Of course, he would make sure she was okay with him ducking out before taking off. He felt he owed her that.
On his way back to the hotel, his phone buzzed in his back pocket.
“Where the hell are you?” The roughness of Jeb’s voice had Wade smiling.
“Miss me?”
“Seriously. How am I supposed to sit still when I don’t know where you are?”
“Calm down, Jeb. I’m in the Bahamas.”
“What . . . why?”
“I met a woman.”
Jed groaned. “A phone call would have helped.”
“Good thing you called, then.” Wade turned the corner and onto the street of the hotel.
“I assume there aren’t any flash mobs around.”
“It’s an island. I’m safe. I’ll probably be heading back today.”
“That was quick. Did you at least get her name?”
Wade rolled his eyes. “Trina Petrov, and it isn’t like that, so knock it off.”
Jeb was unusually silent on the other end.
“You still there?”
His phone clicked twice before he heard a dial tone. “Guess not,” he said to himself.
Chapter Eight
“You don’t have to leave.”
“If I value my head, I think I should just make my way back to Texas, where the women are a tiny bit nicer than the ones in this hotel room.”
Trina glanced over her shoulder to find Avery and Lori staring.
Trina narrowed her eyes, and they both looked away.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Wade told her. “I’m glad your friends are loyal enough to hate me on sight just out of principle.”
“Misguided as that is.”
Wade chuckled.
Heaviness sat in the back of Trina’s throat.
Wade stood before her, suitcase at his side, cowboy hat on his head. Their goodbye felt oddly out of place.
She tried to smile. “Kinda glad you hit on me in Miami,” she told him.
His killer smile and flirty eyes took over. “Still bummed you didn’t take me up on my offer.”
“Bad timing.”
“I know that, darlin’.”
She sighed.
“Well, I’ll get back to my regularly scheduled life and leave you to your friends.”
Trina rubbed her hands on her pants, not sure if she should shake his hand or hug him.
Apparently she was the only one unsure of what to do.
Wade wrapped his arms round her shoulders and pressed his frame against hers in a hug that fueled her soul. When he pulled away, he pressed his lips to her forehead, stood back, and picked up his suitcase.
“Oh, by the way. The clerk at the phone place said there was a tracking app that was messing things up, and that if you had any problems, you should delete it and reinstall.”
“Tracking?”
“Like one of those friend apps you women use to keep track of each other.”
“Oh, okay, thanks.”
She walked him a few feet to the door.
He opened it. “I might have put in my number, in case you wanted to take me up on those dance lessons.”
Trina saw herself accepting his offer. She placed a hand on his arm, caught his eye. “Thanks, Wade.”
He winked before turning away.
His jeans sure did hug his hips well.
She started to close the door before she heard him say, “You can stop staring at my butt now.”
Trina laughed. “Vain much?”
Wade just chuckled as he sauntered out of sight.
Avery clicked her tongue when Trina walked back into the room. “A country singing cowboy? Really?”
“He’s a nice guy,” Trina defended.
Lori lifted her phone and started to read. “‘Wade Thomas, thirty-four years old, and one of the most celebrated country singers of this decade, and how he loves the ladies. It’s said he has broken hearts all over the country and a few places in Europe, as well.’”
“Gossip magazines. We all know how accurate those are.”
Lori twisted her phone around. “This was in the Austin Press.”
“Still sounds like gossip,” Shannon said.
“Thank you, Shannon. Glad to know someone is on my side.”
“But most gossip holds some truth,” she added.
Trina stuck her tongue out.
“He is very cute, though,” Lori said with the first smile Trina had seen on her since they arrived.
Trina felt her face heat up. “I kinda like that Texas drawl.”
“Oh. My. God!” Avery exclaimed. “He’s a musician.”
“I think you have to call him more than that.” Lori held up her phone. “Sold out concerts, platinum records . . .”
Avery wanted nothing to do with it. “Every single musician I ever went out with was a total douchebag.”
“And how many was that?” Trina asked.
“I couldn’t even tell you. I did the whole groupie thing in college just to tick off the parents, then found myself attracted to a long stream of jerks. They all cheat. They all lie. They hey baby you until you’re out of sight, and then they hey baby someone else. Trust me on this one, Trina, stay clear.”
“Not to be a total bitch, but didn’t you just describe yourself this last year?” Ever since Trina had met Avery, she hadn’t seen her with the same guy twice.
“No, they all know I’m free and single. It’s agreeable for all parties involved.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway. Wade was a weekend companion that didn’t involve one kiss,” Trina told them.
Lori turned her whole body in Shannon’s direction and her back to Trina. “Funny, but it looked to me like Wade Thomas wanted to lick the cherry right off the top of Trina’s ice cream sundae.”
Shannon laughed and made eye contact with Trina. “He was salivating.”
“Y’all are barking up the wrong tree. I’m not interested in Wade Thomas. Or any man right now.”
The room went silent for several seconds.
“Y’all?” Avery said slowly.
“I’m living in Texas, cut me some slack.”
“Okay, okay . . . let’s get on to the subject that brought us here.” Lori stood and crossed to the small kitchenette. “First Wives Club meeting is called to order. Which means wine.”
Trina moaned. “I’ll have water.”
“Fine.” She went through the motions of opening the bottle while talking. “Since we’ve been picking on Trina already, let’s start with you, Shannon.”
Their normal method of operation during these meetings was to talk about what they were doing, or not doing, in their dating lives. What worked and what didn’t. They also spent a good amount of time discussing what they were doing with the money they’d made from their temporary marriages.
Shannon accepted the wine and relaxed on the sofa. “I signed a lease for a studio.”
“That’s fantastic news,” Trina said. “Do you have any clients yet?”
Shannon had a semisuccessful career as a photographer that she wanted to expand postdivorce. But when she was no longer the first lady of California, she ended up closing her business, since the majority of people requesting her services were members of the press searching for a story. Or worse, the activists and lobbyists of the general population that thought she could plead their cause with her ex-husband.
“I do. An engagement party and two weddings.”
“No more lurking jerks walking through the door?” Avery asked.
“Not yet. I’m sure I won’t escape them forever. But I think the public finally realized I’m no longer Mrs. Paul Wentworth.”
“What about you?” Lori asked. “Have you realized you’re no longer married to him?”
Shannon shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Avery tucked her feet under her in the chair she sat on. “So you’re dating, then?”
Silence.
Yeah, Trina didn’t see Shannon dating anyone when she had fallen hard for her temporary husband.
Unfortunately, the feeling hadn’t been mutual.
“It’s hard to meet men.”
Avery laughed. “Dating apps, bars, clubs, walking on the beach, Uber drivers, waiters—”
“Uber drivers, really?” Trina asked.
Avery answered with a smile.
“Please, I can’t pick someone up at a bar,” Shannon said.
“You’re right. You have to actually go into the bar before you can pick someone up,” Lori told her.
“I go to bars.”
“The no-host bar at a wedding reception doesn’t count,” Avery exclaimed.
Shannon didn’t deny Avery’s claim. “Well, dating apps are out.”
“Yeah, those suck. Half the guys on there aren’t real, anyway.” Trina had tried those things before she married Fedor. It wasn’t her pace.
“Good for hooking up, but that’s about it,” Avery said.
“Have you ever considered taking up bowling, or sailing . . . something like that? Something that has tons of testosterone around by default. Football games, anything?”
“Sports aren’t my thing.”
“It doesn’t have to be your thing, it has to be their thing.” Avery was like a dog with a bone.
Shannon passed glances around the room. “Maybe I’ll try sailing. I love the ocean.”
“Okay, then. That’s a direction, at least.”
Trina could almost hear Lori tapping a gavel on a desk with her statement.