Page 83 of Good Girls Don't Date Rock Stars (Rock Canyon, Idaho 2)

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LIPS ON THE back of Gemma’s neck woke her up Monday morning, and she murmured, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. I seem to have tiny vermin nesting in my hair,” Travis said, amusement in his voice.

Turning a little, she saw Stormy curled up on his pillow, near the top of his head. “Aww, sweetheart, are you cuddling with Daddy?”

One pale eye opened and a loud purr rumbled from the little kitten.

“She’s vibrating.” Travis laughed, reaching up to pull the ball of fur down between them.

Gemma took Stormy from him and brought her against her chest. “There, isn’t that much better?”

“Now don’t let that cat get too comfortable,” Travis growled playfully, his hand creeping toward her chest.

Laughing, she slapped at his hand. “Man, you’re a lech.”

“Can’t a man be lecherous with his own wife?” Travis asked, still trying to

touch her.

The thumping of small feet and paws sounded above, and Gemma rolled out of bed holding Stormy. “Well, play time’s over. I’m going to get dressed.”

Travis sat up a little, resting on his elbow. “That’s fine. I’ll just lay here and watch.”

Setting the kitten back on the bed with a kiss, she picked up her black tank top from the floor and slowly slipped her arms inside, watching his expression. “I would think watching me get dressed wouldn’t be a big turn on.”

“You’d be surprised what turns me on about you,” he said, his gaze moving down as she pulled on her yoga pants.

“Stop teasing me,” she hissed, heat rising to her face. The man was outrageous.

A knock came on the door and Charlie said, “Mom . . . you need to see this.”

Gemma didn’t like the sound of worry in Charlie’s voice and threw the door open with trepidation. “What’s the matter, Charlie?”

“They’re all over the front yard,” Charlie said, his eyes wide.

“Who is?” Travis asked from behind her.

Gemma knew already without him having to say it and ran down the hallway to the living room. She pulled back the curtains a little, and bright camera flashes blinded her as shouts sounded through the glass.

Dropping the curtains again, Gemma grabbed her glasses from the table as Travis, shirtless, came running out to the living room.

“Why are they here, Travis?” Gemma said. “I thought George had things under control.”

“There might have been a leak,” Travis said, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

Gemma’s heart plummeted and the blood in her veins began to boil. “Might have been or was?” Travis’s guilty look said it all, and she snapped, “So, you knew there was a chance they would show up here sooner rather than later and you didn’t warn me? When did you find out?”

“Saturday, before the fair. I thought it was handled.”

Gemma hoped her look spoke volumes. She would deal with Travis after she got the trespassers off her lawn.

“Charlie, stay away from the window,” she ordered as she picked up the phone.

“Who are you calling?” Travis asked.

“The police station. I’m going to ask Sam to run them off,” Gemma said.

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