“Hanna, don’t push your luck. Go. And you know exactly where I’m talking about.”
She shoved her sandwich in her mouth and bit off a huge chunk. Yes, she knew exactly what He was saying. Why did God always have to talk to her with a bit of an attitude? She’d prefer the thees and thous and begottens.
Right now, she’d begotten herself a nice, raging headache.
“Hanna? Have you heard a word I’ve been saying?”
Her head snapped up. Will was staring at her, his lips tipped into a worried frown.
She hadn’t even known he was still talking.
Swallowing the chunk of beef in her mouth, she started to respond to him a moment too soon.
The food shifted the wrong direction.
Her lungs inhaled sharply, only to be met by resistance and no air.
The restaurant surroundings swirled as she heard shouting and was jerked up from her seat.
Arms wrapped around her and the most painful pressure she’d ever felt thrust into her stomach, like someone punching her repeatedly.
Just as the world was spiraling into black, her airway shifted and released its captive.
After taking a deep, much-needed breath, she realized Will had sat down, her in his lap.
As the world stopped swirling, she looked up and nodded, her throat eking out the words she knew God was forcing His hand in making her say.
“I’ll go.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hanna stretched her arms and legs out wide and tried to suppress the heat blazing on her cheeks.
Only she could be dumb enough to pick the “no X-ray” mandatory pat-down line at the airport. While she had agreed to this trip for fear of a lightning bolt from God, she still hadn’t let Will off the hook. She’d picked a line on the opposite side just to get a few minutes away from him before she was stuck by his side during yet another flight.
As the TSA agent patted a more personal area, she caught the eye of a smirking Will leaning against the far wall with his rolling carry-on.
After the humiliation was over, she could only hope that some camera hadn’t caught that fun event. She could see the captions now.
Hanna goes wild with the TSA…
At this point, she almost didn’t care. After having to spend the rest of the week in Nashville before they could get scheduled on the shows Will had picked, and being unsuccessful at ignoring the fascinating pictures of Will performing the Heimlich that popped up when googling her name, she was just ready to get all this over with.
Will pushed off the wall and sauntered over to her as she reclaimed her bag and purse. “You have a thing against X-rays?”
She shot him a frosty glare she hoped would freeze his eyebrows. “Shut up. They’re bad for your health.” That was her story, and by golly, she would stick to it until the day she died. Or the return flight home, whichever came first.
“You know, it’s not nice to tell someone to shut up. Didn’t your momma ever teach you that?”
Hurt thumped her heart. Her momma had taught her a lot of things she’d pushed aside lately.
Ignoring the pain and the man who’d inflicted it, she glanced at the gate number on her boarding pass. “We’re down this way. Think we have time to grab coffee?”
A hand on her elbow halted her. “Hanna, forgive me. I wasn’t thinking when I said that.”
Hot tears threatened to escape, but she shook her head and blinked them back. “Really, it’s fine. She’s been gone a few years, and I probably needed the reminder. I just need to get this done and over with.”
Thankfully, he let go of her arm and didn’t push her further. Instead, he led the way to the nearest airport coffee stand and ordered himself a tall black coffee and her a grande mocha latte.
That he knew her drink order without even asking would have been sweet under normal circumstances.
But nothing about the past two weeks had been sweet or even close to resembling normal.
She accepted the cup without a word.
They sat down in seats not far from the gate. It was still close to a half hour until boarding. Despite the mix-up in lines, security had gone much faster than they’d anticipated.
A year ago, all this flying would have left Hanna awestruck. The Price of Love had changed that. She’d flown to various parts of the earth on different dates and “location” episodes, so this was just a frustrating déjà vu, with William at her side instead of a bunch of overly giggly and, more often than not, drunk women.
A nudge to her arm snapped her to attention. “Yes?”
“Thank you.”
She widened her eyes in surprise. “For what?”
“Agreeing to this. And for not dying in the restaurant.”
She shrugged and sipped her latte. “Hey, that’s what a fiancée is for, aye? Although you do realize me taking the big ride to the sky would probably solve all your problems.”
Will reached for her hand and squeezed it. “That’s not even funny, and you know it.”
Her hand scorched at his touch, but withdrawing would look awkward to those watching.
She definitely didn’t keep it there because she liked the warm feeling of his strong hand engulfing hers, his thumb rubbing circles on her skin.
Hanna, this is pretend, and he is a jerk. Don’t forget that.
Oh crud, now was that God or her?
Probably her. But regardless the source of the thought, it was right.
And she needed to remind her heart of that more often.
“So, what did you think of Nashville?”
That he didn’t know already when she’d been there for almost a week was more than a little humorous. She sent him an overly chipper smile. “It was a blast. Note sarcasm.”
“What? You didn’t have a riveting time? I put you up in a pretty swanky hotel, you know.”
“That was fantastic for the first two days, and the little sightseeing I did was fun.” Kinda. Will had been busy, and sightseeing on her own was kinda boring. “By then I’d seen enough soap operas and game shows to last me the rest of my life. And I think I took so many whirlpool baths that my skin is probably prematurely wrinkled.” She used the opportunity to pull her hand free and pretend to examine her smooth skin for the nonexistent raisin-like crinkles. Her hand had gotten a little too comfortable.
“Your skin is gorgeous, and you know it.”
Despite her resolve to make sure he knew this was not a fun trip for her, she let herself laugh. It was either that or blush profusely. She held up her hand to display it in all its majesty. “What can I say, it is pretty amazing.”
Will slunk back into his seat and brought his foot up to rest on his knee. “That’s a sign of a secure person, you know. That you can laugh at yourself.”
She lifted her coffee cup in a mock cheer. “You know me. All grounded in reality.” The untruth of that bit at her.
“I think these interviews will be fun.”
Fun didn’t quite ring true to her. They would be going on ALIVE in the morning, then on a late-night show with some guy she’d only heard of in commercials and from Carly. She was always in bed before it came on.
What really pricked at her was that this was almost a mirror schedule of what they should have been doing the day after the final show of The Price of Love aired.
If Will hadn’t put his foot in his mouth.
If Hanna hadn’t called the producer and, in one of the most un-Christian/un-Hanna moves she’d ever made, told him in explicit language where he could shove the contract she’d signed. Complete moral deprivation was not in the cards, and they could sue her if they wanted, but she wouldn’t be a part of a show that had completely ruined her reputation so single-handedly.
By some miracle of God, ENC hadn’t pressed charges. In fact, every month or two, they’d call and ask for an update and if there were changes.
They were currently salivating over the engagement. Probably hoped it would boost the ratings of the next show.
&
nbsp; Ratings could get flushed down the toilet for all she cared.
Getting her life back was all that mattered.
Hanna glanced at William, who’d leaned his head back and closed his eyes, evidently not expecting a response to the whole fun comment.
Good grief, the man was handsome.
Not that it mattered. Looks weren’t everything, just like her momma always used to tell her. It was the heart that counted.
Unfortunately, William had fooled her on that, too.
Still, she couldn’t help but take the opportunity to study his square, tanned jaw, the perfect line of the trademark Preston nose, his lips…oh, good night. Those lips.
The squeak of the intercom jerked her to reality as William’s eyes popped open to meet her gaze.
“Flight 2904 departing for New York is beginning to board. All passengers requiring extra assistance and those in our first class are welcome to board at this time.”
William winked one of his hazel-green eyes. “Guess it’s time to go.”
Her voice stuck as if thick cotton lined her throat. She settled for nodding and stood to get her bag.
From behind her, she heard someone gasp, followed by a rush of whispers. “Is that who I think it is? That skank from The Price of Love?”
Hanna felt Will stiffen next to her, but she pushed him on. Now was not the time to make a scene.
“It is! That’s Will, too! He’s way too good for that stuck-up prude anyway. Are they like back together or something? Too bad. She’s probably horrible in bed anyway. Can’t you just see Holy Hanna wearing like a turtleneck during sex or something? I could totally give him—”
Hot fury coursed through Will at the vile words the women spoke. Did they think he and Hanna were deaf?
Unable to ignore it anymore, he whirled around and pointed Hanna toward the ticket counter. “Go. I’ll take care of this.”
Hanna tugged his arm. “Come on. They aren’t worth it.”
He shrugged her off.
If this is what Hanna had dealt with these last months, he was more of an idiot than he’d thought. Magazine articles and stupid letters were bad enough. He’d received his fair share, too, but he’d decided not to mention that to Hanna. He was a big boy and could handle hate mail.
She shouldn’t have to.
Striding toward the two women, he took a second to assess the situation.
No men with them. Probably midthirties. One blond and one brunette. Both looked like they’d had one too many trips to the tanning booth and had probably auditioned for every reality TV show out there. Most likely bitter for not being chosen.
Will’s voice raised louder than he’d planned. “Excuse me, but I do not appreciate the way you’re talking about my fiancée.” He pointed a finger back toward Hanna while glaring at the trash in front of him. “I expect you to apologize. Now.”
The women glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. The brunette, the larger of the two, stood up and crossed her arms. “What are you going to do about it? Tell all the newspapers you had sex with me, too?”
“Now boarding passengers in zone one for New York flight 2904.”
Before Will could respond, Hanna stepped forward and put her arm around his waist. “Honey, come on. We don’t want to miss the plane.”
Honey? His woman was doing a fabulous job at acting. And she was right. This would only cause a scene, and knowing his luck, someone would shoot a video or something.
He started to turn toward the gate when a strong arm clamped his shoulder.
When William looked back, all he saw was a large fist plunging toward his face.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sir, do you need some more ice?”
William fingered the plastic bag of half-melted ice he held against his throbbing eye. “No. It’s fine.”
The perky flight attendant finally walked off. It was humiliating enough to be laid out in the middle of an airport terminal in front of Hanna and all the world to see—and given the number of phones that were aimed his direction, he was sure the whole world would see very soon—but he didn’t need the woman stopping every two seconds and drawing even more attention to him.
How was he to have known that Millie, the brunette, had a heavy-weight champion for a boyfriend who had walked up to only hear her “sex with me” comment?
It was not his finest moment. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to defend himself.
And their interview on ALIVE was scheduled in the morning.
Beside him, Hanna returned the in-flight magazine to the back of the seat cushion in front of her and shifted to face him. “That’s going to leave quite a bruise.”
“Any chance it’ll be gone by tomorrow, you think?”
She shook her head. “None whatsoever. Might be able to cover it with makeup, though.”
He’d look like a clown if he put on enough makeup to cover this up. “I’m thinking of postponing the interview.”
Hanna stilled, her pink, glossy lips pursing into a frown. “Postponing? How long? It could take a week or more for that to go away. What would we do in the meantime?”
The one thing he had hoped not to have time to do. “Visit my parents.”
“You ever tell them the truth?”
“No, and I don’t plan to.” He glanced at the window, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the tiny plane window. His eye blazed in all its darkening glory. No way would he do an interview looking like this.
“You know, a black eye can be kinda handsome on a man. Shows you’re willing to fight for your girl. Maybe if America sees you like that, it’ll help our cause.”
Humiliation bubbled to the surface yet again. “I’d agree with you, if the other guy sported one just as bad if not worse.”
Unfortunately, Will had blacked out for a moment, and in the commotion, he hadn’t been able to retaliate. That might be a good thing though, since security led the jealous boyfriend away in handcuffs.
Will in handcuffs. Now that would have gone viral.
Hanna patted his arm then sat back and closed her eyes. “Thank you for standing up for me, though.”
He studied her perfect face, complete with an adorable sloped nose, petite lips covered with a thin film of lip gloss, all framed with her blond hair. Curly today, instead of her usual straight. What kind of idiot had he been not to stand up for her just six months before?
But that made it even more important for their farce engagement to appear real. It was the only way he could redeem himself.
And keep his job.
Hanna fidgeted with her hands in her lap. “I think we should still do it. Everyone will know about the airport incident anyway. You know it’s probably all over Facebook now.”
Was Holy Hanna nervous about the thought of spending a week with him and his parents? The thought suddenly held a glimpse of promise. In Nashville, he’d been so busy at work they’d barely seen each other except for a few keep-up-the-act dinner dates and the one mall date where they’d picked out a few outfits for interviews.
But at his parents’ place in Jersey, there would be no escaping each other.
“No, we’ll go spend a week with Mom and Dad. My eye should be faded enough that camera makeup will cover it by then.”
Hanna shook her head, sending her bright curls bouncing. “William, no…”
He patted her knee and squeezed. “Think of it this way. If we do the interview now, all of America will assume you gave me this shiner, regardless of what we try to say otherwise.”
She gasped. “No. They wouldn’t.”
“And let me tell you. The only thing worse for me than being laid flat out by some guy in an airport would be for people to think that I was beaten up by a girl.”
An evil grin came over Hanna’s face. “Payback is oh-so-wonderful.”
He clicked the button to recline his seat and lowered his eyelids. “That’s okay, then. We’ll do the interview tomorrow. I’ll just tell them that on top of being sex crazed, you also h
ave a penchant for violent behavior in bed.”
He heard her gasp beside him. “You wouldn’t.”
“I just talked to Mom last night. She said the snow is beautiful up there right now.”
She shifted, and given the rustle of paper, he guessed she’d grabbed the magazine again. “Fine. But if they don’t own snowmobiles, you’re buying a pair for us to use. If I have to be stuck up there for another week, I might as well make it feel like home.”
Will smiled. “Done.” The purchase part anyway, since he knew his dad owned a couple. Actually riding one of those death-mobiles? Someplace very hot would have to freeze over first.
Hanna held tight to the door handle as the rental car dipped into a hole in the gravel driveway. By the condition of the drive, she wasn’t sure if she should expect more of a rundown shack than the Land of Oz she’d had in her imagination.
Will maneuvered around a curve, and the trees they’d come through broke free into a massive homestead. The cutest house she’d ever seen stood in the middle of the snow-covered lawn.
Hanna bit the side of her cheek to keep the “awwwww” she wanted to say inside.
Will nudged her with his elbow. “Well, this is it. What do you think?”
Her dreams for a future caught in her chest and didn’t allow her to reply, so she just shrugged her shoulders.
If she’d been asked to describe her dream home, this would be exactly what she’d picture.
A covered porch lined the light blue-gray Cape Cod, sporting more rocking chairs than she could count. The porch extended over to a separate building to the side she assumed was the garage but couldn’t be sure from this angle. At the far end of the property sat a modest-size barn and storage building.
It was—perfect. She’d never have guessed Mr. Proper’s parents, who both seemed pretty high-end when she’d met them last year in Bermuda, would live in such a cozy country house.
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