Forever Dreams (Montana Brides, Book 1)

Chapter Eleven

Trent rolled down the window of his pickup, wishing he was heading anywhere except into downtown Bozeman. He felt like a fool. Or maybe an idiot. Probably both.

He didn't know what had changed Gracie's mind about the no touching clause in their marriage, but he sure liked it. Ever since the Sweet Pea Ball she'd been happy to indulge his addiction to her body. He'd been worried at how easily they'd slipped into the role of husband and wife.

After six weeks of living together, he figured they should be having disagreements; squabbling over what TV channel to watch, whose turn it was to load the dishwasher, or who'd left the toilet seat up for the hundredth time. But that hadn't happened.

He even thought Gracie might have had revenge on her mind for their less than honest wedding ceremony. But that didn't seem to be happening either. They'd fallen into a simple pattern that he looked forward to each day. And each night they'd fallen into other patterns that distracted his mind and turned his body into a quivering wreck. When he made love with Gracie, he felt like he'd run three marathons in a row and still had enough energy left to conquer the world.

Now he had to organize their divorce. He'd made a promise and whether he wanted to be here or not wasn't important. He'd make sure he didn't mess up his last chance to show Gracie he had some scruples running around his half-baked brain.

Parking in front of Osborne and Sons, he stared at the big concrete letters plastered over the entrance. The red-brick building owed a lot of its architecture to the traditional values of the founding families of Bozeman. Solid. Dependable. Safe. Everything he wasn't. He felt like a man staring down the barrel of a gun instead of someone sorting out the mess he'd created.

Pulling himself out of his truck, he jammed his hat on his head. He needed to get this over with before he chickened out and never made it through the front door.

"Can I help you?"

Trent looked at the woman behind the reception desk. With a smattering of freckles sprinkled across her nose, she looked as though she should have been in school and not reigning supreme in a lawyer's office. She'd twisted her dark hair into some kind of knot. Bits of it stuck out all over the place, like a sparrow had been nesting and lost track of what he'd been doing.

She patted her head. "Still not right, huh? I'm trying for the sophisticated executive look, except my dog ran away with my clips. They're probably buried halfway to China by now."

Trent didn't know what he should say, so he took off his hat and waited.

She stood and reached over the counter. "Annie O'Leary, fill-in receptionist and part-time baker."

He squinted at the grinning woman. "Trent McKenzie, ma'am. I've seen you before. You work at Angel Wings Café with Tess."

"That's me. I'm helping out here while Mrs. Daniels is on vacation. Who did you come to see?"

"Adam. Is there more than one lawyer now?"

Annie shook her head. "Only Adam, but there's a chiropractor along the corridor and the Montana Chamber of Commerce are upstairs." She looked at her computer and smiled. "You're on time. Go down the hall and take the second door on the left."

Trent nodded and trudged along the brown carpet. He'd walked down the same corridor for the same reason, fifteen years ago. Last time he didn't have a choice. This time he wanted to turn tail and run. He flicked his knuckles against a wooden door and walked into the room.

Adam looked up from an inch thick block of paper lying in front of him. "Perfect timing. You've saved me from drowning in deposition hearings."

"Don't get too carried away. You're not going to like what I've got to say."