He put out a hand to stop her, then laid it out for her, including showing her the image so she wouldn’t imagine anything worse. The look on her face was pure devastation. Such pain that he wanted to kill Reid then and there.
“Jake, I promise I didn’t—”
“I know that,” he said because he did. Juliet didn’t lie. “I know.”
“He did take that photo—it was after we were first married, when I trusted him.” Her expression was fragile as she admitted that. “But I didn’t look like that then, was more angles than curves. He’s gotten someone to edit it.”
“Yeah, I figured.” Squeezing the back of her neck, he said, “We’ll deal.”
“No.” She stepped away. “Jake, I won’t drag you into this ugliness. Let me think. I can—”
“No.” He was done letting Reid run the show and done having Juliet think she had to walk alone into the fire. “You’ve dealt with things long enough on your own. Now you have me.”
“Jake, no.” Her gaze went to Esme, fierce protectiveness in her next words. “Esme, your family—we need to protect them.”
“Esme will be fine.” Anyone who dared come after a Bishop-Esera child would be pulverized. Jake had the social and professional reach to do it on his own, but throw in Danny’s power and add in Sailor and Gabe and no one would survive it.
As for any rumors or gossip that might reach Esme, they’d talk with her beforehand, give her the weapons to handle it. Tempting as it was to surround his baby in cotton wool, he couldn’t protect her by keeping her in the dark. “As for my family, see for yourself.” He showed her the messages on his phone.
Her lower lip began to tremble as she went through the messages. All of them furious on her behalf and in her corner.
“Your parents are out there,” she said, her voice a little wobbly.
“Of course they are.” Jake put his hand on her lower back. “This is what we’re going to do. I’ll exit and take Esme over to them, then I’m going to come wait by the doors for you to exit.”
Swallowing hard, she shook her head. “See?” She pointed to his mother’s message.
“I know, Jules.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, uncaring of who might see. “I know the gossip mags are out there. That’s why you are not going to go out alone.”
Another hard shake of her head. “Jake, you can’t be dragged—”
“No.” Jake rarely put down his foot in this way, but when he did, he didn’t budge. “This isn’t negotiable, Jules. You’re mine, and I stand by my people.”
“But Esme,” Juliet argued back in a whisper, her priorities clear.
“They won’t dare.” Jake knew that for a fact. “Our family has cut certain magazines from interviews because they published pictures of our children. They won’t risk it, especially as they’re hoping to get some kind of an exclusive from Gabriel and Charlotte.” Not that his brother would give them anything but crumbs—just enough to ensure they didn’t start making up shit.
Another glance at Esme. “I—”
“We aren’t discussing this, Jules.” He kissed her hard on the lips. “You wait for me to exit, and then you give me a minute to get Esme to my parents.” He held her gaze. “Promise me that.”
A stubborn pause before she finally nodded, but there was a haunted wariness in her eyes. He didn’t attempt to address that wariness—sometimes the only thing that worked was showing someone that their trust was valued and wouldn’t be betrayed. Juliet was going to learn that Jacob Esera didn’t let down his people.
He stuck.
“Daddy! Jules!” Esme pointed excitedly as Jake’s bag came around. He’d tied a big blue bow on the handle especially so Esme could find it among the sea of other black bags.
“Good spotting, Boo,” he said and stepped forward to get it off the conveyer belt. His daughter knew not to cross the yellow line, but she was happily pointing out her own bag, a pale blue thing emblazoned with—shockingly—the face of her favorite princess.
He took that off the belt as well and was ready when Esme said, “Jules, look!”
Jules, too, had tied a bow around her handle after Esme gave her a hair ribbon and said, “Then we can see it easy.” Her bow was a bright pink. He saw Juliet step forward to grab her bag, but he was already there. Come hell or high water, he was going to teach her that it was okay if she permitted herself to rely on him.
“Do we have them all?” he asked Esme after grabbing a luggage cart and putting the bags on it.
Brow furrowed, she carefully counted. “Yup. Here, Mr. Mouse can sit on top. He likes to ride the cart.”
Juliet held out a hand after another shaky glance at Jake. Esme slipped her hand into her new favorite person’s, and they headed off to the Customs line, both Esme and Juliet dragging their roll-ons behind them. Thankfully, the line was moving fast today, and they got to a Customs officer in a matter of minutes. That the gray-haired man recognized both Jake and Juliet was obvious from the way his eyes flicked between them.
“Look, guys,” he said, after quizzing them on their declaration cards and stamping them with the all clear, “just a heads-up. There’s a media scrum outside. I think it might be for you.” He glanced at Juliet. “We can get you out another way if you want.”
Juliet was openly taken aback by the unexpected kindness, but she caught her breath and said, “No, it’ll be worse if I try to avoid them. But thank you for the warning.”
The officer nodded. “Good luck. Follow the green line to the exit.”
Once past him and on their way to the doors, however, they found themselves inspected by one of the airport’s drug-sniffing beagles.
“No petting,” he warned Esme. “He’s at work.”
Esme waved at the “doggie” instead and said, “Daddy, see? He’s so nice and he works hard.”
“Baby girl, we are not getting a dog.”
“But I gonna get the poopy thing,” Esme protested as the beagle moved on, giving them final clearance to exit.
Juliet looked between the two of them. “The poopy thing?”
“Tell you later,” Jake promised and stopped the luggage cart before the sliding doors to the waiting area. “Wait here.” He caught the eye of a nearby security officer who seemed to be watching them. “I need to get my daughter out, then I’m going to come back to the doors so Juliet doesn’t have to walk out alone.”
The woman nodded. “Figured the cameras were for you.”
Sometimes it was good to live in a small and rugby-obsessed nation where his face was immediately recognizable. “Thank you.” He took Esme’s hand. “Come on, Boo.”
“Jules, come.”
“Jules is going to take a couple more minutes. But she won’t be far.” A glance at Juliet to remind her of her promise.
She nodded though her face was torn.
He headed out, Esme’s hand held firmly in his. He controlled the cart with his other hand. Despite his parents’ warning, the media contingent was far bigger than he’d expected. It was, in fact, certifiably insane. It was either a slow news week or Reid’s stories had somehow caused a rise in ratings.