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

grabbed a beer for himself, enjoying watching Freya interact amongst those she’d known her whole life.

“And you,” Denise smiled. “Home at last. How are things going? Have you found a space to work that makes you feel productive? Selling globally going okay from our small corner of the world?”

Freya crossed one foot in front of the other as she stood linked with her aunt, the casual gesture showing how close they were. “It’s tough. I haven’t been as productive as I’d like. I need a studio.”

“None of the bedrooms work at the house?”

“Maybe the dining room. But I doubt Asher’s going to make it the full six months before moving in, and, although I know I’d be welcome, I do want to use the next few months to find a space to make my own; someplace I can knock out walls if I have to, as good lighting can make a piece.”

“I understand that. You just let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.”

Tammy came out of the house, joining at Freya’s other side. “You liked the light in your old bedroom; you can always move back home, or even use it as a temporary studio.”

Freya’s smile remained genuine, but Zane could see the nine-one-one emergency flashing behind those brilliant blues. He nodded to Freya, “You were going to give me a tour?”

She leaped to his side. “Of course.” Linking elbows with him, she strolled toward the pool and cascading hot tub. “Thanks.”

“They’re supportive of you. But, well, I know I like to have my feet steady beneath me before I’m open to help.”

“Me too,” she leaned in, then immediately righted her posture at the familiarity of the gesture. Waving her arm over the water in front of them, she commented, “So. This is the pool.”

Grinning, he brushed his thumb over hers, then pulled away. “Yup. Lovely.”

Standing a few feet away, her body moved smoothly, openly, as if they were still joined. “Think my parents know more than they’re letting on?”

“Your dad mentioned ‘wild’ pictures on his phone. Honestly, I ran away before I could find out what he meant. I immediately envisioned pictures from our wedding and wanted to ask to see, then I realized, shit, what if he meant he and your mom were up to something I don’t want to see?”

She threw her head back and laughed, “Good call. They’ve never exactly been closed off about sex, but I think my dad would have a stroke if he discovered naked pictures of he or my mom on his phone.”

Continuing their tour, he followed Freya over to the seating area where Lincoln, Pippa, and Sophie had already settled. He heard a splash as Asher came sprinting out of the house and dove into the pool.

Pippa had set out flutes on the lip of the propane fireplace and had a champagne bottle nestled in a silvery bucket filled with ice. “Hey guys, we’re toasting,” she grinned.

At his side, Freya shivered like she’d teased him about earlier. “No thank you. I’m all champagned out these days, and I’ll bet Zane would agree.”

Pippa rose to her feet and pulled the bottle from the ice. “We have twenty more bottles leftover from our wedding that we need to use up. Please have a few sips at least. Besides,” she winked and whispered, “we never got to toast your wedding.”

Flashing her cousin a death glare, Freya whispered, “Shush. You’re lucky I told you.”

Pippa grinned mischievously, “No matter. I will be supportive of whatever you decide, but I can tell you right now, you’re not getting an annulment.”

Zane clenched his jaw and moved to her side, forming a quiet wall of resistance.

Rolling her eyes, Freya’s flip-flopped foot tapped furiously, “Please, Pip, this is hard enough.”

Instantly, Pippa showed her sweet side and held the champagne bottle to one side, wrapping her other around Freya’s upper back, speaking softly. “I’m sorry. I love you and want you to be happy. And you look happy with Zane. He’s twice the man any of the others ever were. But if he’s not the one, or you’re not ready, I’ve got your back.”

Zane bit his cheek and stared at the ground as Pippa stepped back. He wasn’t sure if she’d meant for him to hear all that, but something told him that had been her intent. As if he weren’t miserable enough already.

Twisting the wire safety off the champagne bottle, Pippa grimaced as she muttered, “You don’t even have to drink any of this, but at least pretend.” Rocking the top, Pippa struggled to uncork the heavy bottle.

Zane reached to help, having opened enough when hiding in the kitchen at his parents’ parties. “May I?”

“No, I got it,” she grumbled, putting more muscle into it.

Having seen it coming a mile away, the pop didn’t scare him, nor the cork whizzing passed his ear as he ducked out of the way. But the spray of foamy bubbles soaking him head-to-toe was shocking and unpleasant.

Closing his eyes, he wiped off the sticky sweet liquid from his face. As soon as he could see again, he looked down to see he was utterly drenched. At his side, Freya was scowling and equally soaked, her top and skirt pasted to her skin. She licked the champagne off her lips and adopted one of those I’m-pissed-but-won’t-admit-it-because-I-love-you smiles to mask her irritation. She blinked and looked up at the sky.

Pippa laughed out loud, covering her mouth to hide her obvious amusement. “I’m so sorry,” she said over and over. “Really. I’m so, so sorry.”

Shaking more of the bubbly off his hand, Zane shook his head and managed a smile, “That’s okay. Really. I’ve got my swim stuff in the car anyway.”

Denise came dashing over. “Oh my. Pippa, honey, really? Could you not soak our guests?”

Rolling her eyes, Pippa laughed