“Are you really Alex Olsen?” he asks, not moving.
“No,” Alex says brusquely. “Excuse us.”
“Why’d that guy say you are?”
“I look a little like him,” Alex says.
He puts a big hand on my hip, still holding a duffel on his shoulder and the garment bag in his hand. He moves me slightly to the side and moves onto the step beside me, his big body pressed against mine. “Excuseus,” he says to the man, now a few inches taller than the man who is still a step above him.
“YouareAlex Olsen!” the man says now that Alex is closer. “What are you doing here?”
Alex sighs and puts a shoulder into the man’s upper back, then with a hand on the man’s shoulder, turns him so the guy is facing the side of the escalator.
“Hey!” the man protests.
“Excuse us,” Alex says as he nudges me past the man, then gives the guy more pressure into the escalator railing as he passes.
“Jerk!” the guy says as Alex lets him go.
“Hey, you can tell your buddies that you scuffled with a hockey player and aren’t even bruised from it,” Alex says as he steps off the escalator behind me.
The man’s eyes widen. “So youareAlex Olsen.”
“Yeah.”
The guy smiles, and everything seems forgiven. Especially when he lifts his phone and snaps a photo.
Alex sighs and turns to me. “How do I look?”
I frown. “What?”
“I dressed myself. I didn’t think there’d be photos today. Will Lenny be mad?”
“Who’s Lenny?”
“My assistant. Lenore.”
“You look…” I sweep my gaze over him. Again, I ignore the dirt streak on the front of his shirt. He’s fucking gorgeous. He has a big, hot, climbable body. And I both wish he’d never kissed me and really wish he would again. “Great.”
He nods. “Okay. Good.”
I shake my head. “Come on.” I jog toward the walkway that leads to the short-term parking area.
He, of course, easily keeps up with me, even carrying his bags.
“Red truck,” I say, pointing as we run into the parking garage. I dash around the back of my truck to the driver’s side. “Throw your bag on top of that wooden crate, would you?”
“Are those flowers?” he asks as he tosses the bag into the truck bed.
“Yeah. And I lost a bunch on the drive up here.” The flowers had blown out of the back as I’d driven well over the speed limit and prayed for no cops.
“Alex! Nora!” Brewser yells from the doorway to the airport.
Damn, he moves fast for a guy his age. Especially one who’s had two knee replacements and who’s been brewing his own beer since he was fourteen.
“Get in!” I tell Alex. Then I glance over to see Leo and Wilson join Brewser. “I’m telling Bruce and Ellie on you! And you’re cut off from my banana pudding for a month!”
Brewer and Wilson’s eyes widen with alarm.
