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

the serenity of home. Of curling up with Zane under the stars.

Of not leaving Zane to go to court alone to invalidate their marriage.

Shattering the fear, victorious thrill pumped through her veins, weakening her knees in the best way possible as the best damn vision of her existence strolled in the door. Larger than life, flipping gorgeous, she laid eyes on the Norse god, superhero, Italian model, Navy SEAL… sweet, sincere man that bit his tongue to avoid the argument, but wouldn’t hesitate to risk his life to save another.

Where he’d worn simple slacks and a button-up to the wedding, tonight he wore a slick tuxedo that hugged his broad shoulders. His gait powerful, controlled like a wolf in the night, he stood illuminated in the bold light.

At her side, Persephone swallowed loudly, “Oh my. Is that your soldier?”

Breath still caught in her throat, Freya nodded.

“Well. I’ll leave you to it,” she gave Freya’s shoulder a squeeze and left her alone.

Unable to move as her body had turned into a timeless statue, she waited. Striding across the gallery floor, he stopped just out of reach. His head tilted to the side, and a shy smile tugged at his lips.

She exhaled carefully, hoping sound came out when she spoke, “You came.”

“Of course.”

“But your parents?”

“You’re more important.”

“You hate to fly.”

“I do.”

“And you hate crowds.”

“I do, but I’ll make an exception when they’re here to talk about how amazing you are.”

“How did you get in?”

He winked, “I look an awful lot like the guy in the painting by tonight’s featured artist.”

“What about our annulment?”

Had she said something about a superhero before? Thundering in her chest, tiny lightning blasts healed the lingering fractures in her heart as he knelt down on one knee. “I got the pictures back. It was a gorgeous wedding. Your parents were there.”

“What? Those jerks, they didn’t say a thing,” she laughed, throwing her head back as she felt a giddiness take over that had nothing to do with the prosecco.

He grinned, “They didn’t want us to feel pressured. Freya, I don’t care what it took for us to get married, because I’m so glad we did. I would never have dared trying it again. I was so terrified of marrying someone that didn’t believe in me, of not believing in myself. But you… you want me to be me. And I want you to be you. I love you so damn much. Please, please stay married to me.”

“Get up here,” she pulled on his hands and dragged him to his feet. Standing inches away, she breathed him in, his homey scent, warmed like a soothing aromatherapy in the spotlights and summer evening. Searching his eyes, falling into the forest of them, she let the lava pump through her veins and bring a thrill she’d never known. “I love you.”

“That’s a yes?”

“Hell yes.”

He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers, placing a soft kiss on her lower lip, gliding his tongue along the crease of her lips before she gripped the back of his neck and poured all of her into him, accepting everything in return. Breathless, he pulled away enough to look her in the eyes, alert and steady.

Cheers erupted from the gallery. Toasts and words of wisdom and love echoed around them.

Glancing around at the crowd, Freya found Persephone beaming at her, a subtle nod said the night had gone brilliantly, and she mouthed a thank you, which Freya returned before lacing her fingers with Zane’s and leading him back to the hotel.

22

Epilogue

Sure as shit, Pippa was a ridiculously effective planner. Frightening, quite frankly. But the brewery looked incredible.

Exactly as he’d imagined, the outdoor tables held small fireplaces and heaters to combat the chill of the November evening. Forming weatherproof roofs overhead, connected glass and timber beamed gazebos kept the rain off them, and left the dining area welcome no matter the weather. The outdoor furniture and gazebos were a weird-as-fuck gift from his parents, but it showed their support in a way their self-absorbed dialogue couldn’t.

Asher and Grady sat joking at one of the smaller round tables, leaning back and ragging on each other with some inside joke. Pippa looked quite the hostess at the invitation-only opening, dressed in a flowered dress, ensuring the guests were happy. Of course, he knew everyone here, but Pippa insisted on perfection for the beta night. Sophie and Lincoln were touring inside, sipping from sampler glasses with the Black Op Brewing Company logo emblazoned on the side. Asher’s parents were exploring inside with Tammy and Eamon.

Over the door, the Black Op Brewing Company sign matched the glasses. Edgy and bold to match the logo, it was designed by a top graphic designer in Phoenix that Grady’s brother knew.

Dressed in the sexiest damn blue dress that matched her eyes, topped off with her Italian heels and a leather jacket, Freya’s hips swayed with each step as she joined him. “Sorry I’m late,” she apologized breathlessly as she crossed through the iron gate and linked her hand with his.

“How did it go?” he asked.

She grinned, “Great. My online presence is paying off. The gallery in Seattle has asked me to be one of their permanent featured artists and added a link to my website.”

One of the servers, Miles, greeted them both with a sampler glass of the blackberry brew he’d decided to be one of his first featured. Miles grinned, “Wow, Zane. This place is awesome. Half of Foothills has already called to see if you accept reservations or sell growlers and kegs. I’m betting the other half are trying to get through.”

He accepted the sampler glass and shook Miles’ hand. “Fantastic. You letting anyone know if they want something we don’t have, we’ll work on it? I