When We're Thirty by Casey Dembowski (beautiful books to read .TXT) 📕

low to the ground with equal heights in the arms and the back. They created a George Bailey-versus-Mr. Potter dynamic. Well, the joke was on Jonathan—the Mr. Potters of the world never won.

“I have something for you,” Jonathan said once they were both seated. He held out a large manila envelope.

Hannah glanced at it warily before accepting it. “What’s this?”

He motioned for her to open it, but she left it in her lap. Whatever was in this envelope, Hannah knew instinctively she wanted no part of it.

“Please,” he added when she didn’t move.

She pulled out the document, taking in the top line: Petition for Marriage Annulment.

Hannah’s eyes flicked up to his, anger and shock warring inside her—anger because how dare he make assumptions, and shock because it was Sunday morning, and he’d only found out yesterday afternoon.

“My son can be quite impetuous,” Jonathan said to her silent accusation, “especially after a broken heart. And I must say, his last broken heart was quite thorough.”

“I am aware,” Hannah said curtly.

“Are you? Well, then you can see why I might find it suspect that my son was in his right mind when he married you. And if I’m not mistaken, you yourself only just got out of a relationship.”

He’d had her looked into? Who did this man think he was? Hannah waited a moment before answering him. Her response needed to be perfect and not the string of profanities she wanted to hurl at him.

“There’s no harm in taking a step back if, perhaps, you feel you two rushed things,” Jonathan continued before she could respond.

“Will and I are happy, sir.” She added the salutation after a beat, hoping it sounded as petulant as it felt. “There was no mistake in our decision.”

“Be that as it may, I can’t have my son risking half his fortune because the girl he once fancied himself in love with decided to glance his way.”

She trained her expression to neutral, though her heart pounded—both because of the delicate situation and the implication that Will was indeed in love with her. Jonathan would not rattle her. She would not give him the satisfaction.

“And if you actually love each other, why not annul the marriage now and give it a go the old-fashioned way? Then get married again with a prenuptial agreement in place. No harm done.”

Hannah swallowed the rage boiling inside her. “I do love your son.”

“And the fact that you could gain a significant manner of wealth if this marriage should go south in a year, a few years, or if an heir were to come of it, had nothing to do with the brash decision to marry him?”

“I didn’t marry Will for his money.” Hannah’s pulse pounded in her head. She’d expected plenty of things from that weekend, but Jonathan’s attempt to overturn the marriage wasn’t one of them. “I was doing just fine on my own.”

“Ah, so ‘just fine’ is now underpaid editor for a no-name magazine that doesn’t even offer health insurance? Interesting.”

Hannah didn’t know if she was more insulted at the dig at her integrity and her livelihood or at the fact that he had figured her out in less than twenty-four hours. “I have loved your son for close to a decade. Three months ago, that love turned romantic. He asked me to marry him. I said yes, but I didn’t want to spend two years of our lives planning a wedding. He agreed. End of story.”

“I’m sure that’s not the end of the story.” His tone was icy and contemptuous. He wasn’t playing polite now. He wanted those papers signed.

“And if I sign the papers?”

“You can date William, if you like.” Jonathan Thorne wasn’t a frivolous man, but his comment held all the attributes of a good shrug.

Hannah realized then that he didn’t care about the aftermath. He wanted his son’s money—his money—handed down and protected, and he wanted to discredit Will. Could this still be about the board position?

“Or go out and find your true love and forget any of this happened,” Jonathan said. “You’ll both be better for it. If anything, I’m sure of that. William is too much heart. He always has been. You and I both know this—that is how he ended up in Iowa, after all.”

She did know that, and it was precisely why she loved him. The world needed more men to lead with their hearts. Hannah stood up, finished with Jonathan and his insinuations and presumptions, and dropped the annulment papers back on his desk. “I know who Will is. Nothing you do is going to make me change my mind about him.”

THE DOOR CREAKED OPEN, and with it came a rush of warmer air from the hallway and Will. Hannah finished her Chaturanga, transitioning into an imperfect Upward-Facing Dog. She smiled at her absentee partner in crime. His eyes were alert with post-run high, but there were bags where there hadn’t been before. A snarky remark about how he’d left her to the wolves died on her lips.

“How was your run?” she asked instead, pushing back into Downward-Facing Dog.

“It ended up being more of an errand. As I was heading out, Dad asked me to pick up some stuff at the farmers market. It’s only about two miles away, down by the beach.” He stripped off his shirt, revealing a nearly flat stomach and speckles of chest hair. Hannah’s insides stirred. Will shirtless wasn’t a new sight, but this was a new Will—a manlier Will, with those defined hip bones sticking out of his too-short running shorts. Her husband was hot.

She stood up from her pose and adjusted her cami, wrapping her arms around her waist to stop from running her hand down Will’s chest. The yoga had cleared her head, but it had also brought on a fabulous or terrible idea. She hadn’t decided until he entered. Jonathan was going to do anything he could to pick apart their relationship. Will had told her as much, but she hadn’t