Page 295 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

With a deep breath, I slid the paperwork from the envelope and lay it face-up on the table.

“She left you her entire estate. The property, house and its contents.”

I peered at the document with my name on the front page. I didn’t want the house or anything inside it. I just wanted to sell everything so I could set myself up properly. Pay off my billion dollars of debt. Okay, a slight exaggeration, but the way those bills hung over my head made it feel like billions.

For me, this was my fresh start. A chance to stand on my own two feet and stop living paycheck to paycheck.

“Where do I sign?” I rummaged through my purse for a pen.

“I tabbed the pages. Take it with you and drop it back to me tomorrow once you’re happy with everything.”

No time like the present. Before Ashton went all lawyer on me, I flipped to the final page and signed and dated where indicated.

The poor guy almost fainted. “Wait! You haven’t read the conditions.”

I shrugged. “Would it make you feel better if I agreed to read them tonight?”

“No, because you already signed it.”

“I’m not going to contest anything. As soon as I put the place up for sale, I’ll be out of here.”

I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

His cell rang, and I’d never been so grateful for the interruption.

He shifted to grab the cell from his pocket, then held it to his ear. “Ashton Cole.”

I pivoted in my seat to give Ashton some privacy while he spoke on the phone. Country rock music played in the background, loud enough to hear, but soft enough to still have a decent conversation. The place wasn’t half bad. Kind of a mix between a bourbon bar in the city but with a small-town vibe. Two patrons sat at the bar, with the rest scattered at the round tables and a handful of booths.

That strange sensation through my middle drew my gaze back to the bar. More accurately, the guy behind it. Dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans, his tall, lean body reached for a bottle of liquor from the highest shelf in a move that stole my breath. With his back to me, I couldn’t see his face, but I didn’t need to. I was too busy checking out all his ink. Dark tattoos covered one arm all the way to his wrist, the ink flexing and coming to life with each movement. The guy had a naturally built body. No bulging veins or crazy, pumped biceps that barely fit beneath his shirt. He had toned muscles strengthened by years of manual labor rather than hours in the gym like most of the guys I knew these days.

Naturally toned physiques had sadly become a thing of the past in the city. This guy was a refreshing change.

As though he sensed me mentally stroking his arms, the guy stilled. His shoulders rose with a deep inhale. His head tilted slightly, and I shifted in my seat, anticipating him turning my way. I bet he was downright gorgeous.

“I’m so sorry,” Ashton said, startling me. He slid out of the booth with his briefcase. “I have to head out.”

I forgot he was even there. “That’s fine.” I gathered my things and joined him to stand.

He shook my hand again. “Promise me you’ll read over the paperwork and call me if you have any questions.”

“I will.”

He turned to leave. “Oh, I almost forgot.” From the briefcase, he fished out a set of keys and handed them to me. “These are yours.”

The second my fingers closed around the keys, Ashton released his grip and left. I stood there for a few more minutes staring at them in my palm. The last time I visited that house I left behind my only regret.

---