The Next Day (Foothills Book 2) by Carrie Thorne (christmas read aloud TXT) 📕

Cradling the rapidly cooling mug in her hands, she didn’t move when he staggered out to join her. Jeans slung carelessly low on his hips, his black t-shirt hugging that flawless body, his bare feet and unruly hair tugged at something deep in her gut. The romantic dreamer that had probably gotten them into this mess to begin with.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both looking out at the scenery as if nothing was wrong.

Finally, Zane rested his coffee on his knee. “So,” he said, glancing her way then back to the water.

“So,” she sighed.

“I’ve got this thing on my finger. You’ve got one too.”

She nodded.

“I don’t have a fucking clue why.”

Setting down her empty mug on the table between them, she took a long breath. “I don’t think ‘why’ is the issue. It’s the what-are-we-going-to-do that’s freaking me out. An overabundance of pheromones, add some champagne and cocktails and weed, then an easy-access wedding chapel… well, that’s a Freya-disaster waiting to happen.”

“I think it’s my fault.” His gaze was steady, honest. “The last few days, that’s the most alive I’ve felt in years. The idea of leaving all this behind was eating away at me. Then, well, shit, my mom called yesterday.”

“She did? How did it go?”

“Again proved why I should stop trying. First, she had no idea that I hadn’t even been deployed the last few months. Then when she heard I was out, well, I guess my ex has been working for them for the last few years and just made partner at their architectural firm. Mom thinks it would be so great if I moved home and got back together with Blaire.” He shrugged, then downed the last of his coffee before setting it on the table. “She was so set on it, and I knew I wouldn’t hear the end of it. Her badgering can last years. So. Shit. Well, I sort of told her I remarried.”

For the first time that morning, a laugh bubbled up in Freya’s throat.

Glancing over to gauge her reaction, he caught her look and smiled back, shaking his head at himself. “It slipped out. As usual, my own words bit me in the ass as soon as I’d said them. She and my dad are planning to fly out to meet you.”

“We could have faked it,” she reached her foot over and nudged his, the corner of her mouth quirking up.

His head tilted, a subtle smile lightening his dark mood. “That was my plan. But I’m thinking, once stoned-me got all sentimental last night with ideas of weddings and that chapel next door to the restaurant…”

“Both of our fault then.”

“Looks like.”

Freya rose to her feet and leaned her elbows on the rail. Looking out over the water, she felt her brain settling. “Let’s pack up and see if we can catch an earlier flight. I’d rather not run into anyone right now. Especially my parents. Then, once we get home, we can call Lincoln or Grady and see if one of them can help us with an annulment.”

Rubbing a hand over his face, Zane stood and headed inside. Within a few minutes, they were out the door. Freya texted her mom from the lobby while they waited for their cab. Trying to catch an early flight. See you at home.

A few seconds later, she got a text back, Jealous. Your dad’s fishing and I’m hungover. What was in those drinks?

Or those cupcakes?

I’m going to do some detective work and I’ll let you know what happened. I haven’t been that high since before I met your father.

Zane and the driver loaded their bags into the trunk as she stuffed her phone back in her pocket. He raised an eyebrow, silently inquiring about the messages.

“My mom’s going to kick some ass about where that weed came from.”

“Good. That was pretty fucked up.”

They rode in silence on the way to the airport. Freya’s knee was rattling a mile a minute, searching the internet to see how annulments worked. Zane’s leg stretched across the midline, his knee pressed against hers as he squished into the cramped electric car. He didn’t budge, his eyes dark, but otherwise he was completely unreadable.

As they drove into Reno, he reached over and stilled her vibrating knee with his hand. He let go. Her knee started back up again. Again, he stilled her movement with his hand. This time, he stayed. The burning connection melted away the tension that the vibration had fruitlessly combated.

At the airport, he took their garment bag again, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Mindlessly, they linked hands and headed inside. Logically, she knew that sort of thing had to stop, but she was so freaked and wanted out of this asap, she paradoxically needed that connection, to know they were in this together.

They’d timed it well, only needing to wait in line a few minutes before the attendant flagged them over. “How can I help you today?” he asked with a chipper smile.

Zane adjusted his backpack and asked, “Our flight home to SeaTac isn’t until tonight, but we were hoping you might have openings on an earlier flight.”

“Let’s see what we have,” the attendant scanned the computer. Looking up, the attendant offered an apologetic smile, “I have a flight leaving in forty-five minutes, but the last two seats together are in first class. For the last-minute upgrade, it will be a hundred fifty dollars per ticket and there won’t be time to check any luggage.”

He flashed Freya an adoring smile; rather than feel adored, she cringed at the uncharacteristic softness, “What do you think, Babe? Won’t that be a nice treat for our honeymoon?”

She swallowed the cringe, smiling just as sweetly. “Oh, I suppose we can pull from the credit card to celebrate.”

Brightening, the attendant clicked a