As she got control of her hysterics, I dabbed and blotted at the red spots on my unpaid bills.
“Are you ever going to tell me why you’re so hell bent on avoiding him?”
“Oh darn, I have another call coming in. I have to take this. Sorry, babe. I’ll see you in a week.”
“You’re a horrible maid of honor for lying to me right now, but I’ll let it slide this time. You can’t avoid me or this conversation forever.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Gotta go! Give Tucker and Lily a kiss for me.”
I ended the call before she could say any more or my tongue, loosened by wine and self-pity, could. We both knew the more I drank, the looser it got. And I was already passing tipsy town moving into slush city.
I stood on the sidewalk, my luggage resting beside my feet as I glanced at the clock on my phone. Where the heck is she? It wasn’t like Lottie to be late. She was punctual as hell. I’d been waiting over thirty minutes by the curb outside the tiny airport I’d thought I’d never pass through again. I sent her a text to see how far away she was.
Lottie: Sorry! Going to kill him.
Hannah: Who?
Lottie: Wes. My one employee called in sick today.
Hannah: Wes??
Lottie: Tuck’s brother. I’ll find out where he is.
Lottie: He said he’s pulling in now.
Lifting my eyes, I glanced around for an arriving vehicle. The only thing coming toward me was a gust of wind creating a mini dirt tornado. There was no sign of anyone. The airport was mostly deserted. I was on the last flight in and all of my fellow passengers had left.
Hannah: He lied.
I took a seat on top of my luggage, crossing my legs—my skirt riding up—and removed my heel. My feet were killing me from standing for so long. I was rubbing the sole of my foot when I heard the loud engine of a large truck coming up the road. It slowed, rolling to a stop in front of me, windows down, dirt covering almost every inch of it. The man sitting behind the wheel was not much cleaner.
He smiled. And I couldn’t deny it was a nice smile. Confident. Practiced. One that would normally earn him a smile in return, had I not been tired and annoyed.
“No need to show me some leg. I’m happy to give you a ride, sweetheart,” he said, winking.
I slipped my shoe back on my foot and stood, smoothing my skirt back down before crossing my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes.
“Wes, I presume?”
“The one and only.” His grin widened.
I refrained from rolling my eyes, releasing my arms as he shifted the vehicle into park. He exited the truck, giving me the full vision of him. Unsurprisingly, his body was as defined and masculine as his younger brother’s, his face just as handsome. The Monroe family had good genes when it came to the looks department. As for whether he was as charming as Tucker—the jury was still out.
He lifted my suitcase one-handed with ease. That thing barely slid under the maximum-weight requirements at the airport check-in. I may have been impressed if he hadn’t immediately heaved it over the side of his dirty truck, tossing it into the rear bed.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I gasped.
“Helping you with your luggage,” he tossed over his shoulder with a shrug. He turned to face me, his large, masculine hands resting on his broad hips just below a lean waist, his brow wrinkling at the angry expression on my face. “Damn. Don’t tell me you’ve never had a man help you with your luggage. Guess those Yankees don’t know how to treat a lady up there.”
I glared at him, my hands on my own hips, my head tilting to the side at his incorrect assumption.
“Ah, I get it,”—he snapped his finger, pointing at me—“you’re one of those feminists. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll let you get it out yourself when we get to the house.”
“Are you serious, right now?”
“Of course. Wouldn’t want you to think I didn’t see you as an equal,” he winked. Again. Did he have a tick?
“Moron,” I muttered under my breath. “I’m not mad you helped me with my luggage. I’m mad because you threw it in the back of your filthy truck. It’s probably covered in horse shit, now.”
He glanced over his shoulder where the luggage resided. “Nah, maybe some cow manure, but it’ll wash.” He gave me another slick smile, his eyes glistening with mirth.
I was not amused.
“Tell ya what, if it makes you feel better, I’ll move it inside the cab.”
“Oh, how kind of you,” I said, smiling sarcastically.
He chuckled, lifting the luggage easily once again as I walked to the passenger door. He opened the back door of the cab, placing it on the backseat before climbing into the driver’s seat. He stared at me, an eyebrow raising as I remained standing outside of the truck in the open passenger door.
“What now, city?”
I eyed the distance between the curb and floorboard of the truck. Even in my heels, it was still quite a jump, and the pencil skirt I was wearing was like a tight noose around my knees. There was no way I was going to pull off getting in this truck in a ladylike manner. At least not without his help. And I’d be damned if I was asking him for help.
“Nothing. Just…” I lifted a foot and the skirt tightened. I halted at the light tearing noise, dropping my foot back to the cement.
Wes’s face lit with sadistic amusement as he realized my predicament. “Need some help?”
“Nope. I got it.” I glared.
“Suit yourself, city.” He settled back in his seat, his smug smile taking up most of the real estate on his face as he lazily crossed his arms over his chest.
I bit back my irritation as I tried once again, only for my foot to come up short, failing to connect with the floorboard.
Ah, screw it.
Hiking up my skirt as high as I could without flashing him the goods, I crawled into the floorboard on all fours, landing my face a little too close to his goods. Way to think that one through, Hannah. At hearing his chuckle, I snapped my eyes up to his smirking face.
“Hey now, city. If I’d have known things were going to move this fast between us, I would’ve showered first.”
“Ass.” I grumbled, sitting back on my knees before lifting my butt to the seat and smoothing out my skirt.
I buckled my seatbelt, ignoring his eyes that were still on me as he chuckled and cranked the keys in the ignition. The engine roared alive, thankfully drowning out the obnoxious man sitting a few feet from me. I started to think maybe Billy would’ve been a better option until I recalled our one night together nearly a year ago.
No.
Most definitely not.
I’d take this embarrassing little stunt with the infuriating, older Monroe brother playing witness over Billy Miller. If I never saw Billy Miller again, it’d be too soon. Problem was, with his sister being one of Lottie’s closest friends and a bridesmaid in the wedding, I was pretty sure “too soon” was less than forty-eight hours away.
Chapter 2
HANNAH
Cracking the door open just barely, I peeked out of the room, watching the crowd of wedding guests mingling and chatting with old friends and family as they made their way into the church. My eyes searched the horde of bodies, my muscles tense with nerves.