing.


And tell Gemma how much I miss her.

Of course he missed her. He missed her lying next to him, running her finger over his stomach as she talked to him. He missed the way her glasses slipped down the bridge of her nose, and the way she cursed as she pushed them back up. The warmth of her hand in his, the smell of her skin, and the way she laughed. Everything about being away from her reminded him of how much he wished she were there.

“Hello?” an older woman’s voice sang on the other end of the line.

“Hello. I was calling to talk to Charlie.”

“I’m sorry, he’s not here right now. Travis? Is that you? It’s Gemma’s mom.”

“Mrs. Carlson? How are you?” he asked. He’d always liked the older woman; she’d been a lot friendlier than her husband.

“I’m fine, Travis, and I think you can call me Jeanie. After all, we’re family now.”

Awkward. “Thanks, Jeanie. Do you know when Charlie’s going to be back?”

“Not sure, maybe in a few hours. That kitten you brought home is just the sweetest thing,” she said.

Home. Clearing his throat to cover the emotion in his voice, he said, “Yeah, she is. I miss the little squirt.”

“I think she misses you, too. I know Charlie sure does . . .” Jeanie said, before adding, “and Gemma.”

I doubt that. “Can you just let Charlie know I called?” Travis asked, avoiding her subtle hint.

“Sure can, Travis. Thanks for calling,” Jeanie said.

As he sprawled across the king-size bed, his hand smoothed the empty place next to him, and for the hundredth time in the last two days, he wished Gemma was there.

Suddenly, there was a knock on his door, and with a sigh, he stood up to answer it.

He looked through the keyhole and pulled the door open. “Hello, Chelsey.”

“Hey, Travis,” she said, reaching out to hug him. He sidestepped her, her eyes narrowed, and he wondered why he’d ever thought it was a good idea to mess around with her. It had only happened once, and he’d stopped it before anything serious had happened, but it was also the last time he’d invited her out drinking with the rest of the crew. He’d tried to let her down easy, but, apparently, she’d been holding a grudge.

“Heard you wanted to see me,” she said, placing a hand on her narrow hip.

“Yeah, I just wanted to let you know you won’t be opening tomorrow night,” he said, thinking about all the hell this woman had caused because she was angry with him. She was about to find out that you didn’t mess with him.

He could tell the minute his words registered and her self-assurance melted away. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re off my tour and off the label, effective immediately,” he said, pulling a beer from his mini-fridge and popping the top.

“You . . .” she stammered, “you can’t do that!” Her voice rose on the last word, and she looked like she was on the verge of stamping her foot.

“Honey, I’ve been with this label for ten years and have made them a lot of money. You’re nothing but a jealous twit who likes to talk to the press when she doesn’t get her way. If I see you again on my tour, or find out that you talked to the press about me or my family, I’ll do more than send you back to singing in bars. I’ll make sure you never work in Nashville again.”

Chelsey’s skin turned a milky green as her voice broke. “Come on, Travis. I wouldn’t do that. It’s not even like I knew your little girlfriend’s last name, anyway.”

“But you knew we went to high school together,” he said, tipping back the beer and chugging half of it down. “The thing about reporters is, they say their sources are confidential, but as you proved firsthand, everybody has their price.”

No longer playing the victim, she smirked. “You think you’re untouchable, Travis? I’ve got friends, too, powerful friends, and they won’t let you fire me.”

“If you’re talking about any of the studio executives you’ve f*cked or even your manager, believe me, they won’t help you.” He finished up his beer and smiled. “Everyone has their dirty little secrets, Chelsey, and it turns out yours is married men. I don’t need to tell you that although people love a good cheating song, homewreckers are never tolerated.”

He saw that he finally had her scared and walked to the door, holding it open for her. “So, here’s the deal: You get the hell off my tour, and as long as I never see your face again, I won’t be tempted to sling my own dirt around. Are we clear?”

She stomped past him in a rage and hissed, “Fuck you, Travis.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”



ON FRIDAY MORNING, Gemma was twisting her hands nervously as she got off the elevator in Travis’s hotel. Charlie had wanted to come with her, but she’d told him she needed to talk to his father by herself first. Gracie had dropped her off at the Boise Airport on Thursday afternoon, but she hadn’t been able to get on a flight to Sacramento until six a.m. that morning.