Theo
W illow had called me three times since the family dinner a week and a half ago, asking me to visit her at the bakery. She was anxious to talk to me about something , and I’d be lying if I said I was excited about it. There was truly no telling what she wanted.
I’d never realized how hard working there must’ve been.
They were constantly on their feet with a smile on their faces, laughing and chatting with everyone.
Maybe a part of me had missed this small town hospitality.
It was so different from the coldness in the city—there I was just another face, but here, I was someone .
Willow caught my eye and gave me an apologetic smile. She made her way to me, her lip between her teeth. “I’m so sorry,” she rushed out. “I didn’t know we’d get a rush right now. It’s usually not this busy at this time.”
I waved dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t have anything else going on.”
I was anxious to get in my new car and drive with the windows down, but I could do that anytime. Whatever Willow needed to talk to me about was more important.
It was delivered about an hour ago, but it should’ve been here when we first arrived at the house. But it didn’t matter. I had it now, and that was all I cared about.
And I could confidently say I’d never been more excited for anything in my life.
I knew Scout would be excited for it, too.
It stood out and would make us the talk of the town.
If she was nervous about making friends, after everyone saw the car, they’d flock to her.
She’d be the center of attention, have all the friends, be in all the groups she wanted to be in.
Anything she wanted, she could have.
I sat in the back of the bakery for another half hour, sipping an espresso, until the last of the people filtered out. Finally, Gracie and Willow collapsed against the front counter, laughing softly.
“That was wild,” Gracie said, wiping her forehead with the towel that had been tucked in her apron.
Her wild, dark curly hair was piled on top of her head, a light pink strip of fabric tied around it, keeping the shorter hairs out of her face.
Her tanned skin glowed with a fine sheen of sweat, and when she flashed me a smile, her dimples showed.
“We only have a bit before the next rush comes through.” Willow smoothed her hand over her hair as she glanced at me. “You’ll be okay restocking?”
Gracie waved dismissively as she headed to the kitchen. She glanced at me again. Was it weird for her to see me, to see any of my family, with her history with my brother, Adam? Or was it so long ago that she didn’t even think about it?
“Good luck!” she called over her shoulder, then disappeared through the swinging door.
Willow took a deep breath before she faced me. She was pretty—too pretty for my brother. Her dark, wavy hair was braided down her back, and freckles dotted her flushed cheeks and nose. Bright green eyes twinkled as she sank onto the other side of the couch.
“So.” I rested my arm along the back of the sofa. “What’s up?”
A nervous laugh bubbled up from her throat. “Well,” she started, her voice shaky.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” I said gently. “We’re just hanging out.”
She took a deep breath. “Alright. I’m just going to say it.”
I waited as she gathered her thoughts.
“I need your help restoring the lighthouse.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Restoring the lighthouse?”
She nodded. “I think we could restore it to its former glory—no, better than its former glory. It could be amazing.”
“I—I don’t know how to restore a lighthouse, Willow.” Her shoulders fell slightly, but then she shook herself.
“I’ve done a ton of research. I have ideas on how we can fund it—it’ll be a community-driven project, run solely on donations. There are grants from historical preservation groups we could reach out to—they’d totally say yes.”
My lips tightened. I’d never worked on anything like that before. “I’m not sure...”
Disappointment flashed across her face, but it quickly disappeared. “Wait. Just—before you make a decision, let me show you something.”
She held her hands out, as if she could magically glue me to the couch, and ran out of the bakery, her hair flying behind her.
Through the window, I watched as she nearly tripped and fell when she spotted my new car.
She paused for only a moment before she ran to hers, yanking the door open and rummaging around inside.
From this distance, I could see the giant bag of fertilizer, terracotta plants, and white macrame seat covers inside.
She pulled a massive binder out, cradling it in her arms like it was something precious as she scurried across the parking lot. When she got back inside, she was winded, her face was rosy, and a fine sheen of sweat coated her forehead.
Willow sank onto the couch again, breathing heavily as she flipped the binder open. “You okay?” I chuckled, but she ignored me.
“We can have a bachelor raffle,” Willow said, running a shaky finger down the paper. “Or a casino night. Or maybe we could ask Brynne to convince her brother to do a charity concert?” She glanced at me with wide, hopeful eyes. “What do you think?”
“I think we could raise some money,” I said slowly. “But I don’t think we could raise enough to restore the whole thing?—”
“Could you talk to your firm? Maybe they would help, or?—”
“I don’t know.” I flexed my fingers, my eyes glued to the binder. “I’ve never done a restoration before, Willow.”
But after Sean’s fuck-up over the summer, maybe this was the publicity the firm needed. Maybe we could drown out the news about his charges, the accusations, everything, if I could do this. It would be all over the news—big time firm, Spaulding and Parks, restored small town lighthouse.
I’d have another spread in Architectural Digest , maybe even Forbes . Or a million other publications. Maybe then Bruce would promote me to partner…or I could have the reputation to finally open my own firm like I’d always wanted.
“I understand,” she murmured, her voice small and sad. I scrubbed my hand over my jaw.
Fuck it.
What do I have to lose?
It wasn’t like I had any projects right now anyway.
“Okay,” I breathed. “I’ll talk to my boss, alright? And if he says yes?—”
She threw herself at me, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck. I froze, not expecting it, but before she could pull away, I hugged her tightly back. It had been months since a woman had hugged me—not counting my mother or sister.
Not that I was attracted to Willow, but having my future sister-in-law hug me like this made a ball of emotion clog my throat—one I wish I could ignore and pretend was never there. But I felt it. The obvious gaping hole in my life that told me something was missing.
Someone, maybe.
I shoved that thought away and focused on this moment, right now. Willow pulled away, her smile brightening her entire face. “You’ll do it?”
“If Bruce approves it, then yes.”
She made a high-pitched squealing sound. “Oh my god, I have to call Ronan and rub it in his face.”
“Did he think I’d say no?”
Guilt danced across her face as she grinned. “Maybe.”
I didn’t blame him. If I was still in New York, I would’ve definitely said no to this. I would’ve spent my time and resources working on something that would make me millions, not something that would likely only cause me a headache with little to no money.
But this might be the distraction I needed if I was going to spend the next six years in Cedar Ridge. I didn’t have anything else to do—except take care of Scout and try to figure out how to make her tolerate me.
“Yeah, rub it in his face.” I grinned at her. “But don’t get too excited yet, okay? Bruce might say no.”
I didn’t think she was listening to what I was saying anymore. All she heard was “I’ll do it, ” and was too excited to hear anything else. Not that I could blame her.
Her excitement was contagious, and I couldn’t help but laugh with her. Gracie came from the kitchen, a tray of croissants balanced on her fingertips.
“He said yes?” she asked, and Willow leapt from the couch.
“He said yes!”
I laughed with them as I got to my feet. “Are you leaving already?” Gracie asked, her hazel eyes bright.
“I need to pick up Scout.” I slipped the keys from my pocket, and Willow’s eyes widened.
“I should’ve known that was your car out there,” Willow said.
“What car?” Gracie craned her neck to peer out the window. Her face paled when she saw it. “No way.”
“Pretty sweet, huh?”I turned to look out the window to admire the shiny black paint, the way the sun reflected off the tinted windows.
“ No. Way.”
It wasn’t awe in her voice. It was something else I couldn’t quite place. And when I peeked back at her, both of their eyes were wide and their mouths open.
“What?”
“I can’t believe you bought that.” Gracie shook her head slightly.
“It’s a nice car, though,” Willow rushed out. “It’s just not…” They glanced at each other. “You don’t see it in Cedar Ridge often, you know?”
“Or ever,” Gracie mumbled.
“I have to go,” I said, walking toward the door. “It’s not that bad, is it?” I’d never felt unsure of myself before.
“No,” Willow blurted. “It’s great. It’s such a cool car. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“You’ll definitely be the talk of the town,” Gracie added.
“And Scout will love going fast.”
“It’s so shiny, too.”
“Ronan is gonna be so jealous.”
They bounced off each other like ping-pong balls, making my head spin. I waved at them as I slid my sunglasses on and headed toward the car.
It was shiny, and did go fast, and Ronan would be jealous.
And Scout would be impressed.
She had to be.