Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Digging deep for bluster, he points a finger at Chrissy and snarls, “This isn’t over.”
It’s telling that he’s mad at Chrissy and not Lucy, and I wonder if somewhere in his cold, dead, manipulative heart, he did once care for her in the only way he knew how. But she deserves better. She always has, and now she’s beginning to realize it.
Despite Jed’s proclamation to the contrary, this is over. The divorce is final, the properties transferred ownership this morning, and the company paperwork for the new name is filed and approved. He’s done.
My final domino has fallen.
Jed storms out of the courtroom, and chatter begins almost immediately as people give their take on what just happened with the soap-opera-worthy drama that played out in front of a good portion of the city.
Belatedly, Judge Hobner knocks his gavel on the desk again. “Quiet. This isn’t the only courtroom we’ve got in session today.” But he doesn’t seem to be that concerned, because he returns to listening from afar.
Etta’s ready for this. It’s not her first rodeo with town drama, and she knows what to do. “After-party’s at Puss N Boots. You buy a drink and a burger, and the fries are on me,” she calls out. Then she points at Judge Hobner, calling out, “Tom, you come on by and your meal’s on me. Sorry for taking over your courtroom today.”
It’s a prime example of why Etta’s beloved in Cold Springs. Free fries and a chance to gossip? You could sign more than half the town up for that easily. Plus, a little bonus for the judge who got a little RickRolled today by having his domain unexpectedly used as a stage instead of a divorce court.
The crowd begins to disperse, racing to Puss N Boots to get a table most likely, and I stand as Ben comes up to shake my hand. “Good work, young lady.”
“You too, old man. You thinking of taking up real-estate law in your retirement?” I tease, only half-kidding. He did an amazing job pulling together the contract to sell Lucy’s properties to Mom in record time.
“Hell no. That was a onetime deal for a friend.” His smile is warm, not that of a mentor and mentee, but of friendship, and I feel like I passed a final test with him.
“Thanks, then. I promise not to interrupt your Samuel Adams sunset again if I can help it,” I vow, hoping I can keep the promise. “But you keep that mind sharp. You never know when I might need someone to bounce ideas off.”
Chrissy and Oliver are walking to the exit, and she stops to hug me. “Thanks, Wren. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Oliver looks like his flabber’s been gasted, eyes sliding from Chrissy to me and back again. “You? How did you—”
But Chrissy cuts him off. “Come on, Ollie. Champagne’s on me, and fries are on Etta. I wanna get there before they run out of Tayvious’s ketchup. That stuff is delicious.”
She shoos him out the door with her, but he glances back at me, mouthing, “Later?”
Jesse chuckles from beside me. “Fucker don’t give up, does he?”
I look down to discover he’s stretched out, both arms laid over the backrest of the bench, looking comfortable as can be on the hard wood.
“Jealous?” I tease, knowing he is. But also, that he has absolutely nothing to be worried about.
Instead of answering the question, he says, “Hey, did I tell you about that new waitress over at the deli? Her name’s Drew, and she makes the best homemade pickles I’ve ever had in my mouth.” His lips quirk as his dark eyes pin me, daring me to deny that him mentioning another woman bothers me.
I bend down to get right in his face, putting my hand on his chest and digging my nails in ever so slightly. “I don’t share. You’re mine.”
He moves quickly, his hands cupping my face and holding me nose to nose with him. Where I was the one in control, now he is. “Birdie, you’ve been mine long before you even knew it. Had me stalking you all over town for months and threatening to beat the fuck outta anyone who looked at you sideways. And I sure as shit don’t share.”
He kisses me with heat, his tongue slipping in to taste mine.
“Oh! Excuse me,” a voice says.
I jerk, but Jesse takes his time, not done kissing me yet. After a quick succession of smacks, he pulls back with a sexy smirk.
I look behind me to find the court reporter grinning as she gathers her stuff. “Don’t mind me. Just heading out for the day.”
“Us too,” Jesse answers, standing and taking my hand.
As we walk out of the courtroom, I say, “Tell me more about Drew and these pickles.”
He laughs loudly. “She’s sixty if she’s a day, and makes pickles from scratch. Says she’s been doing it since she was a kid, canning cucumbers from her grandma’s garden.”