Page 31 of Tangled Hearts

Morris’ head swivels toward Nat, who followed us out the door. “What did you tell him?” He heaves, spit and blood dripping onto the cement. Kaden steps back with a grimace. Wet spots land on my shoes. Fucking disgusting. Morris is so far gone, he doesn’t even notice that he’s lost control of his bodily functions. “Talking about my case outside of the office is going to get you fired. In fact, I’ll go all the way to the bar with this and get your license yanked.”

“Have at it,” Nat snaps. She stomps over to stand at my elbow. “I don’t want this job anyway. It’s soul-sucking because I have to help bottom-feeders like you, and even when I get you the deal of the century that keeps all your secrets tucked in a perfect box, you still act like you’ve been wronged. I’m quitting and going to learn to knit with Dylan.”

Morris’ face freezes, and then a weak laugh escapes him. “Knitting? You knit?” Morris spits more blood onto the sidewalk. “You’re sleeping with this dickless wonder? A guy who knits?”

“This guy who knits just wiped the floor with your face, so what does that say about you?” I tuck Nat under my arm. “Ready?”

She nods, touching my cheek lightly. I try not to wince. “He got you good here.” She rises on her tiptoes to give me a feathery kiss.

“I had to let him have one punch, Nat. Rules of engagement and all that.”

“I know. You have to act in self-defense or you’re the one with the assault record.”

“Yeah, although it wouldn’t matter. I don’t think anyone in the knitting circle would hold it against me. They’d be more offended if I stood by and did nothing.”

“I’m calling the police,” Morris shouts as we turn away.

“You do that,” I call over my shoulder. I rattle off my address. “Send them over. I’ll be happy to talk to them.”

“You’re not even a man.” Morris tries one more time to needle me.

Maybe I’d care more if an insult like that came from Nat, but she’s snugged up against my body, her face shining with happiness, and so Morris’ diatribe rolls off my back like water off an otter’s fur.

“You’re my man,” she says as we walk toward my car. “And I mean that in every sense of the word because I’m going to quit, which means I need someone to support me.”

“I’m your man,” I affirm. “My life’s goal is to take care of you, and I’m glad you’re going to allow me to do it.”

“It’s not easy for me to let go,” she admits.

“It never is, but I’m here to catch you. Always and forever.”

Epilogue

NATALIE

Ican’t help the pride I feel typing the words‘The end’on the final page. It’s about more than finishing my first book. It’s about choosing what I want and leading the life I have always wanted but was too scared to go after or let myself dream about.

If you let the fears control you, you’ll never find what your heart wants and needs. My husband not only taught me that, but he showed me too. I couldn’t have done any of this without his love and support.

The day I quit the firm, I started living for me and my own choices, Dylan by my side every step of the way. Those first steps might have been straight to the courthouse. Not to deal with Morris; the trash ended up taking itself out when he’d partied too hard a few days later. No, we’d gone to sayI do. Everything with Dylan and me was quick, and neither of us wanted to slow down. I used to read love stories about love at first sight, but I thought it was all just in romance books. Until I met Dylan, and that little phrasewhen you know, you knowrang true almost instantly.

“Babe,” Dylan calls out. I hear his steps quickly coming down the hallway. I close my laptop.

“I finished,” I tell him when he enters the home office he made for me. It was a surprise I had gotten when we returned from our honeymoon. Two of the walls are covered in white, custom bookshelves from floor to ceiling.

All the books that I once had stored away in my tiny apartment are now on full display, but one of the things I love most about the room is the reading nook in the bay window. It's big enough for us both to stretch out on. Me on one side, and Dylan on the other. I’ll read, sometimes out loud for us both while he knits away.

“I knew you would.” He comes over to me, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Does that mean I can read it now?”

"I was considering reading it aloud to you."

“Our next read.”

“Yes, and then I could make small changes if need be, or you could help me talk through something if it’s snagging me up.”

“Sounds perfect.” He kisses me again. “You got a delivery.” Dylan holds up the box in his hands.

“I have a delivery?” I laugh. “You’re the one with a shopping addiction.”

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