72. Michael

MICHAEL

I ’m used to people staring. It happens everywhere I go. But this…

I glance around as we walk through the Vancouver airport.

This is a little more attention than I normally get.

I tighten my hold on Alice’s hand.

She glances up at me with a smile. “This airport is really nice.”

I nod, agreeing, glad she doesn’t seem to be stressing about all the eyes on us.

No doubt word has gotten out that I’ve made Alice mine.

I knew the photos taken in the Minneapolis airport would get around.

And I knew it would cause a buzz.

But I didn’t think the good people of Canada would care this much.

A flash goes off to my right, and I let go of Alice’s hand to drape my arm over her shoulders.

My protective instincts are flaring, and I need to settle down before I snap at someone and make an even bigger spectacle.

I spot a little convenience shop up ahead and steer Alice toward it.

“I’m gonna grab us some waters.” I bend down a little so Alice can hear me. “We need to stay hydrated after travel.”

“Probably smart.” She bobs her head. “And I could go for a juice, if that’s okay.”

I hug her to my side. “Of course it’s okay. Whatever you want, Baby.”

I don’t drop my arm until we’re standing in front of the beverage coolers, then I use both hands to grab two large water bottles. “Grab whatever else you want. We’ll order up some room service when we get to the hotel, but grab a snack now if you’re hungry.”

Alice grabs a bottle of cranberry juice. “Maybe just something small.”

She turns to the racks behind us—with the granola bars, breath mints, and magazines.

Her juice idea actually sounds pretty good, so I shift both waters into one hand so I can grab my own.

My fingers are just about to graze the plastic when Alice lets out a choked cry.

My heart leaps into my throat, and I spin around, expecting to see someone accosting my woman.

But she’s alone.

Standing only a few feet away from me.

Holding up one of the tabloid magazines.

“What is it?” I step up behind her.

“It’s…” She lifts the tabloid, the paper shaking in her hands. “It’s us.”