Teresa Hill - Matchmaking by Moonlight

She was really starting to think people didn’t tease the judge.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable,” she said, looking him right in the eye.

He smiled then, a different kind of smile, an I-understand-you-perfectly smile. Then he leaned toward her and whispered, “I think you like it a lot. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the kind of woman who lives to make people uncomfortable.”

Lilah felt a little kick of heat, starting where his warm breath brushed past her ear and slithering through her whole body from head to toe, her senses dancing with delight and that long-dormant hint of sexual interest.

Which honestly freaked Lilah out a bit.

And the judge knew it, damn him. She could tell by the look in his eyes. She’d taken some joy in making him uncomfortable, and he’d very happily done the same to her. Did that mean they were even? That they could stop sparring now?

“I’m … sometimes, I open my mouth and … inappropriate things come out,” she said. “Sorry. People will be keeping their clothes on. For everything except, maybe, the destroy-the-dress part of things.”

“You’re going to destroy dresses?”

He looked genuinely baffled by her. So many people were, and she wasn’t sorry. She liked it. She’d been boring for too long.

“Wedding dresses,” she explained. “As part of the workshop, women will bring their wedding dresses and … do whatever they want with them. Slash them. Burn them. Roll in the grass with them, jump in the creek along the back of the property …”

“While they’re wearing them?” Eleanor asked.

“Yes,” Lilah said softly. “I mean, they’ll start out wearing them. And then they’ll ruin them in any way they want, and … well, I don’t know how much people might have left of their dresses when they’re done. We want them to feel free to be as creative as they like in their destruction of their dresses. I wouldn’t want to stifle any honest expression of emotion. It’s therapeutic.”

“I’m sure,” the judge said.

“It is,” Lilah insisted. “I’m just trying to be completely honest here. I suppose there might be some people who really destroy their dresses and might be left … not wearing a lot afterward. So, if it’s a deal-breaker for you—”

“Wait,” Eleanor said, jumping in. “You two have hardly had a chance to talk, and I’m sure the judge just needs to have a better understanding of the whole concept of your classes. She really is trying to help people, Judge. Lilah’s been a successful therapist for years.”

He cocked his head sideways at that and just stared at Lilah. She let her nose inch a tad higher and tried not to be offended, knowing he thought she was too flaky to be a highly educated woman, although she had to admit the phrase “successful therapist for years” was definitely an exaggeration.

“She has a PhD in psychology,” Eleanor bragged.

“Actually, I have a master’s degree, and I’m working on my PhD. The classes are actually part of the research I plan to do for my dissertation,” she informed him, although it wasn’t something she often mentioned these days unless she was specifically asked about her formal training.

He looked taken aback at that.

Okay, she’d actually been working on her master’s degree for nearly a decade and had barely started her PhD classes on the side as her then-husband had pursued his dream of being a college president and they’d moved three times. All of which meant Lilah had changed schools three times and worked full-time at a number of different college administration jobs, putting aside her own dreams and ambitions for a man who, in the end, couldn’t even be faithful to her and also couldn’t stand the idea of her being more educated and more successful than he was. What a mistake that had been.

“Lilah, darling, didn’t you say you have to be somewhere before six?” Eleanor reminded her.

“Yes, I do.” No more playing with the judge. Not now. “I have a meeting with the printer who’s making my posters for my classes.”

“You and the judge should arrange a time to talk later. You can answer all of his questions, give him a chance to make up his mind about this, once he has all the information. Perhaps … over dinner?”

Eleanor beamed at both of them, looking like a woman who was up to something.

“No?” Eleanor said finally, when neither of them seemed happy about the dinner suggestion. “Lunch? Maybe just … coffee? Lilah, darling, give him your business card and take one of his.”

They both dutifully produced and exchanged business cards, the judge looking highly skeptical.

“She’ll call you,” Eleanor promised, then took the judge by the arm. “Let me show you out. We’re so happy you could come by today. I’m sure a man like you is so busy. I know Wyatt is …”

Lilah watched the two of them go, then turned to look at her cousin’s two partners in crime, Kathleen and Gladdy, both hilarious and outspoken women who seemed to have lived their lives to the fullest. They, too, looked as if they were up to something.

Still, they were just three little old ladies.

How much trouble could they possibly cause?

Ashe went straight from his odd meeting at the Barrington estate to the law offices of his friend and colleague Wyatt Gray, where he barreled in and found Wyatt frowning over paperwork.

“This is a joke, right?” Ashe said.

Wyatt feigned a look of a complete innocent, something the man hadn’t been since grade school at least. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“This favor you asked me to do?” Ashe glared at him. “It’s a joke. It’s some kind of payback. I know it is.”

“Why would I be setting you up for anything?” Wyatt asked.

“I have no idea.”

Okay, maybe Ashe did, because there had been a time when the two men had enjoyed pulling little pranks and generally giving each other a hard time. Like Ashe taking every note Wyatt had on one of his cases from Wyatt’s briefcase, leaving him with nothing but completely blank pages on his legal pad and inside his files. It was something Wyatt hadn’t figured out until he was actually in front of Judge Whittaker, trying to give his opening argument. The look on Wyatt’s face had been priceless.

Or putting red lace panties in his briefcase another time, right before Wyatt was heading to court. He’d nearly choked when he’d opened up the briefcase, again in court in front of the same no-nonsense judge. But still, that was years ago and no proof of any kind had ever been found of Ashe’s guilt in either case. They weren’t kids straight out of law school. They didn’t do this anymore.

Did they?

“You went to Eleanor’s, I suppose?” Wyatt asked. “I told you, she can be a little—”

“Strange?” Ashe said.

“Sometimes.”

“Your in-laws are even stranger,” Ashe insisted.

“They’re an interesting group of women. But they’re not like … dangerous or anything. I mean, they’re all eighty-something—”

“Eighty-something?”

“Yeah. They lie about their ages, all of them. I guess women never really stop. But there are no mental competency issues—”

“What about the one prancing around in the backyard naked?”

Wyatt stopped cold. “Eleanor was dancing naked on the back lawn?”

“No. Not her.”

“Kathleen? Gladdy? There’s a naked octogenarian at Eleanor’s estate?” Wyatt winced.

“No. She wasn’t old. She was young. Twenty-something.”

“And naked? Really? Naked-naked?”

“She was wearing a wedding veil. A long, sheer wedding veil, but other than that, yeah, she was naked.”