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

didn’t have to rent a moving truck to get up here. Still regretting that I got rid of my books.”

Swallowing the last bite, he knew it was inevitable. He cleared both of their plates, rinsed, and checked that the dishwasher was empty and loaded them in.

Grady strolled into the living room. Zane followed, forcing himself to sit on the opposite chair, his knee threatening to vibrate like Freya’s had all morning.

Not saying a word, Grady waited.

“So,” Zane began. “I, uh, well. I went with Freya to her cousin’s wedding at Lake Tahoe this weekend.”

Leaning back, Grady crossed his arms and seemed to smile, as if he already guessed it. Jackass, he let Zane try to put the words together all on his own.

“Bunch of college kids, rowdy as hell. Anyway. Short of it is, according to Freya’s mom that asked around this morning, they served the wrong cupcakes for dessert and drugged all the guests with weed. Apparently those were for their friends after all we old folks went to bed.”

Eyebrows lowering, Grady shifted in his seat.

Controlling his breathing, Zane swallowed a wave of nausea that lingered from those damn drinks. Even more so from what he’d done. “We’d already had a few drinks, so by the time we left, we were trashed. With a serious case of munchies, we went to the restaurant across the street. Then, well, we sort of wandered into a wedding chapel instead of heading back to our room right away. And, well, we, uh, we got married.”

He held up his hand, the titanium band still on his ring finger. Should have taken it off, but he didn’t want to lose it. He’d already checked his bank account; last night cost a pretty penny. They’d hit the restaurant, the chapel, the jewelry store. Licensing fees, photographer.

Leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, Zane cradled his head in his hands. So embarrassing. He was closer to forty than twenty. What the hell?

Grady rested his hands behind his head and grinned. “As you’re here instead of at home with your wife, I’m guessing you’re looking to find a way out of it?”

He nodded.

“I’m assuming Freya’s wanting out, too?”

“Yeah. Shit. I’m divorced. She’s been engaged a few times. Neither of us intended to get married. Eloping with a woman I’ve known less than a month? Dumbass idea. Can we get it annulled?”

Relaxed as if this were no biggie, Grady plopped his feet up on the ottoman. “Not called an annulment in Washington, it’s a Determination of Validity, but same thing. As you were both intoxicated, we have a good case for it.”

“Okay, good,” he nodded, letting out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been withholding. “Freya will be relieved.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Zane stiffened.

“But,” the corners of his mouth turned up with ironic amusement, “that won’t work if you two go around acting married.”

“No more sex?”

Grady muffled a laugh. “Not if you want that annulment.”

“I really don’t want two divorces.”

“Then keep your hands to yourself. Did you consummate it?”

Zane concentrated, trying to bring more of it back. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Woke up with my pants on,” he shrugged, leaning back into the couch.

Grady laughed out loud. “I can’t wait to hear Freya’s side of things.”

“She doesn’t remember any of it.”

“Do you?”

Zane cringed, “Not enough. I never forget. But I never drink such awful shit or get high, either.”

“Sorry man. Think you two will be able to stay friends?”

He nodded. “That was the plan to begin with. Burn out this chemistry we’ve got, then come home and pretend the weekend never happened.”

“Don’t think it works that way.”

“I know, but it was absolutely worth finding out the hard way. Or it would have been, if we hadn’t fucked it up by getting married.” He glared at the ring. Visions of another ring bounced around his thick skull. Wide gold band. Engraved inside, some bullshit about true love. Then handing it back to Blaire when she demanded her freedom. Not caring that he hadn’t slept in weeks, had been shot at, pushed to his limits while trying to save the world, his marriage, and their finances. “So how do we get the annulment?”

“As I said, keep your dick in your pants. Don’t cohabitate. Swing into the office later this week with a retainer fee so I can process everything for you. Well, unless you want to do all of it yourself.”

“Hell no. You can have my entire damn savings, just make it all go away.”

Grady chuckled, leaning forward in his seat. “Only enough to make it binding; I’m not profiting on your stupidity.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I’ll have you fill out some paperwork, then we’ll see about scheduling a court appearance and you can explain your drunken night to the judge.”

Groaning inwardly, he imagined having to retell this again. In a staid courtroom. In front of strangers. “All that damn work to end this charade, when all I had to do before was scrawl an illegible signature?”

“You messed up, you have to pay the consequences.”

What a fucking mess. He hopped up and headed for the door. “Thanks,” he said, genuinely meaning it this time.

Grady followed him to the door, then swung back to the bookshelf. He studied the diversity of spines, then grabbed out a book with a ripped guy in dog tags and little else, and handed it over.

Zane scowled, his eyes drawing up from the smutty cover to Grady’s beachy blues. “What the fuck is this?”

A smug-ass grin, Grady shrugged, “Don’t judge a book by its cover. It’s about a cranky Navy SEAL that finds happiness with a snarky schoolteacher.”

Looking at his new attorney like he was fucking nuts, Zane tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

Grady shrugged, “Maybe you can explain