Page 63 of Faking It with my Billionaire Grump

“I gotta go,” I blurt, spinning on my heels and ignoring Mrs. Windrow’s bewildered expression as I hoof it out to the parking lot.

I probably break every traffic law known to man, but I don’t care. Stopping Tilly from getting on that plane is worth getting a ticket over. I have to catch her. I just have to.

When I park the truck, I turn to Elsa. “Stay, girl. I’ll be right back.”

And then I run.

I’ll admit, cowboy boots are not the ideal running shoe, but they don’t slow me down. I dash through the bustling airport, searching the area for any sign of Tilly. Would she have gone through security yet? Would she have stopped for a coffee? Maybe she’s in the bathroom.

I have no idea. All I know is that I have to find her. With my head spinning left and right, I weave through the throngs of travelers, my eyes scanning in every direction, desperate for any sign of her. But she’s nowhere to be found.

I now have a choice. I don’t have a ticket, and without one, I can’t get through security. Well, not legally anyway. I glance at my watch again. 11:05. She’s on the other side of all those X-ray machines. She has to be. In fact, she’s probably readying to board right now.

Do it!

Picking the one with the least amount of people, I launch myself past the line, through the scanner, which screams at me as I go, and fly by the astonished security personnel.

“Hey!” a big guy bellows at me.

But I can’t stop now. I have to find her. I’m trying to run and scan the flight boards at the same time. It’s not working, and stopping for no more than a couple of seconds, I see the gate her plane is flying out of.

Behind me, three guys are heading my way, but I’m not waiting on them. I need to see Tilly, and I need to see her now.

My long legs thump down the concourse, and as I fly around the corner, I see her gate. And then, I see her.

“Tilly,” I yell.

She spins around, and her jaw drops at the sight of me. Or maybe it’s the security guys behind that are still chasing me. With a final burst of adrenaline, I sprint toward her. She’s still standing there, her mouth as wide as her eyes. The flight attendant has the same dumbfounded look on her face.

“Jake,” Tilly gasps.

When I finally reach her, I grab her hand. “I love you,” I blurt.

A few seconds later, I’m tackled to the ground and kissing the tiles on the concourse floor.

25

Tilly

“Don’t hurt him,” Icry as three huge guys pin Jake to the ground. “Please don’t hurt him.”

The men have angry scowls and clearly don’t listen to a word I say as they roughly manhandle him. I’m scared they’re going to break his arm because these guys, all three of them, are not exactly small.

But when they yank Jake to his feet, with his hands now cuffed behind his back, he gives me this huge grin before they drag him away. My heart flutters as I try to comprehend what just happened, and I can only stand there in astonishment.

“Miss?” the flight attendant says.

I look back at her standing there, looking at me patiently. And then I notice the crowd of people that are all gawking at me. They’re clearly as shocked as I am—well, not quite, but close—and in that second, I realize I’m currently the center of attention.

Oh, Lord.

My face flushes bright red, and I smile coyly.

“Miss,” the flight attendant says again.

She looks down at my boarding pass, then back at me.

“Oh. Er. Yes. I’m going to…” I point in the direction the security guys are dragging my crazy fake husband. “I’m going to go with him.”

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