Page 63 of Fairy Tale Husband

She clasped her hands together, her fingers unconsciously searching for a wedding band that was forever lost. The minute awareness struck, she dropped her arms to her sides.

“If you’re going to be gone for three days, you’ll need some clothes. Why don’t I help you pack?”

“Thanks,” he said gruffly. “I’d appreciate that. I’d like to speak to the boys first, though.”

It didn’t take long. After explaining to Buster and Chick that he was leaving on a business trip, Jake crossed to the bedroom he shared with his wife and pulled an overnight bag from the closet. Pawing through his dresser, he threw the bare essentials into the case. Wynne went right behind him, removing and folding each item before repackingit.

Finished, he turned and glanced at her. “It’s time.”

Her chin wobbled ever so slightly. “Have a safe trip. I’ll see you in a few days.” She flashed him an anxious look. “Right?”

“Yeah, you’ll see me again.” He picked up his suitcase and took a step toward the door, but found he couldn’t leave her, not like this. His case hit the ground. “Come here.”

She ran into his arms, almost knocking him over. She was steel cloaked in velvet, adelicate beauty built over indomitable strength. The breath shuddered though her as she gathered that strength, slipping her hands across the tense muscles of his chest. Her lips skimmed his cheek like a butterfly, then honed in on his mouth. With a dark groan, he kissed her, pillaging the generous warmth with a desperation she couldn’t mistake. Endless moments later, he set her fromhim.

“I have to go.”

She didn’t speak, simply nodded.

He picked up his bag and this time, made it to the door. At the threshold, he hesitated, his back to her. “Do you trust me, elf?”

“I always have,” came her choked response. “And I always will.”

His voice dropped, sounding raspy and strained. “I’ve never had anyone trust me before.”

He barely caught her answer. “That’s because you’ve never been married to me before.”

His shoulders sagged beneath the burden of her words. “You have no idea the risk you’re taking,” he informed her harshly.

And then he wasgone.

Judge Graydon pounded his gavel, bringing the court to order. Asilence settled over the packed room as everyone eagerly waited for the proceedings to begin.

“I’m afraid we’ve delayed long enough,” the judge said, looking at Wynne. “Have you heard from Jake, yet?”

Reluctantly, she shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

There hadn’t been a word from him, not in all of the five impossibly long days that had passed since he’d left. During that time, she’d build a protective wall around her emotions, allowing nothing to intrude—except for her nephews. All the while she’d clung to her hope and her faith, discovering in the deepest hours of the night that faith and hope made for very cold bedfellows.

The judge sighed. “Then we’ll have to begin without him. To start, Iwant it clearly understood that this is not a legal proceeding.” He glared first at Peter, who sat next to her, then at the dapper lawyer who’d escorted Mrs. Marsh into the courtroom. “We’re just having a nice, friendly discussion in order see if there’s room for a compromise.”

The dapper lawyer popped to his feet. “Larry Livingston, Jr., Your Honor. And I can assure you there isn’t any room at all.”

Graydon pointed his gavel at the man. “Sit down and stay put. I’ll let you know if I’m interested in your opinion. Understood?”

Deflated, the lawyer did as he was told. “Understood, Your Honor.”

“Good. Now I’ve reviewed Mrs. Marsh’s complaints.” The judge’s brows pulled together. “And I don’t think anyone can deny that these incidents she’s detailed actually happened. Heck fire, Jake himself told me about the run-in the boys had with Mad Dog and that rattler.”

Livingston springboarded to his feet again. “Your Honor, Iobject. Your relationship with the defendant is a clear-cut conflict of interest. Irequest—”

“Sit down!” Judge Graydon thundered. “I’ve already told you this is just a friendly little discussion, not a legal proceeding.”

“But, Your Honor—”

Graydon leaned across the bench. “Let me offer you a piece of advice, Mr. Livingston. Since I’m the only judge in town, Isuggest you do your level best not to tick me off. It won’t help your client any. Got it?”

Livingston gulped, subsiding into his chair once more. “Got it, Your Honor.”

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