“I’ll walk you out,” I say as I keep up with her quickened clip all the way out of the B&B and we pause on the porch.
“What do you want?” Her lips flicker with a smile. “You didn’t need to walk me out, and we both know it.”
My gaze hardens as I look out at the parking lot. “If the case doesn’t go in the direction we’d like, I want you to help me file for divorce.”
“Divorce?” Fiona belts out a laugh that sounds all too genuine.
“Yes, a divorce. The last thing I want is for Lemon to put off one minute of her life because of me.”
“Oh, Essex.” She rolls her eyes. “I take it your wife will be blindsided by this.”
I nod. “I don’t see another way to do it. Should I be found innocent, there’s no need to plow this painful field for nothing. Should I be found guilty, I’ll break it to her upon her first visit.”
“And you see this as merciful?” She offers that sarcastic nod I’ve seen her give a thousand times when dealing with a witness she’s raking over the coals. “You do realize it’s Valentine’s Day, and a divorce is the opposite of what this day stands for—love.”
“It’s the way to love her best. I’m not stealing fifteen years, or one minute, from her life. If I’m found guilty, I expect the divorce to be filed that same day.”
“I’ll have the papers ready. Happy Valentine’s Day, Essex.”
She takes off, and I duck back into the B&B where I find Lemon standing there alone with her arms folded tightly.
“What are you up to, Judge Baxter?” A sly grin glides up one side of her cheek. “Should I be afraid?”
“Fear is exactly what I want to protect you from.”
And that’s why this divorce is necessary if they send me away.
I land a heated kiss to her lips and place my hand over her belly. That baby inside her moves in one large motion, poking and prodding at my hand as if it were anxious to find me, to meet me, and I’d like to believe it is.
Lemon gasps. “I think someone just said Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy.” She bites down on a smile. “Essex Everett Baxter, will you be my Valentine?”
“Every single day, Lemon. I love you deeply. Always know that. Your happiness is my top priority. I wouldn’t dare cause you a moment of pain.”
She gives a knowing nod. “And you won’t.” Her words come out just this side of a threat as she runs her finger down my chest.
I had better not.
“We’re going to get our miracle,” she whispers with her eyes intent over mine. “You aren’t going down for something that I authorized.”
Something that Noah authorized, I’d like to remind her but won’t. I know she doesn’t want the heat to fall on him either.
“Let’s put it all out of our minds.” My finger caresses her cheek. “I believe I have a hot baker to dance with.”
And a bullet to dodge from the Canellis, but I don’t dare bring up that brewing nightmare either.
“Come here, Hot Judge.” Lemon places her hands on the back of my neck and pulls me to her.
My lips find hers, and I kiss her deeply, passionately, as if it were our very last kiss, and every kiss will feel just that way until I hear that jury’s decision.
But the fight isn’t gone from me yet. I’ll fight for Lemon, for our children, to protect her from any more boneheaded moves that Noah might want to drag her into. I want to protect her from the world and all the wickedness in it.
And I want to serve her, too, in and out of every day, in and out of the bedroom. This woman right here has become an altar where I’ve come to worship.
She has made me a believer in love, in marriage, in her, and in us.
“Wow, that was some kiss.” She pulls back with a dazed look in her eyes. “You’re pulling out all the stops. Let’s go get that dance in so we can start the real party. Do you think we can squeeze a hot bath in there somewhere?”
“For you, cupcake, I plan on squeezing in every last bit of this hot night.”
We take off for the conservatory lighter and less burdened than we were once we arrived.
We’re ready to take on the rest of the night.
We’re ready to take on the rest of our lives, the best way possible—together.
Lottie
Valentine’s Day has always been a holiday I’ve approached with mixed emotions. So many romantic expectations. So much effort into making one night shine above the rest, in the name of love. It feels unholy to peg all that perfection on the shoulders of a single day, and I think that’s why so many expectations fall short. But this year, nothing has fallen short for me. Things are looking brighter and far more beautiful than ever before.
Everett takes me by the hand and leads us deep into the conservatory, where the soothing music has bodies rocking in time, and just before I’m about to pull him close, Carlotta and Mayor Nash crop up.
“Congratulations.” Mayor Nash pulls me in. “Now no more crime-solving for you, young lady. The only thing you need to solve is what to name your baby. Got anything special picked out?”
“Not yet,” I say, holding my belly. “I’m still open to all suggestions.”
Carlotta waves me off before patting my belly. “This here is Carlotta Junior.”
“And if it’s a boy?” Everett looks her way.
“Carl works, too.”
We share a quick chuckle as Mom and Wily step up, as do Lainey and her husband Forest.
“Where’s the baby?” I ask with a mild sense of panic as if they could ever forget their sweet peanut.
Lainey looks up at her dapper plus one. “We’re letting Josie have her first sleepover at Grandma’s. Forest’s mother said she was happy to have her.”
He nods down with a lascivious look in his eyes. “Mom and Dad need some uninterrupted alone time.”
Mom coos at the thought, “That’s exactly how second children come to be.”
“Hey lady,” Lainey snips playfully at our mother. “Watch it. We’ve got our hands full. The only newborn around here will be Lottie’s baby.”
“That’s right.” Keelie pops up and pulls me into a warm embrace from behind. “But before that baby is born we need to party!”
Mom moans, “Keelie, you just ruined her baby shower. It was supposed to be a surprise.”
My blonde bestie shakes her head. “I wasn’t talking about a baby shower. I’m talking about a hatchelorette party. It’s sort of like a bachelorette party, but it’s for new moms before they hatch. There are still a ton of things you need to do before the baby gets here, Lottie, and not all of them involve counting diapers. We need to go out and have a no-holds-barred good time. I’m talking booze, boys, and—”
“Banana hammocks!” Carlotta whoops at the thought.
“No, thank you,” I say, leaning against Everett’s strong chest. “I’m taken, and I can’t drink.”
Keelie scoffs my way. “Who said the booze was for you?”
“You can’t stop us, Lot.” Carlotta pulls out her phone. “I’m getting on the horn right now and nailing down the dirty details.”