Chapter Seventeen
Marlowe
I had to go back home. It was the right thing to do. I shouldn't have left the way I did. That was the coward's way of handling things, and I've come to realize that I'm not a coward.
I wasn't raised this way. I'm Marlowe Evans. My family runs the most affluent law firm in the world. Additionally, my grandfather on my mother's side is an oil baron, so I also come from old money. I have an obligation to my family. It's the least I can do to honor them.
Of course, going back wasn't all hugs and champagne. My dad scolded me and listed all the responsibilities I had to the family now that I'd gotten over my "episode." Well, "episode" is one word to call it.
My mom was more sympathetic, hugging me and brushing my hair back in between telling me it was going to be okay and that I severely needed to see her hairstylist.
I love my parents so much. My dad is robust, and my entire childhood as an only child was transactional. I was prepared, educated, and steered toward sitting at the partners' table of his real pride and joy.
Then I failed my bar exam, and my dad made no provisions for how I was feeling. Just that I would write it again and again until I passed because I'm an Evans, and we Evans don't fail.
And the final instruction: I'd be marrying Tony Merritt, as was always my destiny since he joined my dad's law firm. The Merritts are on par with our rank. The match is one made in heaven. He's not wrong.
What was I thinking? That I could sneak out and everything would be okay? Silly Marlowe.
Anyway.
I turn up the volume of my favorite song, open the window of my rental, and belt out the words.
The air is crisp, and I breathe in a lungful until a wave of exhilaration flows through me.
I don't think I've truly felt this happy in all my life. It's as if everything happened so I could be in this rental on this road.
I glance at my watch. I'm going to make it, but just about if I hurry.
I can't find any parking in front of the quaint little building, so I park the car way down the street and have to run to make it.
Adrenaline has me out of breath, but John, the bailiff, is already there. He gives me a smile and an approving nod before handing me my exam.
I made it.
Candy Creek Citizen Test.
I click my pen and get to earning my place.
I haven't even answered the first question yet when the door swings open, and who other than Sheriff Smith walks in.
My gosh, I missed him.
He comes to a dead halt when he sees me. Shock embellishes his perfect male features, then relief washes over him.
I offer him a smile that seems to shine from my soul and wave my fingers at him before I put my head down and make my own history. The bailiff then steers Zephyr out of the room and closes the door behind him.
It takes me a freaking hour to write the test. Some of the answers are history and fact-based, but most are about the people who are landmarks themselves, the Candy Creek sunrise, and the little quirks I've come to know and love about this town.
I take special care with answering the question about Benjamin Lawrence, the last part in the history book Zephyr gave me, and why he feels comfortable coming into the cottage.
Apparently, Old Man Richards, to whom the cottage belonged before, couldn't get over his twin brother's death. On the night he died, the otter came into his cottage, which is close to the creek, and just sat there.
Old Man Richards decided it was his brother reincarnated and had a law passed with Judge Jenkins' help that Benjamin Lawrence—Old Man Richards' brother's name—be declared a national treasure. And there you have it.
I know I aced the exam as soon as I'm done and put my pen down. I should receive honorary citizenship on top of my honorary citizenship.
My heart beats wildly as Zephyr, clearly standing outside the door and listening in, re-enters the room the instant my chair scrapes back.
He takes the set of papers from me, shoves them into John's hand, pushes John out himself, and kisses me until I'm positively dizzy.
"Marlowe, fuck," he says, his forehead resting against mine. "If you weren't here, I was going to come to the city to bring you back here where you belong—with me."
"I had to go back and do things the proper way.
Sneaking away was the coward's route. I had to tell my parents face-to-face that no, I didn't want to be a lawyer anymore, probably never wanted to from the start, and no, I didn't want to live in the city anymore either when my heart was here.
And I don't ever want to marry Tony Merritt either.
Like ever. And don't worry about Tony and his threats to sue you.
I'm a better lawyer than he is, and I'm not even a lawyer. "
Zephyr laughs, and the sound is so sexy I swear I have an orgasm right there.
"I have other ways I can take care of Merritt," he says, then dismisses him completely when he kisses me again. "I missed you." His rough, gravelly voice is the cherry on top of my mental orgasm.
"I was only gone for sixteen hours, Sheriff," I tease. "Besides, when you told me you loved me, you looked as if you wanted to take it back, so I had to return to tell you there aren't any takebacks with me."
"From the moment I saw you trying to murder an otter, I knew you'd want to go back. Eventually."
"Never. I love you, Zephyr Smith. I love everything about you and your abs.
I love that you know who you are, and there's no pretense.
I love how you know what you want and you take it.
I love how much you love Candy Creek. I love how you do things for me to make it better for me, but you also don't want to tell me you did those things. I love you with my whole heart.
"I love you, Marlowe Evans. Thank you for disrupting my peace."
"Oh boo. You love it. Say it."
"I fucking love you," Zephyr says, his hand gripping my hair tightly, sending shockwaves from my heart to my body, his gaze locked with mine, his words delivered with such clear authority and dominance that my knees weaken. He kisses me again, my body molded to his as if I was meant to be his.
"I don't know what I want to do; I still have to figure that out, but I know I want to be your wife someday, Zephyr Smith. Will you have me?"
He growls and pulls me closer.
"I can't wait to marry you and put my babies inside you—"
"All right, before you two actually start making babies right here in my courtroom, get out," Judge Jenkins says, coming into the room.
We peel apart like guilty teenagers, but then Zephyr takes my hand and drags me along, his impatience to have me clear in the curt way he greets the judge on our way out.
This is my life now, and I wouldn't change it for the world.