Page 38 of Hats off to Love

“I haven’t seen you in months.” She reaches over and starts rubbing his arm, as if she’s a tiger and he’s suddenly dinner. “Where have you been hiding, and what are you doing here so early this morning?” she asks, attempting to be flirtatious with him.

His lips have pressed into a firm line, and as his eyes briefly flit my way, I feel them burn into me with a pleading I’m now becoming accustomed to. I know I need to play my part, so I make my way over and move to stand next to him. Molly is talking to the camera guy about who knows what and doesn’t see her brother’s discomfort radiating in every direction.

“Rosie mentioned the interview this morning, so I thought I would drop in to cheer her on,” he says as he reaches for my hand and pulls me even closer next to him, holding it a little tighter than normal.

I didn’t mention the interview. Some things we talk about and others we don’t. This little situation we’ve found ourselves in hasn’t been going on long enough for us to braid each other’s hair and share secrets.

“Right. I think I did hear somewhere that the two of you are dating.” She quickly glances at me, and I smile in confirmation.

There’s no way she didn’t see the ‘bachelor of the season’ article or the one highlighting Birdie’s party. People in the media live and die by gossip and drama, and then it occurs to me that maybe I got this interview because of him and how people perceive us, not because I’m new to town and am a fresh face amidst the businesses who’ve already done these interviews year after year.

“Yes,” he says, not giving her anything more, and she glances back at me, maybe hoping I will, but I don’t. If anything, I find I’m suddenly super irritated. She “heard somewhere” that we were dating and yet she turned on the charm right in front of me. What is with these women and him? I just give her a small smile then look at him with adoring Bambi eyes.

He squeezes my hand at whatever he sees simmering under my surface.

Recovering like the professional broadcaster she is, she says, “Good for you. After all these years, I’ve often wondered who would officially take you off the market, and well, Rosie here is just darling.”

Darling. As if she knows me and wouldn’t run me over if given the chance to be with him.

I grit my teeth, and my hand constricts in his.

“I think so,” he says, looking down at me and smiling, only this smile is more of a smirk and says, Take it easy, Thorney, she’ll leave us alone in a minute.

I smile back. She better before I lose it.

His eyes crinkle in the corners, and his grin grows.

“So how long have you two—”

Stokes cuts her off. “Well, if you’ll excuse us, I’m going to steal Rosie for a minute before I head to the office,” he says, politely letting her know this little meet and greet is over.

She blinks at him, clearly not used to being dismissed. “Of course. Lovely to see you, Stokes.” Out of courtesy, she gives me a glance, and then she wanders over to Molly and the cameraman.

“Another one of your many devout fans?” I ask through my teeth once we’re out of earshot, feeling way more than I’d like.

His lips twitch as he tries to stop them from smiling, and his brows rise. Still holding my hand, he twists me, looks behind me at my back, and then runs his hand over me several times before facing me again and saying, “There. Better now?”

“What?” I twist to try to see what he was looking at while not embarrassing myself by purring at how good his hands felt on me.

“Your hackles—I’ve flattened them back down.”

“Seriously?” I glare at him, and he chuckles.

“I’ve known her since college. She wasn’t subtle about her interest in me then, even though I gave her no reason to believe I would ever return it. I’ve never understood why some people just can’t take a hint.”

I glance at her and then back at him.

“But why not?” I ask him, truly feeling curious. “She’s clearly beautiful and driven. Why wouldn’t you be interested in someone like her?”

He looks down at the ground as his thumb swipes over the back of my hand. “I just wasn’t. I didn’t have time for it, nor am I interested in someone being with me because of my name and what comes with it.”

I tilt my head a little and observe him. His gaze comes back to mine.

“You’ve said this before. I didn’t like it then, and I don’t like it now. You are not just your name—you are so much more.”

The double lines drop into place, and he frowns. Silence fills the air between us as his gaze drifts over the features of my face, and then one of his hands is pulling mine while the other gently lifts off the burnt orange hat I’m wearing. He brings me right into his arms, and my head falls under his chin. He lets out a sigh as the familiar scent of Stokes wraps around me, and my eyes fall shut. I breathe him in and revel in his heartbeat as it steadily knocks against his chest, the warmth from his skin heating up his thin dress shirt and the side of my face.

“You look beautiful this morning,” he tells me, and a blush burns through my cheeks. I really did try with my baby blue dress and orange hat. I chose them because I wanted viewers to see that to look good, the colors don’t necessarily have to match.