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

Zane tried to picture the place, having only seen it on various errands into town. Quirky bar, very touristy, lots of energy. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Raising her hand, Freya motioned that she wanted an invitation.

“Freya wants to come. That cool?”

“Totally. I’ll call Sophie and we’ll make it a thing. I mean, not a double date thing, but, you know.”

“Cool. Hey, is there a barbershop nearby?”

“Yeah, drop into Sal's anytime. He'll fix your ugly mop.”

When they ended the call, Freya was still watching him, her face adorably contorted in smile-meets-grimace. “We’re never going to live this down.”

“Nope. May as well make the most of it,” he shrugged. “Shit, that reminds me. My dad left me a message while I was in the shower. I think he’s trying to schedule something.”

She laughed out loud. “At least I don’t have to pretend to be your wife.”

Shaking his head, he cringed. “Hopefully they’ll stay in Seattle and we can have one dinner with them and that’s it.”

A few hours later, perfect time for a late lunch and to dodge the crowds, they pulled into Ahab’s. “What is this place again?” he asked. Shit, the parking lot was packed. Did this town ever slow down?

Freya slipped her hand into his. He ought to argue, but he couldn’t. Friends held hands. Of course, they probably didn’t get off on the electricity of the simple gesture, but the judge didn’t need to know that. Halting in front of him, she reached up and ruffled her other hand in his hair and grinned, “I'm glad he left the cowlick. Good cut.”

He smiled stupidly, like a pup that had pleased its person.

“Ahab's is a classic. Whaler themed and hokey and relaxed.”

“I’m not having more than one beer.”

She exhaled and nodded dramatically, “I think I learned my lesson. Which I have learned many times in my life, but every so often, you have to mess up again. But this one should cure me for a long, long time.”

As they walked inside, he was immediately struck by the absurd character of the place. Fishing nets, detailed murals of epic whaling scenes, boats hanging from the ceilings. The server twirled to them, “Two?”

He nodded toward Grady and another guy–must be Lincoln–at the far end of the room. He’d seen him in a few photos of Asher’s family back in San Diego, including the very traditionally staged engagement photos of Pippa and Lincoln. Asher had only mentioned the four of them; wonder what happened. A bubbling bundle of energy came up behind them, tearing Freya away.

Jumping up and down, Pippa squealed in one rapid breath, “Congratulations I’m so excited.”

Freya’s eyes went wide, looking at Pippa as if she were nuts. “About?”

Flaring her arms out wide, Pippa cheered, “You got married.”

In a sarcastic sing-song tone, Freya shook her head, “And I’m getting an annulment.”

Scowling, Pippa snorted. “I know. I’m going to keep hoping you change your mind.”

Turning, she nearly bumped into Zane, having already knocked into him in her enthusiasm. “Sorry, Zane. How are you? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I happened to have called Asher on his way here to see how training went, and, well, the rest of us jumped on board for a much-needed relaxing afternoon.”

He nodded, dumbfounded and speechless at the peppiness of Asher’s sister.

They pushed through the crowd and settled at the high-top table in the corner. Pippa slid in next to Lincoln and he pulled her close, whispering something in her ear. Zane snagged one of the seats in the corner, Freya joining him. A moment later, Asher and Sophie came in and took the other seats on the wall-side.

A pitcher of beer appeared on the middle of the table, the server returning with a plate of sliders and another of quesadillas.

Grady started pouring, his face dark like he was debating saying something.

Zane nudged him, “What’s up?”

“Didn’t know if you wanted any updates in public.”

“If you have an update, I want it.”

“Right before I left the office, I confirmed your court date. Not bad, it’s in three weeks.”

Nodding, Zane exhaled with a sigh of… relief. It was definitely relief. Regret wouldn’t make any sense. “Great. We can handle that.” He slid his hand under the table and laced his fingers with Freya.

Her head bobbed with enthusiastic agreement. “That’s not bad.” Beer untouched, no food on her plate, she scooted back in her stool. “I’m going to go wash up. Back in a sec.”

That brightness from this morning had faded. She must be relieved, right? The crowd engulfed her. He gave it a minute. And another. Excusing himself, he made his way through the vacation-buzzed tourists and billiard tables, more high-tops, until he reached the bathrooms.

Waiting outside the door labeled Mermaids, he debated if she was alone in there. Nope. Not going to be the guy that barges in looking for his invalid wife. He felt creepy enough, waiting outside the women’s bathroom in a darkened hallway, tipsy tourists filing in and out.

She’d been so easygoing about this whole thing, hadn’t even railed with one of her furious tirades. When she’d released his hand and retreated so serenely, he knew something was up. Right before he gave up and stormed in anyway, she came out. “Zane,” she gasped as she looked up and saw him waiting.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. This whole thing is so weird.”

A trio of women weaved between them. Once they passed, he said, “Know what you mean.”

Straightening her dress, she sighed, “It seemed so easy, to declare it invalid. No, it wouldn’t have happened if we were in our right minds, but still, I had a great time otherwise.” A guy passed through them and into the Sailor’s room. Once he’d disappeared, she said, “The timing is