Half Empty (First Wives #2)

“Yes, Ike told me. Why would you ask her to be here when you know we broke up?”

“Now that you’re home from the tour, I thought you’d be getting back together. She said you two were on hold, that when you returned—”

“It doesn’t matter what Jordyn told you. I wasn’t on a break, we were broken.”

“She’s such a sweet girl, honey. Exactly the kind of girl you need. She understands your business, your life here in Texas.”

Wade placed both hands on his mother’s arms. “Broken, Mama. I will spare you the details since you don’t need to know, but trust me, it was never going to work. Now, I appreciate the fact that you care enough to meddle, but stop. I can manage my own love life.”

“With Trina?”

“With whomever I choose. You didn’t pick my dates in high school, so please don’t try and pick them now.”

“What am I going to say to Jordyn?”

Wade narrowed his eyes. “Is that what this is about? You’re embarrassed?”

Vicki answered by keeping her mouth closed.

“Tell her what you have to, or don’t tell her at all and I will. Again. But please, keep the chill factor to a minimum with Trina.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Fine!”

He kissed her cheek and walked away.





Chapter Fourteen

Trina thought Wade was taking her on a predinner walk, but apparently, he had other plans.

They found the lake, which was hidden by a stretch of trees at the far end of the manicured portion of his property. “It’s beautiful.” And quiet, which was nice, considering the buzz of noise up at the house.

He pointed out the cattle grazing on the hillside behind the lake.

“Because cattle,” she said with a laugh.

“When in Texas.” He laughed with her.

He walked them up to an old log cabin. “This has been here since before the previous owners.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I had it cleaned up and the roof repaired, but kept it original. No running water, no electricity.”

He opened the door, and inside, someone had set a table for two.

“What are you up to?” she teased.

“Tomorrow I have to share you, but tonight I thought this would be better.”

Relief, knowing she wouldn’t have to sit across from Vicki, had her smiling. “First date worthy.”

“I do have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

He moved inside and reached for the bottle of wine on the table. He’d already pulled the cork. “You liked red, if I remember right.”

“And you like beer.”

“Yes, but I’m not so redneck that I don’t enjoy wine once in a while.”

She doubted that.

“I do. I’ve even been wine tasting.”

“Oh, really? Where?”

“Uhm . . .” He blinked. “Napa.”

“What wine did you like the best?” she quizzed.

“Expensive.” He lifted the bottle of wine. “So if I spend a lot on the bottle, it’s got to be good, right?”

“Not really, but that’s okay. There might be something I can teach you.” Wade making an effort to please her placed several coins in his goodwill jar.

“I like the sound of that.” He handed her a glass and poured one for himself.

“To first dates.”

“First dates after we’ve shared private planes and hotels in disaster zones together.” She clicked her glass to his.

She sipped and lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “This is actually pretty good.”

Wade puffed out his chest.

“See, expensive equals good.”

Trina lifted the bottle to see the label and bit her lip. “Wade?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you consider expensive?”

He looked away. “I don’t want to tell you what I spent. Ruins the whole feeling I’m trying to create.”

She stopped him with a glare.

He shuffled his feet. “Wanna eat?”

“Wade?”

“A couple hundred dollars, I think,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

She placed the bottle down, sipped the wine. “If you paid two hundred dollars for this bottle of wine, I’d be careful of anyone trying to sell you beachfront property in Kansas.”

“There isn’t beachfro—” His charming smile fell. “Jeb said it was good,” he confessed.

She started to interrupt but he kept going.

“But I have been wine tasting, in San Francisco . . . which is technically Napa . . . ish.”

Damn, he was charming. Like a kid wiping his mouth clean of chocolate after being caught in the cookie jar.

It felt fabulous to have someone care enough to try so hard.

“Don’t hold it against me. I wanted to impress you.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Really?” He stopped shuffling.

“I am. I don’t know why you’re trying so hard.”

He put the glass of wine down. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been busting my nuts just to get you here. Now that you are, I don’t want to blow it with the wrong wine or my mom doing her best iceberg interpretation.”

She set her wine next to his. “You can’t control your mother or how she’s acting, and if you don’t know about wine, it isn’t a deal breaker. I’m here, whether I should or shouldn’t be.”

“You definitely should be.”

Again with the charm.

He stared, his gaze moving to her lips.

Would he . . .

Wouldn’t he . . .

“We should eat.” He looked away.

Her heart dropped. “Or you could kiss me.”

Apparently Wade didn’t have to be told twice.

Two steps and he pulled her into his arms and didn’t give her a chance to say she was kidding. Not that she was.

His lips were on hers like an exclamation point, his hand to the back of her head. It was as if he was shocked to be there, until he wrapped his arm around her waist and softened his hold.

With every ounce of breath, he moved into their kiss and let her know that this was something he was good at. It wasn’t wine, it wasn’t controlling his mother . . . it was seduction.

He moved slowly, like there wasn’t a care in the world other than letting her feel their lips mingle, his tongue ask permission and then take possession. He was smooth, unhurried as he sparked fire under her skin.

This was good, probably too good.

He changed his angle, explored deeper.

And he held her. As if he never wanted to let her go.

She wasn’t sure how long they kissed or if the lack of oxygen broke it off or the sound of a distant animal brought them around. But when Wade’s lips left hers, he’d left a little of himself behind.

“Wow,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

“I’m happy to hear you say that.” His eyes peered into hers. “I want to take this slow, and I’ve never wanted to take anything like this slow before in my life.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

He took a conscious step back and pulled out her chair. “Let’s eat.”



He couldn’t sleep.

The memory of her lips, the taste of her heart . . . and she was one door away.

“No.”

He had to say the word out loud to stop him from walking the few steps to her room. Wade Thomas was good at a number of things . . . singing, charmin’, seducing . . . and making older women wish they could turn back the clock . . . but he sucked at waiting. Holding back for Trina put him, and his body, in the most uncomfortable position he’d been in for a mighty long time.

What kind of masochist was he that he welcomed the feeling? If it wasn’t pitch-black outside, he’d saddle up Black Star and take the stallion for a ride. He probably wouldn’t survive it, but it would match the burning he felt all over.

He had it bad.

The woman had found a way under his skin, and he had no intention of scratching that itch to make it go away.

He’d written enough love songs to identify what was going on inside of him. This wasn’t lust, although that was part of his needs . . . no, Trina was more. The part of a song that brings meaning to the chorus. She hadn’t looked off in the distance once since she’d been there, which gave him hope she wasn’t considering her late husband. In fact, it was her that initiated their first kiss.

He smiled into the memory.

Sweet . . . tasty, and a hint of spice.

His thoughts made his body tighten even more.

“Go to sleep, Thomas . . . that ain’t gonna happen tonight,” he whispered into the night, to himself.

He rolled onto his side and forced his eyes closed.

All he saw was Trina.