Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Hard to believe those two were friends, but since Annabelle happened to be the best friend of Echo Hayes—the fiancee of our goalie, Sawyer, they weren’t exactly strangers. The women who put up with us Reapers weren’t only gorgeous and smarter than we were—they were thick as bloody thieves.
“As I was saying,” Gregory brought us back on track. “Mr. MacDhuibh recognizes his fault and is willing to do whatever the court deems necessary to make it right.”
“I will take that into account, Mr. Chastain. Carson, is the city satisfied with reparations in this matter?”
“We are, your honor.”
“We are not!” Annabelle blurted, coming to her feet. Surprisingly dainty feet at that.
“Annabelle!” Carson groaned.
“Judge, if I may?” she asked sweetly, stepping into the aisle.
“Well, it’s not like any of us can stop you, apparently,” Judge Hurston drawled with a long-winded sigh. “Come on up.”
She walked right past us, and I kept my eyes off her arse. Barely.
“Your Honor, this man has no understanding of our community—”
“Objection!” Gregory exclaimed, standing quickly.
“Mr. Chastain, we’re not that formal around here, but go ahead,” Judge Hurston waved him on.
“My client is a homeowner here in Sweet Water. He’s invested in the community—”
“Hardly! He lives in Reaper Village, sure, but invested? Don’t you think that’s a bit of a stretch?” She turned a glare on Gregory that would have made a weaker man’s balls wither.
“I have over nine million dollars invested in Sweet Water Bank and Trust. I’d call that an investment,” I retorted. That wasn’t counting what I had put away in stocks and ventures.
Her jaw dropped, but she quickly recovered. “Money isn’t what I’m talking about, Mr. MacDhuibh.”
I grinned at her spot-on pronunciation. Lass had to have practiced, which meant she’d thought about me when I wasn’t around. Maybe it wasn’t in a favorable light, but I could work with that. “Well, what are you talking about?”
She blinked rapidly and turned an even darker shade of pink.
“While we here in Sweet Water are incredibly proud to be the home of the Reapers, we’d like you to be proud to be a resident of Sweet Water. That’s not about money, Mr. MacDhuibh.”
Connell. Och, I wanted to hear my name on those lips.
“I’m already a proud resident of Sweet Water.”
“How can that be when you don’t know a stitch of our history? You didn’t even know that ostrich racing saved this town during the great depression.”
Surely, I heard that wrong. “You used to race those great big birds?”
“I didn’t, of course. It’s actually rather inhumane, but in the thirties, those ostrich races brought in the only income our little town could count on.” Her fists landed on her hips again. “You can’t make this up to us by replacing what you broke. We don’t want or need your money.”
“Actually—” Carson started.
“Shh,” Annabelle threw her finger out at him without breaking eye contact with me. “What we want—no, what we demand is your respect.”
“I respect you just fine,” I assured her.
“Enough,” Judge Hurston declared, and immediately had our attention. “Ms. Clarke makes a point. Now, don’t get all excited over there, Annabelle, we’re not going to tar and feather him. If you think you can teach him to respect our community, then I’m happy to task you with that.”
“Wait...what?” Annabelle’s hand fluttered to her chest.
“I rule that Connell MacDhuibh pay all costs associated with restoring the…Oliver statue, as well as perform six weeks of community service to be served under your supervision, Ms. Clarke. Put him to work in the clerk’s office or on the reserve project; it’s up to you.” He slammed his gavel. “We’re adjourned.”
He got up and left without any further comments, leaving us all staring at one another with a mix of horror and confusion.
“Community service,” I heard Langley say on her phone as she walked out of the room, no doubt filling Asher Silas—the owner of the Reapers—in on what had just gone down.
“I’ll get the reparations set up,” Gregory said, picking up his briefcase. “Damn small-town judges. I guess the good news is you can knock it out before the season starts, which I’m sure is what Silas is going to demand.”
“Right,” I muttered, trying to understand what the hell just happened.
Gregory and Carson walked out together, leaving Annabelle and me alone.
“Why on earth should I have to supervise you?” She muttered.
I stood slowly, choosing my words with care.
“You know, lass, while I may have imagined you fucking me, I hadn’t exactly imagined you fucking me over.” I adjusted my sleeves again.
“I...I didn’t mean for you to be with me. I have entirely too much to get done to babysit you.” Her chin rose a good two inches as I walked around the table, coming to a stop directly in front of her. Her chin rose even higher, trying to maintain eye contact.