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

thought they were only here for a few days. Why did you pack your entire wardrobe?”

“Toiletries, personal items, and a variety of outfits with layers, in part because I need to make it look like I live there, and because I don’t know if we’ll be taking them for a drive to the city or hiking or sit around all day. I know nothing about these people, except that they don’t deserve Zane for a son.”

“Makes sense. I’m lucky; my future in-laws had pretty much adopted me before I even met Asher. And as much as Paul drives Asher nuts, he loves him to bits.”

“You do have good future in-laws. Are you letting him propose yet?”

“Nah. I’m thinking of beating him to the punch just to be ornery.”

Inhaling every molecule of oxygen that would squeeze into her lungs, she rested her hand on the doorknob. “Wish me luck?”

“You don’t need it. But good luck anyway.”

Turning the knob and swinging the door open, Freya dashed out the door and slammed into the brick wall she had almost considered anticipating this time. Hands steadying her shoulders, sweeping down her arms, Zane chuckled in his gruff timbre that vibrated deep into her as effectively as the little toy she kept in her bedside table.

“Sorry,” she murmured, the smile inevitable as she looked up and met his gaze for the first time in weeks. Were his eyes always so rich? Biting her cheek, she grinned even bigger. “You know what? I used to be considered graceful. Aware of my surroundings. Yet whenever you’re around, I rush and knock into things and feel like a complete moron.”

“I hear that a lot.”

“Smartass.”

He snatched her suitcase in one hand and laced his fingers with hers in the other. Weeks ago, the simple gesture had rocked her resolve. Now… it anchored her to the here and now, yet set her flying into the clouds like one of those expensive dragon kites she’d never been able to master.

Annulment. Freedom. No man to affect her productivity or change her plans or… Shit. This sucked.

At the stairs, he waved her on ahead. His groan was audible as he walked a few steps behind. “What?” she asked.

“Has anyone ever told you that you should be an ass model?”

“Huh. Nope. Little weird.”

“Just saying. If you could see it the way I do? You’d paint nothing but that ass.”

“I have no response to that,” she laughed as she walked into the apartment.

“The rest of you is good too. Hell, your rack could be on the cover of Playboy.”

“Not so much,” she rolled her eyes.

“Again, just saying. I’m fond of them. They’ve gotten me into a whole lot of trouble.”

“It’s been a long two weeks, hasn’t it?”

He tugged his short hair in his fist. “Apparently. Okay. I’m moving on. We’re not officially cohabitating, we’re merely covering for a lie I told before the marriage issue. Nor will we have sex or anything resembling what married people do.”

“Except meet the in-laws.”

“Except that.” He grinned and set her suitcase on his bed. “Oh shit, I almost forgot.” He opened his bedside drawer and pulled out her ring. He stepped close and held the ring up for inspection.

Taking a deep breath, he took her hand and exhaled slowly, his eyes heavy on the thin piece of expensive metal. Prickles danced over her skin as he slid the ring over her finger, only the slightest resistance at the knuckle before settling in like it belonged.

“This is really pretty,” she sighed.

“I, uh… I picked it out.” His cheeks flushed pink.

“You remember?”

He nodded. “Bits and pieces have popped back in. You insisted we pick out each other’s rings. Some sort of test.”

Biting her lip, she resisted the flutter that beat in her chest. Randy had picked out a sweet ring for her, a gold band with a fleck of a solitary diamond, but boring. Vince hadn’t exactly bothered with anything fancy; they were broke art students at the time anyway, so he’d folded an IOU into an origami-style ring. Clever, but it hadn’t even lasted as long as their pitifully short engagement. Giovanni had a lovely ring passed down through his family, but it was so extravagant it felt heavy on her finger, and he’d delivered so many warnings that she better not lose it, that it never felt like hers.

“Oh,” she startled, digging into her pocket. “I have yours, too.” When he held out his open hand, she set it gingerly in his palm. It suited him.

Clearing his throat, unloading the weight of the untimely moment, Zane opened the top drawer of his dresser and gestured to the closet. “Make yourself at home,” he shrugged. “Really, I can’t thank you enough for doing this.”

She wanted to scoff that they probably didn’t deserve all the effort, but swallowed her judgment. Who knows, maybe they weren’t the jerks she’d made them out to be. Just a few comments from Zane now and again, and she had the distinct feeling they were heartless pricks. But if it helped Zane to find what he was looking for, she was all in. “You can pay me back later.”

“Yeah?” he tugged his lower lip between his teeth in a wicked grin and stepped toward her… then backed up again. Yep, this was going to be a long couple of days. “Anyway, I’ll, uh, go put away the groceries.”

18

Saved by the Bell

They managed to behave themselves for a solid two hours until his parents arrived. His jaw had been ticking like mad as he stared at the words swimming around on the page. Giving up, he tossed the book onto the middle cushion their bare feet shared.

Setting her sketch onto the chaise next to her, Freya nudged his foot, a snarky grin on