Sean

Anna sat on the couch in our bedroom, staring out the window while I paced, my phone clutched to my ear. On the other end of the line, Trevor let out a weary breath. “Sean, you don’t understand, this is way over my head. You need to call Scott in the morning.”

“Scott.” I snorted derisively. “I’ve spent all of five minutes with that dude. You told me he was the best family law attorney in Austin. He hasn’t done shit.”

“You don’t know that,” Trevor retorted. “Look, things have changed. From what you just read, Dean’s gone on the offensive. He’s filed a motion to prevent Anna from taking Willow outside of Williamson or Travis County, and he’s joined you in the action. Scott will need to decipher the paperwork. Find out the scope. Let the man do his job.”

I sank onto the couch next to Anna. “Scope? What does that even mean?”

“Ask your girl. She’s got the documents.” Trevor stifled a yawn. “She was a law student; she knows what they mean.”

I cut my gaze to Anna, who’d yet to move. Or speak. She could barely lift her Dr. Pepper can without shaking, so delving into complex legal documents was probably out of the question.

I managed to force out a breath. “Okay, okay.”

“This doesn’t prevent you from doing anything you have to do,” Trevor repeated for the fifth time. “It just means that until Anna and Dean come to terms, she can’t do it with you.”

Thoughts of the tour crept into my mind. Twelve months. Impossible.

I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Which lawyer did she pick? Is he good? He better be fucking good. Because I’m on a deadline.”

Trevor cleared his throat. “Anna said Peyton is handling it.”

Peyton?

Sitting up straight, my gut twisted in a knot. Peyton Hollis wouldn’t piss on me if I were on fire. And for all I knew, she was squarely on Dean’s side.

“I’ve got to go, Trev. Thanks for the help.”

My phone landed with a thud on the table, rousting Anna from her haze. She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm. “What did he say?”

“He said you’d explain it to me.” Bolting to my feet, I resumed my pacing, punishing the carpet with every step. “And while you’re at it, why don’t you tell me why you turned down his help?” Stopping behind her, I gripped the back of the sofa. “This is our daughter we’re talking about, Annabelle. And you’re letting Peyton handle it?”

When Anna slowly raised her head, I expected to see some acknowledgment of her mistake.

Instead, she rose mechanically, fists clenched at her side. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I snatched the summons from the table. “I’m talking about the fact that you let Dean get the upper hand. You should’ve hired one of the attorneys Trevor recommended and filed first.”

Anna pushed me out of the way as she stomped to her suitcase. For a minute I thought she might bolt. But from the look on her face, leaving was the last thing on her mind, at least not until she killed me and figured out where to bury my body.

“What you know about the law would fit in a thimble,” she spat. “Do you want to know why Dean filed?” The papers she’d pulled from her bag crumpled in her balled fist. “Because I filed. And that,” her angry gaze shifted to the summons in my hand, “is Dean’s response. And just so you know, I don’t need your help to figure shit out. Because in my experience, when you give me something, you know what that means?” She tossed the papers at my feet. “Absolutely nothing.”

Anna stormed out of the room, with me on her heels.

“I didn’t know,” I said, my tone gruff with leftover anger. “Anna, listen to me.” I grabbed her arm. “I didn’t know.”

She turned to me, eyes moist but fierce. “Of course you didn’t know. Because you didn’t ask. You just assumed. I’m not hiding anything from you.”

“Anymore?”

The word flew from my lips like a dagger, and fuck if I didn’t want to turn the blade on myself.

“Is that how you see it?” She cocked her head, and when I said nothing, she nodded. “I’m sorry that my divorce is fucking up your plans. But you don’t have to worry. You’ve got a good attorney.” She broke free of my hold and then marched toward the guest room, calling over her shoulder, “Not that you will. I’m sure you’ll have plenty to keep you occupied on your tour.”

In the seconds it took for me to recover from Anna’s blow, she was gone, behind the door of the guest bedroom. Gripping the knob, I pictured Willow, asleep in her bed on the other side.

Fuck.

Resuming my pacing, I burned off the anger and then rapped softly. “You’re not playing fair, Anna-baby. Willow’s in there. We need to talk.”

She pulled the door open, just a crack. “I’m tired. We can talk later.”

I leaned against the frame. “We can’t. I’m leaving in the morning.”

Only half of her beautiful face was visible through the small opening.

But that’s all I needed.

Nudging the bottom of the door with my foot, I said, “You’ll be missing from me.”

A small smile ghosted her lips. “You’re not French.”

Breaching the space, I took her hand and then pulled her into the hallway. “You want me to be French?” I backed her against the wall, anchoring my forehead to hers. “I can be French.”

Her eyes shone like polished emeralds. “What do you want, Sean?”

I kissed her lips. “You.”