“Agreed,” I say. “No, we have to give him time…and if he doesn’t give in, I’m going to go all full-tilt legal on his ass. Matias Alfaro and I are working on angles.”
“Anything we can do?” Quinn asks.
I shake my head. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”
“Does anyone feel like Weggers is toying with us?” Shane demands. “Like he never had any intention of enforcing the will and he wants to see how far we’ll take this?”
“No,” Preston says. “I’m pretty sure he’s not that clever or that manipulative.”
“He’s definitely manipulative.”
“No. Granddad was manipulative. Weggers is…faithful, obedient, and rule-abiding.”
“He’s basically Granddad’s dog in that scenario,” Shane says.
Preston winces. “Well. Kind of.”
We all ponder that for a moment.
Shane slaps a hand on his knee. “Well, at least tell us about the road trip. Let me get this right. You chased some runaway bride to Sioux Falls and hauled her back here so she wouldn’t fuck up the terms of the will?”
I roll my eyes. “Who’d you hear that version from?”
“Nan at Rush Creek Bakery.”
“Of course you did,” Quinn groans. “And it didn’t occur to you that she might have slightly twisted the story?”
“I like to give people the benefit of the doubt.” Shane crosses his arms. “So if that’s not what happened, what did?”
They all look at me.
“I’m sure she doesn’t want the story repeated…” I say.
Three sets of Hott eyebrows rise, and damn, I’ve only made themmorecurious.
“This much is public knowledge,” Quinn says. “The groom was the runaway. And he happened to have some of the bride’s belongings, important stuff, in his car. She needed to go after him, and Rhys went with her, to see if maybe they’d reconcile?—”
“—and they ended up with this wholeplanes, trains, and automobilesthing—” Preston adds.
“There were no trains,” I correct.
“Still,” Shane says. “You went all the way to Sioux Falls with her. That must have been kind of hellish for you.”
It takes me a second to realize he’s talking to me. “What?”
“You’re, like, the king of divorce, and here you are, trapped in a car with a weepy bride, having to talk her into marrying this guy who ditched her?—”
“It wasn’t like that,” I say sharply. “I wasn’t trapped, and she wasn’t weepy, and in the end, she realized she’d never wanted to marry him in the first place.”
It’s suddenly so quiet we can hear the crackle of the fire, the rhythmic croaking of what has to be a very cold frog, and the occasional hoot of an owl. They’re all staring at me.
“What?” I demand.
“Holy shit,” Shane says slowly, his voice almost a drawl. “Youlikeher.”
I want so badly to tell him he’s being ridiculous…but I can’t bring myself to sell out Eden like that. Because, fuck, Idolike her. A hell of a lot.
“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, I like her.”
