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

what the fuss is over Navy SEALs. Asher thinks it’s the abs.”

“Nah. More the untamable rogue they think they can domesticate.”

“Damn, your ex really did a number on you.”

“There’s a reason I don't date much.”

“Well, when you find one about a small-town lawyer that bunks with a man-child and has a psycho overbearing mother and is a moron when it comes to falling for the right woman, let me know.”

“Make this annulment happen, and I'll commission one if I have to.” Managing to find a lightness in the weird-ass day, Zane ducked out the front door and hopped in his truck, tossing the book onto the passenger seat.

Freya dumped her backpack on the front porch and dropped onto the rocker next to Sophie. Leaning back and closing her eyes, she brought a full breath in, and slowly let it out. “I like the new chairs.”

“You picked them out,” Sophie’s voice was light and kind and everything Freya needed.

“And they are going to look stunning with the Turkish blue paint, snow white trim, and walnut accents.” Easing with the rhythm of the rocker, the rustling of the forest branches in the afternoon breeze, Freya smiled softly, “I changed my mind on the color for the door and shutters. Celery.”

“Celery? Are you sure?”

Nodding, Freya painted the image in her mind. “Or grass. Whichever speaks to you more.”

“Huh. Celery or grass. I like it.” Sophie’s voice brightened further, “Oh, I was going to call you, but I didn’t want to interrupt your weekend. Your stuff came.”

Eyes popping open, Freya felt the thrill wash over her. “What a relief. I love charcoal, but I miss color and the messiness and the rebellion of paint.”

“I suspect you'll keep stealing my dresses even though yours have arrived?”

“Hell yes. I look great in them. Help yourself to mine anytime.”

They rocked again in silence. For all the weirdness of the day, Freya relaxed. Like the pace since, shit, since even before Pippa’s wedding, since the broken engagement with Giovanni, since she had decided to come home… months of frantic chaos had eased to a pleasant rhythm. No tours on the schedule for at least a few months, a roof over her head, no car meant she had an excuse to not go anywhere… first time in years she wasn't beholden to anyone.

“How was your weekend?”

Well that didn’t help. “Weird.”

“Wedding was that bad?”

“Worse. We had to dodge my aunts all evening; gossip-happy bloodhounds. One even mentally undressed Zane while asking me how he was in the sack. My cousin and her friends were a horde of partiers. Not a drop off potable water. So, we had a bit more alcohol than we should have, but we’d thought we hadn’t had so much that we couldn’t keep our heads. After all, we’d had one more night of sex ahead of us. But then they served the wrong cupcakes for dessert and we got high as kites on top of the stiff, sugary cocktails they’d served by the bucket.”

“What? How does someone accidentally drug their guests?”

“It was that awful of a wedding.” Legs too weak to even rock the chair anymore, she tilted to a stop and couldn’t move.

“At least you weren't the oddball this time. They don't sound so normal.”

“And then I woke up married.”

“What?” Sophie choked and coughed and laughed in response.

“Finding the energy to nod, Freya pinched her lips together. “Zane’s at Grady’s right now asking how we can get an annulment.”

“I’m so sorry. You were already worried about falling for him.”

Adrenaline pumped into Freya’s limp muscles and rocketed her out of her chair. Pacing on the shady porch, she wanted to throw something or break something or… Dammit. She tried to at least slow her pace. “I was so terrified of giving all of myself up for a man. One night of inhibitions suppressed, and I did exactly that.”

“Marriage doesn’t mean giving everything up.”

“No? Married people roll with the orange couch they hated in the store. They tolerate mushrooms on their pizza even though it makes them gag. They don’t call their mother on Sunday because he is feeling insecure and needs attention. They don’t get to decide to fly back to Europe for shows at the drop of a hat.”

“Unless they have a husband that supports them, maybe even wants to go with them.”

“Ha,” she huffed.

“But they do get to have unlimited access to a shoulder to cry on, a brain to bounce ideas off of, someone to tell them their ass looks great in that dress that really makes them look like a peacock.” Sophie calmly rocked in her chair, sipping her water and setting it back down on the tiled side table. “Or was the sex not good?”

Shoulders dropping, Freya bit her cheek and leaned against the post. “It was amazing. I’ve had some good sex in my life and that was…”

“Like your bodies were built only for each other?”

Flaming hot, acidic tears welled in Freya’s eyes. Unable to speak, she pinched her lips closed and nodded.

Sophie slowed her rocking. “Go ahead and get the annulment. If you two decide to get involved, you can do so at your own pace down the road.”

Letting out a long breath, Freya nodded. “Three broken engagements and now an annulled marriage. What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing.”

“Says the woman who has only been in love once. And she’s waiting six months before taking things to the next level even though she knows he’s the one.”

“How about this. You do your thing. Open your box of supplies and paint if and when you feel like it. Go about your day. Then tomorrow. Eat, sleep, live. Go on like you normally would. Zane will do his thing. I will do mine. The world will turn and