Half Empty (First Wives, #2)(64)
“He’s here?”
“Yup. He brought me a few things from home. Take your time. I’ll order some coffee.”
Trina leaned up on her elbow and smiled at the display of flesh Wade provided with his naked butt.
Wade caught her stare. “Keep lookin’ at me like that and Ike will hear more than I’d like him to.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” She let the blanket drop to her waist.
Wade’s eyes glossed over. “That’s just mean.”
She giggled. It felt good to flirt and tease. “Go.” She shooed him off and kicked away the covers to stand. “I wanna be there when Avery is out of surgery.”
She walked around the bed and toward the bathroom.
Wade snaked his hand around her waist, and their skin touched from knees to chest.
“Good mornin’, darlin’.” He greeted her with a kiss and a squeeze to her butt.
He felt so right it hurt. “Mornin’.” She used his Texan drawl when she pulled away.
By the time she made her way into the living area of the suite, Ike, Jeb, and Wade were drinking coffee and talking in hushed whispers.
They stopped when she entered the room.
“Don’t let me interrupt.” Trina crossed to the room service coffee and poured a cup.
The silence in the room made her pause. She moved the coffee cup to her lips and found three sets of eyes trained on her. “What?”
Wade offered a nervous laugh. “What are your feelings on the tabloids?”
She lowered her cup and glanced at the table the three men were sitting at. Even from across the room, she could see her image splashed on the front page.
“Let’s see,” she said as she moved to get a better look. “The tabloids tell entertaining lies attached to photoshopped pictures. They have one tiny truth in their web of deceit and bastardize the First Amendment. They get away with splashing their blasphemy to the world because dragging them into court is a colossal waste of time and money.” The first magazine she picked up was a picture snapped by the photographer the day before, asking who she was as they ran into the hotel. Since they got her name right, they must have found out. It read: “Is Wade Thomas Off the Market?”
The second one was of her the previous year at Fedor’s funeral. Wade’s picture was of him onstage at a concert. The headline read: “Will the Black Widow Strike Again?”
The third one was a less flattering image of Wade and her holding hands outside the doors of the hospital, laid over a picture of her Hamptons home surrounded by police cars. The caption? “Tragedy in the Hamptons.”
Trina put her coffee down and picked up the magazine with the two of them outside the hospital. “Is my butt really that fat?”
Wade started to chuckle.
Jeb sighed and Ike grinned. “Okay, then. You found a woman who understands the media.”
“I wish I didn’t.”
“I don’t like that they’re calling you names,” Wade said.
“I don’t like how they made my butt big.” Trina made an effort at looking at her own ass over her shoulder.
Wade swatted it with a playful smile.
Ike turned to Wade. “Corrine wants to know all about Trina.”
“Who is Corrine?” Trina asked. How many women did Wade have in his life?
“My publicist,” Wade explained. “Tell her she’s my girlfriend.”
Ike regarded them with a lifted eyebrow.
“Don’t look at me,” Trina said. “He started the whole girlfriend thing . . . I was just looking for a good time.”
Wade turned toward her and lifted her off her feet, his hands firmly on her not-as-big-of-a-butt as the tabloid led others to believe. He twirled her around. “I’ll give you a good time,” he teased.
Smiling was starting to truly work the muscles in her cheeks and make them ache.
She liked it.
“You’re adorable,” he told her.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and let him hold her off her feet a little longer. “Do you really want to tell the world you’ve got a girlfriend?”
“What I want is to tell the world that you’ve got a boyfriend so no one else comes knockin’.”
“I doubt I’ll be good PR.”
“I could not care less about any of that,” he said.
Wade kissed her, briefly, and set her down.
“Tell Corrine, Trina is my girlfriend and we’ve been practically inseparable since we met.” He tapped Trina’s nose. “Including a secret trip to the Bahamas on a private plane.”
“That was platonic,” she said.
“No one has to know the details. Besides, the tabloids will find it if we don’t reveal it.”
She sighed. “Fine. Your mother is gonna be pissed.”
“Again with my mother. I’ll deal with her. Don’t worry. What about your parents?”
Trina hadn’t given it a lot of thought. “I should probably call them. They don’t know about any of this as it is.”
“You haven’t told them?”
She shook her head. “If I told them about you, my mother would remind me that it’s only been a year since Fedor’s death. She’s Catholic, and while she doesn’t want me alone my whole life, I can guarantee she will think it’s too soon for me to be dating anyone, let alone be in any kind of relationship. My dad will want to meet you as soon as a plane can fly him here.”