Free Justice Reborn (Cowboy Justice Association Book 8) by Olivia Jaymes

mess.”
    Papers, a stapler, and a few folders were strewn across the floor where she’d knocked them off their perch on the desk. Evan wasn’t the tidiest of men, although nowhere near his hoarding ancestor.
    “I shouldn’t have left them on the corner like that. Are you sure you’re okay?”
    “I’m fine. Really.”
    They both knelt to retrieve the fallen items but the papers caught Josie’s eye, slowing her down. He stacked everything back on the desk as she sat on the floor, absorbed in the words on the page. Finally she looked up at Evan, shocked at what she’d read. “Did you write this?”
    Evan shifted from one foot to the other, a red tinge on his cheekbones. “Maybe. It depends on what you think of it.”
    “I think it’s great. Really, really good, actually. Is any of it true?”
    She’d only read the one page but it had sucked her right in with the danger and suspense. It was far better than the tattered book she had stuffed in her backpack.
    He reached out his hand and she took it, letting him pull her to her feet. “It’s all true. That’s the case that got me shot the last time and put an end to my career. I did change some names and things to protect identities but for the most part it’s all true.”
    Her mild-mannered employer was kind of a badass and that only made him even sexier. Dammit. Why couldn’t he have written about stealing some kid’s lunch money or kicking little old ladies when they crossed the street?
    “I’d love to read more of it.”
    “Really? I haven’t let anyone look at it yet. I’ve just sort of been messing around with it when I can’t sleep.”
    He slipped the sheet of paper from her fingers and set it on the top of the stack now placed next to his laptop. He appeared nervous but hopeful and not a little shocked that she wanted to read what he’d written, but it wasn’t a surprise to Josie. She was a sucker for a great story.
    “I’m a book nerd and this is good, Evan. Are you thinking about writing a book?”
    He shook his head and snorted as if her suggestion was ludicrous then stopped and sighed. “No. Well…maybe. It’s one of those things, you know. Those things that I’ve always wanted to do but never get to because life gets in the way. Now I don’t really have much of an excuse. It’s actually kind of fun reliving all the crazy things I’ve done.”
    Josie gave him a hopeful look. “So…can I read it then? I already want to know what happens next.”
    His fingers hovered over the stack but then he smiled and chuckled, gathering the papers together and sliding them into a folder. “Only if you really give them a true read and tell me the unvarnished truth. Don’t be sweet and nice like I know you would be. I want a real critique of the story. In other words, give me hell. Do you think you can do that?”
    “In design school we often had to critique each other’s work. I once made someone cry.”
    He held out the folder and she plucked it from his hand before he could change his mind. “You made some poor girl cry? That doesn’t sound like you.”
    “I was doing that poor girl a favor. She was new to that instructor and didn’t realize what a total dickwad he could be to the students. I gave her that critique in private the day before class so she could clean up some of her work. He hated sloppiness and he was going to come down on her like a ton of bricks. Instead of taking it as helpful, she accused me of being jealous and spiteful. She told me I was ugly and stupid and didn’t have a lick of talent. She said I’d be slinging fries for a living while she made the fashion magazines. So I don’t think you need to feel sorry for her. She can handle herself just fine.”
    Just another instructive moment in Josie’s life. Not everyone was going to appreciate a helping hand. More evidence that taking care of oneself was the right path.
    “Whatever happened to her?”
    “The instructor tore her a new asshole in front of the entire