“What was that?” Andrea asked, her expression pinched.
“I told you the reporter was a native.” Lance explained.
“Yes, but you didn’t tell me you grew up with her or that you used to date. Why did you keep that from me?”
“Because it was a long time ago. I’m marrying you, aren’t I?”
She crossed her arms. “Are you? You won’t even move to be with me. Now I find out your ex-girlfriend is… wait a minute… she’s been here this whole time?” She pointed to him. “You’re having second thoughts about us, aren’t you?”
“Andrea, let’s not get into that.” He stalked off to the kitchen, but she followed.
“You’re telling me that there’s nothing between you two?” She asked.
Why did his stomach tingle? Heat further rose behind his eyelids. He opened his mouth to answer, but Andrea continued.
“I don’t know. She seems nice, but I couldn’t help but wonder...”
“Wonder what?” Why did his pulse increase?
“If she’s over you. I know you said high school, but you’d be surprised how women can carry a torch for a man.”
Lance wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t go there. “I think she was nervous in interviewing you.”
Andrea exhaled, tapping her fingers on the kitchen island. “I just keep thinking...”
“What?” He faced her.
She shrugged. “You’ve told me about your past and that you were married before. You told me you dated around, I just didn’t expect to see one of your exes here. It felt... awkward.”
Lance wanted to reassure her, but that would release all the skeletons in his closet. He breathed easier when Chantelle didn’t mention their brief marriage. She could have. It was the perfect opportunity to bash him to Andrea. How he left her at the hospital after losing their child.
Lance rubbed at his forehead.
“I haven’t made the situation better.” Andrea’s expression softened. “Have I?”
His body relaxed, and he extended his arms to her. She hurried to him and he hugged her tight. “No. I wasn’t honest.” He wasn’t truthful now. Inwardly, he winced. Why was the past still so painful? “I don’t want you doubting.”
She stroked his back. “I trust you, Lance.”
His heart pounded. He wouldn’t start their marriage with lies. “Babe, I need to—”
She drew back and pressed her fingers to his lips. “I don’t want to know. Not now. I just want to enjoy being with you.”
“But I—”
She shook her head. “No, Lance. Please? I’d rather not right now.”
Lance sighed and cupped her face in his hands. “I am glad you’re here.”
She gave a faint smile. “Me too.”
Dropping his hands from her face, he added. “If you want me to, I can request another reporter. I can assure you though, Chantelle is a professional.”
“It’s too close to the wedding to think like that.” Andrea scratched at her arms.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
A giggle escaped her lips. “We’re getting married.”