After what felt like forever, she reached a hand up and touched his face. “Can you forgive me, Travis? Can you let everything go, really?”

Turning his head to lay a soft kiss on her palm, he said, “I’m going to try. What about you? For Charlie?”

She dropped her hand. “Sure, Travis.”

He realized she thought that was his only reason, but it wasn’t true. He did want to be near his son, but he hadn’t chased Gemma across two states because of Charlie. He’d come after her because he wanted her.

“Gemma, I just meant that he wants us to stay together, and I think we should give it

a shot,” he said, stepping back to give her space but still keeping his hand on her shoulder. “But I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I didn’t want to be with you.”

He felt her relax under his hand, but her expression shifted to one of concern. “What if the media finds out about Charlie and me? How do we protect him?” Gemma wrapped her arms around her waist.

“No one knows about my life here or who you are except George,” Travis assured her. “When I finally tell the media about us, it’ll be controlled. I’ll give an exclusive, no holds barred, and that will put a squash on it.”

“But how are we going to make this work?” Gemma asked, reaching up to grasp his hand. “You’re going to leave on tour for months, and when you come back, it will be for what? A weekend?”

“We’ll figure it out. Maybe you guys can come on the road with me sometimes, too,” he said, but by her doubtful expression, he figured he hadn’t eased her fears. “Why don’t we concentrate on right now, and let the rest sort itself out?”

Chapter Eighteen

* * *

“I DON’T KNOW why we had to bring the dog,” Gemma grumbled as she grabbed the picnic basket off the seat. They’d decided to have lunch at 1000 Springs Park and swim for the afternoon, but Charlie had insisted on bringing Annie. Gemma had protested, but both Travis and Charlie had overruled her.

Travis smiled from across the truck seat as he grabbed the cooler. “It’ll be fine.”

Gemma sighed and watched Charlie running toward the water with the hound close on his heels. “Charles Michael, you get back here! We’re going to eat first, and you still need sunscreen.”

“Mooom!” Charlie protested but ran back toward her.

“Chaaarlie.” She smiled as she mocked him.

Charlie grabbed the blanket from Travis with a groan. It was already getting hot at eleven, and Gemma had dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a plain black tank top over her polka dot tankini. Sitting down on the blanket the guys had spread, she was rummaging for plates and forks when she found herself with a lap full of hound. “Hey! Get off me, dog!”

Said dog’s response was a big wet lick from her chin to her hairline.

Male laughter reached her ears as she dropped the plates and pushed the dog off her lap. “Gross. Off!”

“She likes you, Mom,” Charlie said, sitting down next to her, and Annie switched her affections back to her young master.

Gemma grabbed the pack of wet wipes she’d brought and glared at the dog, who stared back at her with dark, warm eyes. Gemma wiped her hands and face before picking up the plates again and filling them with food. Travis sat down on her other side, and she shifted a bit away when the scent of him started getting to her. It didn’t help that every time she looked up, he was watching her exactly like the dog. Like she was something to be studied for weaknesses and then overcome.

While Travis and Charlie shoveled food into their mouths and talked about different superheroes, Gemma watched their interactions. It wasn’t just their facial features that were similar but their mannerisms and expressions. The way Charlie skipped over the potato salad and went straight for the BBQ chips, just like Travis. Her dad used to say that blood didn’t lie. Despite never having been around each other, Charlie was more like Travis than she’d thought.

Charlie took the last bite of his chicken, wiped his mouth on his napkin, and jumped up. “Can I swim now?”

“Half an hour,” Gemma said, taking a bite of her salad.

“Okay.” Charlie sighed and grabbed a stuffed fox from his bag. “Come on, Annie.”

Charlie started squeaking the stuffed toy and the hound went crazy. Smiling, she watched Charlie romp with the big dog. His childish laughter drowned out the sound of her own thumping heart as Travis moved closer to her and reached into the ice chest for a Coke. Purposefully or not, he leaned into her arm, pressing the hard muscles of his chest against her, and she resisted the urge to shiver.

“I think he loves that dog, don’t you?”

His breath tickled her bare shoulder, and she scolded herself for almost moving her neck closer to his mouth. They were in a public park with their son, not in Vegas, or a hotel room, or anywhere else where it might be okay for her to be thinking about him kissing her neck, trailing his rough hands over her bare thigh, or her slipping her hand under his shirt. Maybe helping him remove the shirt completely so she could run her mouth over those chiseled abs . . .

Oh good lord, I have to stop this.