The Next Day (Foothills Book 2) by Carrie Thorne (mind reading books .txt) 📗

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not. But it’s either that or lose yourself, as you’re so afraid of.”

12

Eat, Sleep, Live, Zing

Monday morning. Ha. As a woman that followed a very nontraditional schedule, Freya had never understood the hatred for Mondays. She’d actually enjoyed them. Until today.

Sophie was at work. Pippa hadn’t started the schoolyear yet, but she was setting up her classroom and making lesson plans. Asher was still at training. Her parents were both at work. Grady and Lincoln were at work. Everyone was busy.

Except for Zane. He was right next door. Nothing more pressing on his plate than their annulment.

She was too cranky to paint. So many artists fueled their negative energy into their work. That really wasn’t her style. She liked to pull the beauty of the world around her into her art, to convey its power.

Forcing herself outside, she headed to her favorite lookout point and did her yoga. A cool breeze, the sun rising overhead, the scent of summer wafting across the field. It wasn’t enough. By the time she finished, her muscles burned and protested at how she’d pushed the limit, but her brain wasn’t any calmer.

Stalking back into the house, she refused to look up at Zane’s apartment. What if he was watching? Would he wave? If he did, should she come up to visit? Were they still friends or should they avoid each other?

She showered and threw on a lazy pair of jeans and an old cotton t-shirt that had seen better days, updated to match her painting needs with the sleeves and collar cut off, a knot in the back to keep the extra fabric out of her way. Leaving her feet bare, noting at least her toenails still had a fresh coat of peppermint green, she knew what she had to do. Swinging open the front door, she stormed out before she changed her mind.

Not watching where she was going, she slammed right into the brick wall of Zane. Groaning at the impact, he steadied her against him. “Hey,” he said as she clung to him, even though the risk of falling had ceased.

“Hi. I was just heading up to see how your conversation with Grady went.” Her breath rushed in and out, her pulse kicking up as she tried to control her reaction to him. Every kiss, every touch flashed through her mind, his hands on her sides bringing it all back so vividly.

“That’s what I was coming over for.”

Hands clutching his t-shirt, she opened her grip and smoothed where she’d wrinkled, the movement quickly turning into an excuse to hold on longer. She tried to gather her bearings, taking a full reset breath.

Turning, she opened the door and waved him in after. Moving into the kitchen, she was about to pour a cup of coffee, but next to the old-fashioned drip, was her espresso-on-demand. A genuine sigh of relief passed her lips as she grabbed a pair of the smaller mugs from the cupboard and turned on the brewer.

Handing Zane the first cup, she waited for hers and joined him a moment later. “Let’s go outside,” she nodded back toward the front door.

He took a sip and followed. Cowlick unruly, his jaw rough with stubble, his forest eyes even darker than usual, he looked to have slept as terribly as she had.

In the side-by-side rockers, she closed her eyes and found the rhythm of the morning. “Can he fix it?”

Zane nodded. “He’s getting the paperwork ready for us today. Then I’m to bring him lunch tomorrow and he’ll help me wade through the documents while he eats.”

An odd combination of relief and constriction wreaked havoc on her stomach. “That’s a relief.”

“Sort of. Apparently it’s tough to get an annulment, well, have the marriage declared ‘invalid,’ but we’ve got a good case. We’ve got to act the opposite of married while this processes, and we’ll have to provide proof that we were incompetent to get married that night.”

“Proof? Should we be getting drug tested?”

He chuckled, his head tilting to the side in an amused nod. “I found receipts and temporary copy of the license in my suitcase, and I do have a charge for photography on my credit card. I googled the place, and apparently, they promise that you will receive the photos in the mail in about three weeks. Let’s be sure to schedule the hearing when we can bring pictures of us trashed while we got hitched.”

“Oh, I didn’t even think of that. This can’t have been cheap. I’ll reimburse you for my half.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Scowling, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and pulled up her bank account. Scrolling, she found what she was looking for. “I have a two-hundred-dollar charge for a jewelry store.” She glanced at his hand and the band he still wore.

“Not even a fraction of what I spent on yours.”

She still wore the intricate band, afraid to lose it with how expensive it looked. Apparently, she was right. “Think we can return them?” Bile rose in her throat. Three broken engagements, and now an invalid marriage. And this was her favorite ring yet. The gem matched her eyes, the band told secret stories of its own.

What would her family think if they found out? Last time they’d seen her, she was leaving one fiancé at the altar. This time, she’d irresponsibly let herself get intoxicated and gotten married, annulling it as soon as possible. Her father was always supportive, but he had to be embarrassed.

“Doesn’t look like it. I googled that, too. Sounds like a shady set-up to me, late night weddings and attached jewelry store, not caring that the bride and groom slurred through their I dos. They look legit on their website, but with the late