Mr Justice

by Piper Sullivan

  Mr Justice

  A Second Chance Romance

  Piper Sullivan

  Copyright © 2019 by Piper Sullivan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Also by Piper Sullivan

  Mr. Cop: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

  Mr. Medic: A Roommate Hero Romance

  Mr. Savior: A Roommate Hero Romance

  Accidentally Hitched: An Accidental Marriage Romance

  Accidentally Wed: An Accidental Marriage Romance

  Accidentally Bound: An Accidental Marriage Romance

  Accidentally Wifed: An Accidental Marriage Romance

  His Takeover: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Boardroom Games Book 1)

  Sinful Takeover: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Boardroom Games Book 2)

  Naughty Takeover: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Boardroom Games 3)

  Cowboy's Fake Fiancée: A Single Dad & A Virgin Romance

  Cowboy's Barmaid: A Small Town Military Romance

  Let's Pretend : A Fake Fiancée Romance

  I’ll Pretend : A Fake Fiancée Romance

  Boxsets & Collections

  Kiss Me, Love Me: An Alpha Male Romance Boxset

  Accidentally On Purpose:An Accidental Marriage Boxset

  Nanny Down Under: A Single Dad & Nanny Box Set

  The Takeover Boxset:An Enemies to Lovers Complete Series

  It's Only Pretend: A Single Dad Boxset

  Contents

  1. Walker

  2. Audrey

  3. Walker

  4. Audrey

  5. Walker

  6. Audrey

  7. Walker

  8. Audrey

  9. Walker

  10. Audrey

  11. Walker

  12. Audrey

  13. Walker

  14. Audrey

  15. Walker

  16. Audrey

  17. Walker

  18. Audrey

  19. Walker

  20. Audrey

  21. Walker

  22. Audrey

  23. Walker

  24. Audrey

  25. Walker

  26. Audrey

  27. Walker

  28. Audrey

  29. Walker

  Preview: Mr. Savior

  1. Nina

  2. Preston

  Also by Piper Sullivan

  About the Author

  Walker

  “We the jury find the defendant Percy Hall guilty.” My shoulders sank in relief the moment the jury forewoman read the verdict. Hall was as guilty as they came but domestic abuse cases were the hardest to prosecute due to reluctant victims and determined abusers. Thankfully today had turned out as it should. Justice had prevailed.

  My own gaze swept the courtroom, noting the sad almost-longing look on Percy’s wife’s face. I shook my head, knowing Sheila would be the first in line on visiting day and she’d pick him up in two hundred days when his sentence had been served. I shook it off, knowing there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about that. Abusers and victims, it was a vicious and disgusting cycle that I didn’t want to think too hard about.

  “Guilty,” I said to my assistant, a recent grad who was still contemplating law school. “Fucking guilty.”

  Charlie grinned and clapped my shoulder. “Those photos sealed the deal, man. It was like watching an artist,” he said with a disbelieving smile.

  “If I’m really an artist, we won’t be back here next year on the same charge. Or a more serious one.” Sheila Hall wouldn’t be the first woman to die on my watch. I just hoped she was the first to break the cycle. Anyway. “Good work, Charlie. Take a long lunch and I’ll see you at two-thirty.”

  He nodded as we made our way down the stone staircase that led to the main courthouse exit. Charlie turned right to go wherever he went when he wasn’t at work with me. I went left, towards Big Mama’s Diner and her midweek lunch special—chicken fried steak. My favorite.

  The diner was mostly empty this time of day—the lunch rush long gone and the early dinner rush still a couple hours away—so I felt no guilt about stealing a booth to go over case files for the next trial. Another man who couldn’t keep his damn hands to himself and another woman too terrified to leave him. It was the curse of small towns; there wasn’t a lot of crime but all of it was personal. Up close and personal kind of personal—husbands and wives, families and friends doing horrible, unspeakable things to one another.

  Maybe that was why I’d felt so restless lately, so out of sorts and generally unhappy with the way my life was going. I couldn’t exactly explain it and I wasn’t the kind of guy to look too deep into these things, but it was becoming a problem.

  The bell above the entrance chimed, signaling another customer—bringing the total up to three. I didn’t need to look up to know who’d just come in with that frisson of frantic energy following them. Audrey Pearce. Foster sister to my best friend Will, Audrey strolled in looking wholly comfortable in her own skin. Long, waist-length jet black hair fell in soft natural waves around her, nearly hiding what I now knew was an incredible ass and long shapely legs. She didn’t turn but if she had, I knew she’d have eerie violet eyes that gave her an otherworldly appearance. Audrey wore her standard uniform of jeans and a plain T-shirt that hugged extraordinary breasts.

  It was that damn uniform that brought me back to reality. There were plenty of reasons Audrey was a bad idea—legitimate reasons. Life-threatening reasons that had the potential to blow up my friendship with Will, so I thought of all the reasons she was wrong for me, starting with her damn clothes.

  Must be sophisticated in dress and demeanor.

  It sounded archaic, I knew that, but it was a matter of self-preservation. The next woman, if there was one, in my life would be a woman with whom I could commit. Shared values and beliefs, including her style of dress, would ensure a long-term and happy union. And while Audrey ticked plenty of boxes, I had to focus on the un-ticked ones if I wanted to keep my wits about me. She was a successful illustrator but that wasn’t a real career, not like an attorney or a doctor, which was yet another strike against her. She was beautiful, undoubtedly so, but many women were and that was easy enough to ignore. Luckily there was always one rule guaranteed to eliminate her.

  Must be more than five years younger or older than me.

  At twenty-five, she was twice that, but apparently knowing that didn’t stop my gaze from wandering all over her body, feasting on her. To Audrey’s credit, she didn’t turn, not once, and it was just the excuse I needed to get back to work. Audrey wasn’t what was important, not now, but guilt niggled.

  A shadow fell over the table and I assumed it was Hope with my food, but it wasn’t. “Janey,” I practically groaned. I liked Janey, grew up with her and knew her well, but the last time she showed up wearing that girl next door smile, she’d gotten me to agree to be a damn Hometown Hero, which had become a worse and worse headache with every passing month.

  “Nice to see you too, Walker. Mind if I join you?” She didn’t wait for my answer before sliding across from me.

  “Just keep your hands away from my food. When it arrives,” I corrected at her sly glance to the papers scattered around the table. “What brings you by?”

  “Spring Fling dance, baby. You’ve been nominated to be Mr. Spring Fling,” she said easily as if I knew what the hell she was talking about.

  “Nominated? By whom and when, because this is the first I’m hearing of it.” Then again, plenty of things happened in town without my knowledge.

  Janey shrugged, he
r green eyes working hard to look nothing but innocent. I didn’t buy that for a minute. “The other Hometown Heroes nominated you last week.”

  I bit back a curse because of course I’d done it to my damn self. “When?” I asked even though I didn’t need to.

  “At the last meeting, of course. The one you were too busy to attend.”

  “But I wasn’t ... oh,” I said. “Fine. What do I have to do?”

  That question perked her right up. “It’s easy. I promise. As Mr. Spring Fling, you will need to prepare a few opening remarks for the dance. You and your date will begin the evening with the first dance and then you’ll announce and crown the Spring Fling Princess & Prince.”

  God that sounded exhausting. Why not open up a vein too? “Is that all?”

  Janey flashed another of her good-girl grins that did fuck all to reduce my frustration. “Not unless I can convince you to create a signature cocktail or dessert to sell at the dance. It’s for charity,” she added hopefully. “Didn’t think so.” Her shoulders sank. “Fine, that’s it. Just bring a date.”

  A date. I hadn’t been on a date in nearly a year and I hadn’t been with a woman for even longer than that. “Wait, what? Why do I need to bring a date?”

  It was too late for answers though, because Janey was on her feet and zipping through the diner like she was on fire. When I looked to the counter, Audrey was already gone.

  It was just as well, I supposed. I had no business thinking about her, fantasizing about her. Or about what we’d done together thirteen months ago.

  Audrey

  Standing in the middle of my kitchen with a bag full of food from Big Mama’s Diner, I felt like I’d spent the past hour dodging minefields. In reality, I’d spent the past twenty minutes walking to get enough fried chicken to last until lunch tomorrow before returning home. Still, I took a deep breath and set the bag down before firing up my laptop because when you worked for yourself, there was no day off. Not really.

  After putting three pieces of chicken on a plate, I moved the container filled with salad, dressing on the side, beside it to ease my guilt. Not that I felt any actual guilt. I didn’t. I ate mostly healthy. I even bought a treadmill and weights after returning to Tulip a few months ago. One of these days, I’d get around to using them.

  For now, there was chicken and salad. And work. As an illustrator, and a young one at that, most of my work was children’s books, which I didn’t mind. The work was easy and it paid well, not to mention there seemed to be no shortage of it for me. It wasn’t the kind of work I dreamt of doing when I was a nerdy little introvert dreaming of stories I could tell with paper and a pencil. But it was work and that was the important thing—at least that was what I kept telling myself as a newly self-employed woman. I ate and looked at the pages my latest author had sent, along with notes with ideas for images and the characters. There were always ideas and I’d learned how to handle them without losing my shit.

  The job was quick and easy since the client was explicit that she didn’t want complicated or detailed drawings and that was exactly why I’d taken it. Quick and easy work was still work, and work was the perfect way to keep busy. I needed to keep busy. Being back in Tulip was hard. Not only was it boring as hell compared to the last six months of my life, which mostly consisted of exotic takeout with a few other artists and gamers, but everything was slower by comparison. Slow was what I’d loved about Tulip when I’d landed on Mom’s door at the ripe old age of nine with a chip on my shoulder the size of Texas. It was what I still loved about the town, but after six long months in New York, slow required an adjustment period.

  So, I was coping.

  Mostly. It might help if I didn’t have to see Walker Reid every damn place I went in town. Did the man ever spend any time at home or in his office? Each and every time I left my house, Walker was already at my destination or came soon after my arrival. It was damned annoying, more so because I was dead-ass certain it wasn’t on purpose. I hadn’t noticed him until Janey’s voice sounded in the mostly empty diner and then I kept my back to him, refusing to give him another damn thought. “Dammit, not again!”

  No more Walker talk, I told myself and gave my attention back to the screen in front of me. Work was safe and free of all thoughts and memories of he who shall not be named.

  “How did I know you’d be neck deep in work?” The sound of my mom’s voice startled me, mostly because it was alarmingly close.

  “Don’t sneak up on me! How many times, Mom?” At least a million since she took me in, yet she always moved with the stealth of a ninja.

  She flashed a soft, maternal smile and always had a way of infusing my bones with warmth. Helen Landon wasn’t just a saint for taking in me and Will, but she was a vibrant sixty-year-old with shoulder-length silver hair, bright blue eyes, and skin as smooth as a thirty-year-old. “Maybe if you weren’t so wrapped up in your work, you might’ve heard me.”

  “Cut the crap, Mom. You’re getting even better at moving around silently in your old age but your innocent look could use some work.” She blinked blue eyes down at me until she’d nearly gotten innocent on the nose.

  “Old age? I’ll show you old age, little girl.” Instead of showing me anything, she looked at the plates beside me, the laptop, and the giant bottle of water, then shook her head. “How are ... things?”

  “Fine. Great. What brings you by?” She already had stopped by a thousand times a day since I came back but today’s visit was different.

  “Nothing. Can’t a mother just stop by to make sure her child is eating, breathing, and all that?”

  “Yeah but a mother could call to find that out.” She was trying too hard to look nonchalant. “Mom, what is it?”

  “Do you remember Ray Morris?”

  Of course I did. Part popular kid and part bully, Ray made sure there was never any doubt what he thought of my “weird” style and my “obsession” with comic books. They were graphic novels and that was just the first in a long list of things I loathed about him. Ray Morris the man was probably worse than the boy. “I do.”

  “He’s in town for a couple weeks to help Raylene move into one of those new condos on the old Peplum Ranch. She’s downsizing because none of the kids ever come visit and she’s wondering if she’ll ever have grandchildren to spoil. Ungrateful children.” She muttered the last part to herself before turning her gaze back to me. “Anyway, I thought maybe you two could get together and catch up.”

  “No thanks. There’s nothing for me and Ray to catch up on, Mom.”

  “But he’s such a good-looking boy and he’s an accountant,” she said, like either of those things were selling points. “Just think about it.”

  “No. I have no interest in knowing Ray Morris. None.”

  She sighed, ready to present another argument before she froze. “Audrey, you have to date ... unless, did something happen to you?” She worried that bottom lip the same way she had when I left for art school, trying to be strong when she wanted to cry. “You can tell me.”

  I didn’t know what I’d done to get so lucky in the second-mom department, but I lucked out with mine. “Nothing happened, Mom. Not like you’re thinking anyway. I’m just focused on my career right now.” My last mistake, I decided, would be my last for a good long while.

  “Still, whatever it is, you can talk to me about it.”

  I nodded, wishing I could. But I couldn’t tell her that I’d run into Walker and one drink turned into three at the bar, and then a fourth up in my room. I couldn’t tell her that he’d pleased my body better than any other man I’d ever been with, ruined me, and then ghosted me. “If I need to, I will. Okay?”

  She nodded, brow furrowed, deep in thought. “But you plan to focus on your career instead of dating? You’re already successful at work,” she insisted.

  “Mom, it’s just me for now so I have to focus on gaining clients and repeat business. That has to be my focus.” It was another reason I’d decided to come back to Tul
ip. I knew all the men here and they would offer no distractions from my goals.

  “But what about falling in love and having a family?” Despite her nontraditional upbringing and life, Mom was a sucker for tradition.

  “I have you and Will—you two keep me plenty busy.”

  “That’s not the same and you know it, but I do expect you and your brother at dinner this Sunday. And the next, now that I have you both back at home.”

  “I’ll never say no to your cooking so you can count me in.” Other than Mom and sometimes Hope or Will, I hadn’t spent time with anyone else since coming back home.

  “Good. Make sure you eat the whole salad since clearly you’re not eating like a woman on the prowl.”

  “The prowl, Mom, really?” I covered my ears and shut my eyes while she howled with laughter. “I’m eating like a woman who requires energy to work, not sit around and look pretty all day.”

  “But you’re so beautiful,” she insisted and stroked my hair. “More beautiful than I’ve ever seen you look. Imagine how gorgeous you’d look if you dressed up a little.”

  There it was. I smiled at her soft manipulation. “Dress up to sit at home in front of a computer? That’s hardly practical. Or efficient.”

  She laughed and pulled me in for a hug. “What was I thinking? My girl, always so pragmatic and logical. One day I hope you meet a man who makes you throw caution to the wind. Just once.” She sighed and her eyes took on a faraway look.