Half Empty (First Wives, #2)(33)

He hesitated.

“Screw it.” Four giant steps and he gave in to the desire. He lifted her surprised frame off the ground, pulled her body flush with his, and dropped his lips to her ear. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Wade!”

He kissed the side of her head, opting for something less personal, considering he had yet to savor her lips.

Yet, God willing, be the right word.

Damn, she smelled good. Something exotic with a hint of floral. He pulled in a deep breath of her scent and savored it to memory.

“Put me down,” she laughed.

His sunglasses had twisted on his face and fell to the ground when he let her go. Her spice colored eyes peered into his. “You came.”

“I told you I would.”

He couldn’t stop smiling.

“Okay . . . ohhh kaaay! This is good.”

Her chest shook with her laugh. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m a happy man,” he admitted freely.

She looked to the side and back again. “Do you think we should get out of the way?”

Wade followed her lead, found his glasses on the ground, and reached for her bag.

“I can—”

“But I’m going to,” he interrupted and placed the suitcase out of her reach. With his free hand, he reached for hers. Their first date was starting now, and he didn’t want anyone who might be watching to think for even a second that Trina wasn’t with him.

They made it within a yard of the sliding doors of the airport before three giggly girls cut them off.

“You’re Wade Thomas!”

“Oh my God, I love your music . . . we, we love your music.”

“Cassie and I were at your last concert in Dallas, so amazing!”

Three teenage girls, all talking at once, was enough to make anyone’s head spin.

Wade squeezed Trina’s hand.

Around them, people started to stare.

“I knew you lived here, but never thought I’d ever see you on the street.”

“Girls . . .” He looked around, lowered his voice. “We’re kinda in a hurry. How about we do a quick picture and you help block this door so we can mosey on out of here?”

The girl he assumed was Cassie pulled out her phone faster than a sheriff could draw a gun. Within two seconds he was sandwiched between three giggly girls in the center of a selfie. Before they could check the picture, Wade reached for Trina’s hand and pulled her out the doors.

He didn’t look back, he just kept walking. “Sorry ’bout that,” he said as he zigzagged through the crowd and toward the parking lot.

“You look like you’ve done that before.”

He managed to sneak a peek at Trina over the rim of his glasses as he crossed the parking lot in a slow run.

Lucky for him, Trina kept up.

“A few times.” He scanned the lot, pulled Trina to the left.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yup.” Damn . . . where was his truck? He didn’t dare look over his shoulder to see if they were being followed. His ten-gallon truck was in a lot filled with ten-gallon trucks. Maybe if he got a little—there it is! He moved faster.

Trina’s suitcase was in his hands and tossed into the back of the truck at nearly the same time he was opening the door for her to get in.

“What’s this?”

Wade brushed the flowers he’d bought her aside and hoisted her inside the cab.

“For you.” He managed a smile before closing the door and running to the driver’s side and jumping in.

The rearview mirror didn’t show a mob, so he took that as a good sign to draw in a breath.

Trina had picked up the simple summer bouquet and leaned down to sniff. That was when he saw movement out of her side mirror.

“Buckle up, little lady.”

Trina shifted her eyes to the side. “Seriously?”

“I’m afraid so. Teenagers are harder to shake than anyone our age.”

He turned over the engine and pulled out of the space before anyone could block his way.

One of the girls from the selfie was running toward a car.

He heard the click of Trina’s belt and used that as his cue to push down on the gas.

For a big truck, it sure maneuvered through the lot with ease.

There was a line leading out of the parking lot where he needed to pay the toll, and that was where anyone following would catch up.

Sure enough, a four-door, light blue sedan found him in line and cut off a car to inch closer.

He rolled down his window as he approached the booth.

A middle-aged woman stepped out of the little door to collect his ticket.

“How are you doing today?” he asked with as much southern charm as he possibly could. He removed his sunglasses, hoping the lady recognized him.

“I’m doing fine. Glad the heat isn’t killing us.”

Nothing.

Wade took off the baseball cap, ran a hand through his hair.

She disappeared inside the booth and rang him up. “That will be five dollars.”

Wade pulled out a fifty. “Ma’am, would you do me a tiny favor?” He handed her the money.

“Excuse me?”

He glanced over his shoulder at the carload of kids waving cell phones out of their window. “You see that carload of trouble back there?”