Chapter 25
Los Angeles, California
Leo sat on his back patio, the evening sun already behind the horizon, the expensive landscaping lights coming to life and
casting the crystal-clear pool in a soft glow. He could go for a swim right now, even though the temperature was in the low
seventies outside. Because, of course, hedge fund manager Leonardo Brewster had a heated pool.
Instead he yanked at his tie and stared at the water, his high-end suit jacket unbuttoned. Not the one he wore in Pecan Corner,
but one from his extensive closet, where there wasn’t a single rock concert T-shirt or sports jersey. He was back at work—had
been since he’d left Pecan Corner. He landed the Arcadia account with ease, and just as easily slipped back into his usual
routine—working too many hours and spending the rest of the time alone.
A soft, warm breeze fluttered the palm trees on his property. The lights of LA were in the distance. The faint scent of ocean
salt hung in the air. This was where he belonged. Not in cramped Pecan Corner. Not running an old bookshop. Not in love with—
He stood and whipped off his jacket and headed back into the house, leaving the patio door open. He refused to think about
her. To feel anything for her. The living area was huge and open and decorated in all white and gray with black accents. No
color. No life. But it was what he’d always wanted. What he’d worked so hard to attain. Life was back to normal, as if the
last month had never happened. Except for one change. He had scheduled LASIK surgery for next week. He was done wearing glasses.
Deciding to go for a swim after all, he headed to his spacious bedroom, shucked off all his clothes, and yanked on his swim
trunks. Grabbing a towel from the closet, he walked back to the pool and was just about to jump in when the doorbell rang.
He paused. He wasn’t expecting anyone. The last thing he wanted to do was entertain. But after the third ring he decided to
answer it. Maybe someone was lost. He stopped in front of the doorway and looked at the door camera. No one was there. Odd.
Leo returned to the pool area and jumped at the sight of someone standing there.
“Sorry!” she said.
He froze. Via. Despite everything he tried to do to stop it, an electric shiver raced down his spine.
“Hi.” Her voice was small, and she was overdressed for LA winter in her polka-dotted coat and teal and pink beanie. Like she
had come straight from the airport. She looked incredible.
He fought for control, to stop the wave of emotions threatening to drown him. Attraction. Longing. Betrayal. “You’ve got five minutes,” he said.
“Leo, I . . .” She drew in a deep breath. “Constance came by the café yesterday.”
His jaw clenched. Now that she was the new owner of Second Chapter, he shouldn’t be surprised. She’d want to investigate the property herself, to make sure she squeezed out every dime that she could.
Via opened her bag and pulled out a leather-bound book. “She brought me this.”
He stiffened. Earl’s journal. He’d left that behind too, not wanting a single reminder of Pecan Corner. “How—” His voice cracked.
He cleared it. “How did she get her hands on that?”
“One of the movers gave it to her. She read it, Leo.” Via’s eyes shined with tears. “Your mother is selling Second Chapter
to me for one dollar.”
His heartbeat accelerated. Via got Second Chapter after all. When he left Pecan Corner after he found out about her keeping
Percival’s offer from him, he didn’t care about Earl’s will. She’d destroyed all the plans for a future with him and Second
Chapter. Constance could have it. But for some bizarre reason, she was selling it to Via. Doing what Earl had wanted. That
didn’t sound like the mother he knew. “You flew all the way here to tell me this?”
She took another step toward him, then glanced at his bare chest, her eyes widening. “Could you just slip on a shirt, please?”
“Two minutes, Via. Two minutes left.”
“Okay, okay. I read his journal too. I found out things I’d never known about his life. His family.”
Family. Earl’s family—his family—was pathetic. “What’s your point?”
“I’m not the one who should own Second Chapter.” She held out his journal to him. “Earl’s legacy belongs to you.”
Via was shaking in the fleece-lined boots she had no business wearing in this LA heat.
But that wasn’t what was making her sweat.
He wasn’t looking at her coldly. She’d seen him freeze her out before, and she could handle it.
It was the pain in his eyes that had her own heart breaking.
He was fighting not to show it, but she could tell he was hurting.
Hurt she’d caused by her own foolish decision not to trust him.
He looked at the journal. “You can keep it.”
“But Leo—”
“Is that all?”
She couldn’t fight the ache in her chest from missing him—pain that was growing stronger now that she was inches away and
dying to touch him but didn’t have the right to. “I shouldn’t have kept Percival’s offer from you.” She almost launched into
a litany of excuses about her trust issues. But she didn’t. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I should
have trusted you.”
Leo’s pulse hammered as his insides quaked. She was apologizing, acknowledging her mistakes, and he believed her. It should
be enough. He should tell her it was okay, that he forgave her. But he couldn’t. “I trusted you. I told you things about myself
I’d never admitted to anyone. I—” He almost told her he loved her. Still did, despite what happened. And that was why he wouldn’t
tell her. He’d been through enough pain, enough rejection in his life. Her not trusting him had been the biggest rejection
of all. He’d spent his entire life trying to be enough for someone else. He couldn’t do it anymore.
And even though he thought all those things, he took a tiny step toward her, his arms yearning to hold her, to feel her against him.
The movement was so small, he was sure she didn’t see him do it.
But he knew, and he had to end it now, for good.
“You can see yourself out.” He walked past her to the edge of the pool.
Heard her sniff. Sensed her wiping her eyes.
“I found your letter.”
He halted. He still wasn’t sure why he’d written to his uncle, but when he finished it, he finally felt a tangible connection
to him. He’d never expected anyone else to read it, especially Via. He turned and faced her.
“It was sticking out of the corner of the journal,” she said. “I doubt Constance saw it.”
He didn’t care if she did or not. His mother had no influence on his life.
She went to him. Her cheeks were dry now, although her eyes were puffy from crying. “I let my issues ruin what we had. I know
that. I own it. You’re a good man, Leonardo Brewster. A trustworthy, honorable, wonderful man.”
His heart hitched. “Via—”
“And . . .” More tears filled her eyes. “I love you too.”
Via couldn’t move. Even the tears pooling in her eyes were still as she waited for his response. She’d spent weeks trying
not to fall in love with this wonderful man, only to completely surrender her heart to him. She hadn’t planned on telling
him she loved him. It might be the last thing he wanted to hear from her. But he had to know the truth.
He didn’t respond. Only held her gaze, the emotion in his eyes moving from hurt to surprise to something that made her heart
sing. Then she was in his arms, his forehead pressing into her shoulder. She tilted her face to press her cheek to his, soaking
in his familiar honey-leather scent.
Suddenly her cheeks were wet. She pulled away to wipe at her tears but felt nothing. She wasn’t crying.
He was.
He cradled her face, his loving gaze almost her undoing. As if he were unsure, he pressed a featherlight kiss on her mouth,
only for it to turn more intense, reaching deep into her soul.
Still holding her, he said, “I shouldn’t have left the way I did.”
“And I should have told you about the offer—”
He put his fingertip over her lips. “We both have things to work through. I’m willing to do it together if you are.”
She nodded, then leaned her head on his shoulder. It was a little weird—he was shirtless and she had her winter coat on—but
he didn’t seem to mind, and she certainly wouldn’t complain. Then she looked at him again. “What about Second Chapter? Pecan
Corner?”
“You read my letter.” He touched the little dangling kitty-cat earring in her left earlobe. “I’m all in. I didn’t know how
cold and stark my existence was until I met you. How starved I was for love . . . for you . . .” His voice cracked with emotion.
“Until I almost lost you.” His arms tightened around her. “You’ve brought so much color, light, and warmth to my life. I love
you so much. I don’t want to lose you again.”
“You won’t.” Her eyes held his, her heart soaring. “I love you, Harvard Boy. From the bottom of my soul, I always will.”
His mouth tenderly brushed hers. “Smitten Kitten,” he said, his voice almost a purr.
They kissed again, her fingertips playing with his hair, then moving to the smooth skin of his shoulders. When they parted,
she whispered, “You should probably put a shirt on.”
He chuckled. “Later.” And kissed her again.
Leo pulled his Turismo into the small parking lot of Pecan Corner Cottages, the bed-and-breakfast where Constance was staying.
It had been nearly a week since he and Via reconciled, and she’d gone back to Pecan Corner the next day.
He had arrived today and rented one of the cottages for a week while he found out where Earl’s things were so he could move them back into his apartment.
Hopefully Constance hadn’t gotten rid of it all.
He was surprised when Via told her she was still in Pecan Corner. He’d also been resistant to her suggestion that he meet
with her. “You don’t need to work everything out in one day,” Via said when they talked on the phone the night before. He’d stopped at a motel in Nebraska and had made sure to eat plenty
of food and drink enough water. “But you should at least try to have a conversation.”