“Strip club,” Avery said without missing a beat. “I was the stripper, he owned the club.”
Wade glanced at Trina. “Is she serious?”
“You’re gullible and she’s on drugs.” Trina laughed.
“Sit down, you’re making me nervous,” Avery demanded.
“Yes, ma’am.” Wade took a vacant chair on the opposite side of the bed from Trina.
“Rick said the police were coming back.”
“Yeah,” Trina confirmed.
“I don’t remember anything. You went to a party . . .”
“Right, at Wade’s house in Texas.”
“I-I was . . . Fedor’s watch.”
Trina sat forward. “Right. You were taking the watches here to have the auction house appraise and advise. Do you remember which one you went to?”
“I barely remember driving in. God, this sucks.”
Trina patted her hand. “It’s okay. The doctors think it will come back.”
“I hope so.”
Wade wasn’t so sure that was a good idea, considering the mess her body was in because of another human being. He couldn’t imagine anyone beating a woman. Seeing Avery in that bed made him realize the threat against Trina was more than just show. He’d chuckled at white on rice, but now he got it. Really got it, and he didn’t plan on giving anyone the chance of doing this to her.
Doug returned to the room, an acoustic guitar in his hand. Behind him, a couple of the other nurses stood by, watching. “You sure this is okay?” Doug asked.
Wade accepted the guitar and winked. “My pleasure. How long have you been playing?”
“A couple years. It’s just a hobby. Helps me relax after a busy shift.”
“Fenders are one of my favorites,” Wade told him. He strummed the strings and tuned the A before strumming again. “They have a great sound.” Wade moved his fingers over the strings like he was born to do. When he looked up to see Avery smiling and Trina beaming, he decided it wouldn’t hurt to hum a few bars.
I want a woman who tastes like whiskey and sips like wine . . .
A woman who smiles like sunshine and laughs like spring . . .
Everyone says you won’t find love if you’re searching for her . . .
I swear I’m not lookin’ but you’re not there . . .
All I need is your heart . . .
All I want is your love . . .
Stop looking for me, darlin’, I’m standing right here.
Trina tilted her head and listened to him with a smile that angels blessed, and Wade kept singing.
I want a woman who smiles at children and cries in the rain . . .
A woman who melts in my arms and calls out my name . . .
Everyone says you won’t find love when you’re searching for her . . .
I swear I’m not lookin’ but you’re not there . . .
All I need is your heart . . .
All I want is your love . . .
He could see other nurses and visitors gathering outside the door, but all Wade saw was Trina’s glittering eyes.
I want to stand there with you in the morning light . . .
Fall asleep beside you after talkin’ all night . . .
I want to find you, darlin’, and give you all of my heart . . .
I need to find you, baby, and share all of my love . . .
So please stop searchin’, honey, and let fate have a spin.
I’ll stop lookin’, sweetheart, and we’ll let love slip in.
Cuz everyone says you won’t find love when you’re searchin’ . . .
All I want to give you is all of my heart . . .
All I want from you is all of your love . . .
Stop searchin’ for me, baby . . .
And I’ll stop lookin’ for you . . .
I’m standing right here, honey, starin’ at you.
He let the last chord fade off as he ended the song. Moisture gathered behind Trina’s eyes, and Wade’s heart skipped several beats.
Applause snapped him out of his daze.
“Okay,” Avery said as the clapping came to a close. “You can date her, but you can’t marry her.”
“Avery!” Trina scolded.
“He wrote that song forever ago. He has to write one for you first.”
Wade slid the guitar to his lap and took the pen Doug handed him. “I’m going to have to write a song about my girlfriend’s pit bull.”
Trina laughed.
“Now we’re talking,” Avery agreed.
The phone in the penthouse suite woke them up at seven in the morning.
Trina had fallen asleep in Wade’s arms after talking most of the night. Their afternoon nap had left them with more energy, which they put to good use. It helped that an early morning wasn’t necessary, since Avery was headed for surgery before the first cup of coffee.
Wade rolled over, pulled the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”
Trina snuggled back on her bicep pillow.
“When did you get in?”
She couldn’t hear the other half of the conversation and decided to close her eyes.
“Fine, yeah. Come on up.”
Wade blindly placed the phone back on the cradle.
“Who was that?”
“Ike.” He kissed the side of her head and rolled out of bed.
“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?”