Locking the door, she went into the bathroom to take out the contacts, which really were bothering her, and hopped into the shower, hoping the hot water would clear her head.
I have to get it together and stop being such a crybaby. Travis said he wanted to make this marriage work. I just have to tell him what I need.
Stupid, smart voice, making everything sound so easy.
AFTER SPENDING AN hour going over reception details with Mrs. Andrews, Travis was ready to impale himself on the fireplace poker. Thank God Gemma finally came back downstairs, looking refreshed, although she still wouldn’t meet his eye.
He’d been a moron for not realizing how he’d made things sound, like he was putting them on the back burner. The problem was, he hadn’t talked to Big George about how his marriage would affect the way they’d always done things. Big George would be supportive, but there would definitely be an adjustment period. It was about time he took charge of his schedule and events, and cutting back would help show Gemma he was serious about them. First chance he got, he’d call George.
Mrs. Andrews was picking up her things as she said, “Oh, Gemma, are you going to call your mother, or do you want me to?”
Travis covered his mouth to hide his smile at Gemma’s outrage. “I’ll call my own mother, thank you.”
Mrs. Andrews gave Gemma a sharp glance but must have decided to hold her tongue. “I’ll be in touch then, if I have any other questions.”
Travis held the door for her as she walked out, and once it was shut, he strode over to his wife, wrapping her in his arms. “Hey. About before, the tour, I just . . .”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to . . .” Gemma started.
“Shut up and listen. I haven’t talked to Big George yet, but when I do, all of my interviews, and anything else, will be done on concert days. That way I can be home more, and spend all my extra time with my son and my beautiful wife.” Leaning down, he kissed her lips softly. When she didn’t pull away, he took that as a good sign and deepened the kiss.
The door banged open, and Travis heard Charlie say, “Yech. You aren’t going to do that all the time, are you?”
Gemma started laughing against his mouth, and Travis moved away to give his son a black look. “What’s the matter with a man kissing his wife?”
Charlie’s face was comical. “But it’s . . . my mom.”
Travis looked from Gemma to Charlie and said, “How ’bout whenever I’m about to kiss your mom, I say, ‘Avert your eyes’?”
Charlie looked down at Annie, as if getting the dog’s opinion telepathically, and shrugged. “Okay.”
Grinning, Travis said, “All right, now that we’ve established that, why don’t you avert your eyes for about five minutes?”
“Five minutes? Gross with a capital gag!”
As Charlie left the room, Travis and Gemma burst into hysterical laughter. When they finally calmed down, the tension was gone, and Gemma went into his arms willingly.
“I’m sorry,” Gemma said.
“It’s okay,” he said, kissing her hair, “You just gotta trust me, Gem. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
“I know.”
As they stood there holding each other tight, Charlie yelled, “Can I come out yet?”
They tried ignoring him, but by the third yell, Travis was exasperated, and Gemma squeezed his waist. “Welcome to parenthood, where privacy is a forgotten thing.”
He chuckled and kissed her again, thinking that he could deal with the lack of privacy as long as he got to have Charlie and Gemma.
Chapter Twenty-Two
* * *
TRAVIS WAS SLIPPING on his boots on Saturday afternoon when his cell phone rang, Big George’s grinning face flashing across the screen.
He tapped the answer and speakerphone
buttons. “What’s up, George?”