“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?”
She looked and shook her head. “Kids today.”
“Well, you see, they have in their mind to follow us, and I’d just as soon get a head start.”
She peered closer. “Why would they wanna do that?”
From the passenger seat, Trina spoke up. “He’s Wade Thomas. I’m not sure if you listen to country music—”
The light bulb went on. “Oh, dear, yes . . . you do look like Wade Thomas.”
“Is Wade Thomas,” Trina announced.
“Yes, ma’am. Those girls are having a hard time understanding personal boundaries. So can you maybe take a little longer to process their ticket? Maybe give me a few extra minutes to get on the highway?”
She stood a little taller and ran a hand over her stomach. “I’d be happy to help you out, Mr. Thomas. Let me get your . . . your . . .” She waved the fifty in the air, looked at it. “Change.”
“No, no, that’s for your trouble. Thank you, Miss . . . ?”
“Lou Lou . . . everyone here calls me Lou Lou.”
“Thank you, Miss Lou Lou.”
“Goodness, Wade Thomas.” She stared, her cheeks flushed.
The person in the car between him and the teenagers honked.
Wade pointed at the gate.
“Oh, of course,” Lou Lou said, ducking back inside to let them out.
Wade waved out the window once he saw the barrier arm go back down and the next car pull up.
“That was crazy.”
“Welcome to my life.”
“Whoa.” Trina was staring out the back window.
“Is she holding them back?”
“Oh, yeah.” Trina started to laugh. “No wonder you were shocked I didn’t know who you were.”
“It’s not often I go unnoticed.” He pulled out on the frontage road before speeding onto the freeway. Only then did he look in the mirror to see if they were being followed. He blew out a breath.
He glanced over to find Trina staring, the flowers he brought her sitting in her lap. “You really are famous.”
He smiled. “Are you just figuring that out?”
“Apparently. Is it hard? Or do you love the attention?”
“I’d be lying if I said I hated every minute of it. The first time someone recognized me in public had me high for a month.”
“So what keeps you grounded?”
He thought about that. “Not a lot. My mama makes sure to tell me to take out the trash and reminds me to muck the stalls when I’m home. Sounds crazy, but doing things I have to hire people to do for me when I’m not around brings me back to earth.”
Trina was silent for a moment. “Your mom sounds like she’s a big part of your life.”
“She is. I respect the hell out of the woman. Raised me all on her own with only a high school education. Sacrificed her needs over mine, time and time again. A lot of parents don’t do that.”
“Does your mom live with you?”
“I built a guest house at the ranch. She insisted, even though I thought it wasn’t necessary. She didn’t want my girlfriends thinking I’m a mama’s boy, even though I’m comfortable enough to tell the world I am.”
Trina was silent.
That’s when he remembered her conversation about her late husband . . . and his devotion to his mother being so deep the man couldn’t deal with her death. “I’m not him,” Wade said. The smile from his face fell slightly. “I love my mother, and the day she passes will be excruciating, I’m sure. But I will live without her when it comes.”
Trina studied her lap. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I am. I should have realized that might be a hard thing for you to hear.”
“I’m okay.”
He reached over and placed his hand over hers. “Let me tell you about my home.”
Chapter Thirteen
Trina had inherited Alice’s ranch. The sprawling home was a little over six thousand square feet, complete with a stable for the four horses, a corral, and a barn large enough for the tools and equipment someone needed to maintain the land. She’d been in Texas long enough to see a couple of impressive spreads that people called home.
Then she pulled through the gates of Wade’s home.
Half Empty (First Wives #2)
Catherine Bybee's books
- Not Quite Mine (Not Quite series)
- Wife by Wednesday(Weekday Brides Series)
- Not Quite Dating
- Taken by Tuesday
- Fiance by Friday (Weekday Brides Series)
- Not Quite Enough
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- Treasured by Thursday (Weekday Brides Series Book 7)
- Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)
- Staying For Good (Most Likely To #2)
- Making It Right (Most Likely To #3)
- Fool Me Once (First Wives #1)