AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You should be happy I think you’re sexy.”
“Vivian.” The things it did to me when he said my name in warning.
“Am I in trouble?” I so hoped I was.
“Getting there.”
I shoved at his shoulder. “Stop distracting me.” His lips found my neck, and I groaned. “I’ve missed your mouth.”
“I’ve missed yours more, Princess.”
I shuddered and struggled to concentrate on what I was supposed to be doing. A green cardboard stub remained in the folder. I reached for it.
“Looks like a parking deck receipt.” I flipped it over, and sure enough it was from a parking garage, the time, date, and amount stamped on the ticket. “Only you would have parking stubs from—” I glanced at the date. “Twenty-five years ago.”
I pressed the ticket into his hand, and he examined it closely. “I suppose I could get rid of this now.”
I lifted my eyes to the ceiling. “You think?”
“If I throw it away, will that prove I’m not a hoarder?” he teased as he got to his feet.
“Can’t hurt.” I slapped the receipt into his palm and watched as his taut ass sauntered out of the closet.
The buzz of the shredder hummed from the other room as I moved to the next file.
“Can we go to New Zealand?” I called.
Strong arms snagged me from behind, hauling me to my feet. “I’ll see if my shark lawyer can get me a waiver to leave the country,” he rasped against my ear.
“They’ll be surprised to see you back at the courthouse again so soon.”
“Not when they see my reason why.”
The situation wasn’t funny, but together we always made the best of everything.
“Did you get the waiting period for a marriage license waived?” I leaned against his solid body and folded my arms over his.
“You know I did.”
“We’re trying to keep you out of jail and you had time to do that?”
He shrugged. “I have my priorities. Besides, I had time on my way to see to Donato earlier.”
I smacked his hand.
And then it hit me like a sledgehammer. I struggled to get loose. “Please tell me you didn’t shred that parking receipt.” I grabbed his biceps and shook.
“No. Just a voided check.”
I pushed past him to the wastebasket under his desk and rifled through it until I found the green stub. I looked at the date again. “This is from the day your father died,” I whispered, holding it out for him.
His teeth ground, a glint in his eyes as he clutched the thick paper. “So? What does this prove?”
“Maybe something?” I said desperately. I drummed my fingers on his desk.
“It’s just from the parking garage where I got my passport that day.” He flicked it toward the trashcan.
I snatched it out as soon as it landed, smoothing it between my palms. “How meticulous of a record keeper is Donato?”
