“Your idea.”
“Yeah, it was. And we started making out on the old straw—”
“Which smelled disgusting.”
“And then the hay started moving, and suddenly we were surrounded by a family of hissing possums.” His chest shook with laughter as he remembered.
“I don’t think I’ve ever screamed so much in my life!” Her laughter mingled with his, and she wrapped her arm around his waist. “God, I wanted to kill you for talking me into that.”
“But you didn’t,” he said softly, sliding his arm down to rest his hand on the curve of her hip.
“No, I didn’t. You could always get around me with those pretty blue eyes and that boyish, aw-shucks smile.”
His thoughts strayed to that night in Phoenix, when he’d told her nothing had happened. “Not always.”
Her body tensed against his, and he felt her head tip up. He glanced down from the road and caught her frown.
“In Phoenix, nothing I said would convince you that I didn’t betray you.” She let him go and started to scoot away, but he tightened his hold on her waist. “I’m sorry to bring it up. That wasn’t our agreement.”
“Its fine, Travis; we have a past. It was silly to try to pretend we don’t have issues to work out and things we need to handle before this gets any deeper.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet.
“Maybe you should just take me to my car.” Her whispered suggestion made his guts tie up in knots. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to end, but he still had two more dates.
The car was quiet on the way to the lot at The Local Bean, where Gemma’s Subaru was parked. Travis got out of the truck and went to her side. When he opened her door, she said, “Look, Travis—”
“Stop. If you’re going to tell me this isn’t going to work, just stop.” She closed her mouth, and he put his hands on her waist to help her down, teasing, “The only thing I want you to tell me is how you can’t wait for our next date.”
“Travis, listen—”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re ignoring me?”
“Because you’re ignoring me!” she snapped.
“Okay, we’ll talk,” he said dropping his hands from around her waist. “I wasn’t trying to be a jerk, I just—”
“I have a son,” Gemma said softly.
It was the last thing he was expecting her to say, and he couldn’t deny that the confession stung. However, it wasn’t the end of the world, and it did explain her squirrelliness.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he smiled. “That’s great. What’s his name?”
“Charlie.”
That threw him a little. “That’s funny, ’cause Mike’s mentoring a kid named Charlie . . .” Travis stopped and frowned.
“Mike just said that because he knew I hadn’t told you yet.”
“He’s your son? But he looks like he’s—”
“He’s nine. Charlie’s nine.”
Travis was starting to think this was some kind of joke. Anger and hurt churned inside him as he processed her words. Mike had lied to him because . . . Charlie was his? But if that were the case, wouldn’t Gemma have married him? Mike had said he loved her, but she’d never felt that way.
He thought back to that picture of the smiling kid with curly brown hair and blue eyes . . .
Just like his.