“Wade Thomas . . . really?”
Trina set her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose and smiled with sarcasm. “I’m a big girl, Mom, I’ll be fine.”
Avery narrowed her eyes. “You’re vulnerable. Especially this week.”
“Am I some kind of wilted flower, dying in the corner?”
“There have been tears.”
“Not many. Besides, I need to stop by the office while I’m in Texas, and the cemetery. Wade’s party will be a nice distraction from all of that.”
“Can one ‘stop by’ Wade’s home from yours?”
“It’s actually not that bad. He’s south of Austin, so about a two-hour drive.”
“Just be careful.”
Trina placed her purse over her shoulder. “I should say the same to you. I’d feel better if we had a guard around here now.”
Avery blew her off. “Because so many people show up at the door trying to rob the place?”
“No, because Kevin, the key man, started salivating when he saw the gold in the safe.”
“Which is already at the bank.”
“Still . . .”
“You’re being paranoid. This house has been vacant for almost a year with all this stuff sitting here.”
Trina sighed. “Okay, fine. But watch your back when you leave.”
“I won’t have a neon sign over my car telling the world I’m carrying thousands of dollars’ worth of watches when I take them to the auction house.”
Avery had embraced her new job and had appointments all over Manhattan throughout the weekend. Normal business hours didn’t apply when the two of them waved around the kind of money Fedor’s estate would likely fetch. And that was just with the stuff filling the walls and closets. Shopping real estate agents was high on Avery’s list, and what better time to check them out than during the many open houses that took place over the weekend?
“Go, enjoy your party while I slave away at the office.”
Trina laughed and hugged her friend. “I’ll call when I’m back in town so you know I’m walking in the door.”
“You’ll call when you finish with the party and give me all the details. Don’t be afraid to name-drop if you see anyone famous.”
“Fine.” Trina pulled the arm of her suitcase and rolled it in front of her. “Oh, by the way, I left a message for Cindy, my housekeeper, to let her know we’re in town. If she calls back, have her and a crew come in on Tuesday to start working behind us, cleaning the rooms we’ve already tackled.”
“On it!”
“Thanks again.”
“Go. I have stuff to do,” Avery teased.
Avery stood on the steps and waved as she pulled out of the drive.
Trina opted to drive herself to the airport, again to keep the amount of people coming and going from the property to a minimum.
A weekend date at Wade’s home, with an ex-girlfriend and his mother . . . what could possibly go wrong? There would probably be a dozen other women vying for his attention. Trina looked through her rearview mirror as the Hamptons home disappeared. She was fairly certain no one was going to die, so how bad could it be?
Chapter Twelve
Wade opted for sunglasses and a baseball cap in an effort to keep his identity on the down low. He stood in the back of the crowd, waiting outside of baggage claim, where he’d told Trina he would meet her. When was the last time he’d stood in an airport to pick someone up? He couldn’t remember.
He scanned the crowd, watching for the telltale sign of a cell phone turned his way. There were the kind of fans that noticed him in a crowd and would snap a sly picture, and then there were the people who walked right up, asked if he was Wade Thomas, and then requested a picture or an autograph. Seemed the pictures were the bigger request than his name on a piece of paper. Although he had signed plenty of boobs in his career.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he reached to answer without looking at the name.
“Hello.”
“Wade?”
He didn’t recognize the voice.
“Depends on who is askin’.”
“It’s the blonde pit bull.”
He winced. Avery. “Trina did not tell you I said that.”
“She most certainly did.”
“Well, Miss Avery, I meant that out of my deepest respect,” he backpedaled. “Strong women run the earth.”
“Keep kissing up,” she said.
He laughed as he scanned the crowed exiting baggage claim. “What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to make sure you didn’t send some flunky to pick Trina up at the airport.”
“No, ma’am, I did not. I’m standing right here, waiting for her now.”
“Huh.”
“Anything else?” he asked, knowing full well Avery wasn’t done.
“Yeah. Don’t mess with her head.”
He opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off.
“Don’t lie to her. Don’t tell her she’s the only one if she isn’t. Don’t be an asshole.”
Wade didn’t think The Blonde Pit Bull was a worthy enough title for the woman giving him sass on the phone.
“You’re a good friend, Avery. Trina’s lucky to have you on her side.” He really did mean that. Much as he was the one on the wrong end of the woman’s gun.
“Uh-huh . . . right.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say you really don’t like me, do you?”
“I know your kind, and I’ve warned her. But apparently there isn’t anything else I can do.”
From the crowd he saw a woman of Trina’s height with sleek black hair . . . his heart did a little two-step of its own.
“I’ll take good care of her. You can count on that.”
Yup, that was her. Those dark eyes caught his, even through his sunglasses, and her lips spread into a smile. The feeling in his belly made his entire body warm.
This was good.
This was very good.
Avery was saying something that he didn’t catch.
“Ah-huh . . . sure. Thanks for your advice.” He hung up.
Trina pushed one small, round designer suitcase in front of her as she approached.
He wanted to kiss her. Wanted to throw his arms around her, spin her in a circle, and make her laugh with the silliness of it all.
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.