Page 5 of While We Waited

“Sir. I’m not touching your wife,” I repeat.

He yanks his wife away from me. “Not anymore you aren’t.”

His wife rubs her arm where he touched her. “Maybe you should focus more on how you touch your wife rather than how strangers do.”

He stomps toward me and gets in my face. Never mind how at six-foot-three I’m several inches taller than him.

He pokes me in the chest. “You do not tell me how to treat my wife.”

The lobby doors open again and two police officers stroll inside. I don’t know who contacted them but I’m grateful they did. I have no intention of spending my Monday morning fighting with some man who doesn’t know how to treat his wife.

“Well, well, well, what is Huddy up to now?”

I grit my teeth. I hate the nickname Huddy more than Double Crown. But the inhabitants of the island enjoy reminding me of how I’m plain ‘ol Huddy to them.

“Hey, Weston,” I greet. I went to high school with Weston. He was two grades ahead of me but in a small community like Smuggler’s Hideaway, everyone knows everyone.

“Lucas,” I nod to his partner who I met when he had his wedding at the resort two months ago.

Weston scans the scene and smirks. “Nothing’s changed since high school I see.”

“Of course, you have the police in your pocket,” the husband mutters before poking me in the chest again. “This man was assaulting my wife.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Wesley says. He sweeps an arm over the lobby where numerous people have their phones out recordingthe incident. Great. Just great. Those videos will be on social media within the hour. My agent is going to lose his mind.

“Everyone here knows the truth,” he continues.

“And the truth is?” Lucas asks.

“Perhaps we should continue this someplace more private,” I suggest.

“Private?” The husband scoffs. “You want to run away, Mr. Hot Shot Football Star?”

“I was trying to save you from embarrassment but if you want to do this here, fine by me.” I shrug. It won’t be the first time my face is on the front page of a gossip magazine. I would hope it’ll be the last, but I know better.

“Save me from embarrassment?” he shouts. “You’re the one who tried to steal my wife away.”

Steal his wife away? Really? I met her less than five minutes ago.

“And you’re the one who assaulted your wife when you grabbed her.”

The atmosphere in the room becomes icy but he doesn’t notice. “She’s my wife. I can’t assault her! She’s mine!”

Weston steps in front of the man. “It’s time for us to have a little chat. In private.”

“This is bullshit.”

Weston removes his handcuffs from his belt and twirls them in the air. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your decision.”

“You’re protecting him because he’s a football player.”

“I’ve known Huddy since before he could throw a ball,” Weston says. “If I recall correctly, he peed on the first football his dad ever gave him.”

“Weston,” I growl. “It’s not story time.”

He shrugs. “Merely showing the man how I’m not biased.”

“Not biased my ass!” The man screams in Weston’s face. “You’re handcuffing me while he gets away with trying to steal my wife from me.”

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