Page 113 of King of the Crease

“The porn scene?”

For the first time since all of this began, the future doesn’t feel terrifying.

It feels wide open.

36

HANK

At the end of January, I make my first visit to Ardenia. I’m nervous. This is meeting your new boyfriend’s family times one thousand.

I’m meeting my boyfriend’s family…and his staff and royal subjects.

Oh, and he sent his royal jet to pick me up in Sourwood.

Nervous? He texts while I board a private plane for the first time in my life.

Duh, I write back. Have I told you that I hate flying?

A few times, yes. Statistically, it’s the safest form of travel. Nick reassures me of that every time I start to freak out. Fortunately, my love of Nick outweighs my fear of flying.

It’s going to be great. Everyone is going to love you, he texts.

I’m not so sure about that. Nick thinks I’m a worthy boyfriend, but what does the rest of Ardenia have to say?

Griffin, who’s a mechanic at the private airport where the plane takes off, swings by before takeoff to wish me luck.

“Nervous?” he asks.

“Everyone keeps asking me that. Of course I am!” Usually, I’m good with meeting the family. Cathy’s parents liked me more than she did. Nick’s dad, the king of Ardenia, may be tougher to please.

“If it makes you feel better,” Griffin says. “This plane? It’s a little old, and I’ve seen nicer.”

Somehow, that gives me a sliver of relief.

The first thing I notice about Ardenia is how woodsy it is. As the plane descends, I make out pockets of towns amid dense trails of trees rolling over mountains. Right now, all the trees are bare, but I can only imagine how green and lush it will look in summer.

Nick meets me on the tarmac. My nerves subside when I see him. It’s been nearly a month since we’ve been together. He had to fly back to Ardenia right after New Year’s to rescind his renouncement of rights and throw himself into royal duties he’d punted on in December. We’ve gotten by with FaceTime calls and texting, but now I need to hold him in person.

He’s flanked by a security guard in a black suit and a personal secretary who reminds me of my scary fourth grade teacher. I believe their names are Alfred and Agnes. Nick sent me a lot of information, and it’s a bit jumbled in my brain.

“Your Highness,” I say. Damn, I almost forgot how good Nick looks. And Nick in a suit? Yum.

He wraps me in a hug, and for a second, all of the pomp and circumstance of where I am fades away, and we’re just snuggling on my ratty couch.

“How was the flight?”

“Great. I watched half a season of Young Sheldon. That young Sheldon. He’s so smart, and yet he still manages to get into hijinks.”

Alfred steps forward and shakes my hand so hard he cuts off circulation for a second. “Alfred. I am His Majesty’s personal security. I need to pat you down.”

“Shouldn’t you buy me a drink first?”

“No.” Sarcasm doesn’t seem to be on his wavelength. Noted. Alfred pats me down more thoroughly than any TSA agent has done.

“Alfred, is this necessary?” Nick asks.

“Your Highness, there’s always a chance Mr. Rush could be a sleeper agent activated by our enemies ready to brandish a weapon.”