My head snaps in the direction of the speaker. He’s a younger guy, probably mid-twenties. He has a press pass around his neck, and all I can make out is the huge smile stretched acrosshis face. “What the fuck did you just say?” I take a step in front of Pres, shielding her from the cameras flashing.
His grin widens, and he takes a step forward. Messy beard. Black beanie. Calculating eyes. “Simply wondering if the rumors are true.”
But that’s the thing. There are no rumors. On top of hiring a top-notch lawyer, I also recruited the expertise of a cyber tech genius recommended by Detective Cortez. He’s been monitoring social media, gossip sites, and everything in between to make sure Presley’s name never makes it to the headlines. And so far, there’s been nothing. Not even a whisper.
So how the fuck does this guy know?
Hendrix steps up to my side. “My brother-in-law is quite protective. Especially when there are baseless claims made against his wife.”
“So the rumors aren’t true?” the pap presses.
“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” Hendrix answers in a cool and calm voice. I’m so angry, I’m not even sure I can speak right now. He casually pats my shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re here to celebrate our father, not entertain rumors.”
He turns, giving them his back, and then leans, whispering, “Just focus on Pres. Try to act normal, and we’ll figure out what the fuck he’s talking about when we get inside, okay?”
It’s like he flipped a switch in my brain.
Pres.
I nod, and he steps back in line with Zara as if nothing ever happened. I turn back to my wife, who’s standing tall in her gorgeous red gown. Her eyes meet mine, and I know by the way her throat works that she’s trying to hold it together.
I need to distract her.
“Did you know that when we were at that birthday party in high school, I spent the entire seven minutes in Bethany’s roomtrying to think of a reason to kiss you that wouldn’t piss off Hendrix?”
A laugh escapes her lips, and I can tell she’s fighting tears. “What were some of the reasons you came up with?”
I keep up my distraction technique as we continue toward the red carpet. Lance and Tilly have already posed for photos, as well as Cash and Myles.
“Well, keep in mind that I was seventeen and an idiot back then, but a few of the better ones were offering to teach you CPR.”
“Oh my god.” She laughs.
“Oh, it gets better,” I warn her. “There was also one from way out in left field that I heard you could pass on healing energy through kissing, and I was feeling a little under the weather.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“I told you I was an idiot.” I shrug. “But the best one was that I was going to tell you I was a bad kisser, and I needed lessons. But we needed to keep it a secret—obviously.”
“Now that one I might have actually fallen for.”
I look down at her and grin. “That I was a bad kisser or that I would come to you for lessons?”
“You never dated, so?—”
I bend down and kiss her, causing her to laugh. It’s music to my fucking ears. Two minutes ago, she was near tears, and now she’s laughing. If I can keep making her laugh like this for the rest of our lives, I’ll forever be a happy man. “Because I wasyearningfor you.”
“Never gonna hear that word and not think of you in the shower again.”
“I’m actually okay with that.”
Mercury is about to be photographed next, and she looks super nervous. Her dark brown hair is down for a change, and she’s decked out in a shimmering gold gown. Her bright blueeyes flick around, unsure of what to do with her hands and where to look.
“She hates these kinds of things,” Pres whispers. “We’ve all had some media training, but Mercury just kind of freezes whenever she’s in the spotlight.”
“Shouldn’t someone have gone with her?”
Her face contorts. “It’s usually me. The guys probably didn’t think about it.”
