Page 33 of Won't Back Down
Because she cared more about experiences than possessions. It was just one of the things I’d always admired about her. “You ready to get rolling?”
“The sooner we go, the sooner we’re done.”
“And the sooner you two can get back to the boning you’d rather be doing,” Bree added.
“Bree!” Willa’s face had turned the color of a grape tomato.
“What? You’re newlyweds. It’s expected.”
Good thing there was a truck between me and the two women to hide my dick’s reaction to that. “Right. Let’s go, Wren.”
With one last hug, Willa climbed into her Jeep, and we started our caravan out to Sutter House. I spent the whole time mentally reciting naval regulations to kill the semi-permanent woody I’d had basically since the moment I said, ‘I do.’ It didn’t work.
What did was the sight of the unfamiliar vehicle waiting in the drive when we got home.
Who the hell was this?
The guy leaning against the bumper of the gray sedan straightened as we slid out of our respective vehicles. “Willa Sutter?”
She frowned. “Yes?”
The guy moved toward her, and I hustled to intercept. Roy was corralled in the house to maximize hauling space, so I was on full guard-dog duty.
“I have a delivery for you.”
Her frown deepened. “What kind of delivery?”
I made it to her side just as he offered her a large manilla envelope. I had a real bad feeling about that envelope, but Willa took it.
“You’ve been served.”
“Son of a bitch.” They’d tracked her down here? At home?
The guy’s eyes widened, and he lifted his hands, backing away. “Just doing my job, man. Sorry about whatever this is.”
I scowled after him until he’d made it back into his car and drove off. She already had the contents pulled out by the time I turned. Over her shoulder, I read the top of the document. Petition for the Adjudication of Incompetence.
The papers shook in her hand, but her voice was steady. “Well, we knew it was coming. I guess now we call Mr. O’Shea.”
I held her hand as she did that right from the middle of the driveway.
“It’s here. No, I haven’t read it yet. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay, we’ll see you then. Thanks, Mr. O’Shea.” She hung up. “He’s going to come out at the end of the day, as soon as he’s done with appointments, so we can talk about all this.”
I stroked a thumb along the skittering pulse in her wrist. “Are you okay?”
She huffed a humorless laugh. “No, not really.”
I couldn’t fathom what she was going through right now. What she must be feeling. What she might be remembering. Because I couldn’t do anything else, I wrapped her tight in my arms. “I won’t let them get to you.”
On a sigh, she burrowed in. “I know. It’s just dragging up a lot of shit.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wished I could take them back. “You don’t have to. You don’t owe me an explanation.” My curiosity about what she’d been through had more to do with exactly how many lifetimes in hell her parents had earned.
For a long moment, she stayed quiet. “I don’t know specifically what they’re claiming, but I suppose you should know at least the basics of what they have to work from. Let’s get Roy and go for a walk. I need to move. The stuff can wait to be unloaded.”
The moment the door opened, Roy bounded out, dancing around her, his whip of a pittie tail wagging a hundred miles per hour. He sniffed her from all sides, then engaged velcro mode, sticking right at her hip as she headed for the stairs that led down to the beach. There were no signs of the horses today. Maybe for the best. I didn’t know how they’d react to the dog.
We strode partway down the empty beach until Willa dropped down on a rise of sand overlooking the water. Roy stretched out along her left leg. I sat on her right and waited.