Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Edgar levered himself out of the armchair. “I’ll be here for Sunday dinner. Tell Savannah to put me at the head of the table near you. I don’t want to get stuck down at the end with that sister of yours. She has a smart mouth.”
I wondered which sister he meant. They all had smart mouths when they got riled up. Even Parker.
Hope just stared at Edgar. “You’re coming to Sunday dinner?”
“Since when do we have Sunday dinner?” I asked. It had been a tradition when I was a kid, but that was a long time ago, and as far as I knew, no one had revived it since Darcy’s death.
“You do now,” Edgar said. “That’s the way it used to be. Sunday dinner at Heartstone Manor. Sometimes the past is best left behind. And sometimes you need to look back and remember what there is worth saving.”
With another harrumph, he crossed the room and closed his hand around Hope’s arm, pulling her into a rough hug. He kissed her cheek and gave her a squeeze before letting go. “I’ll see myself out. Be back on Sunday.”
Hope and I watched him go. “I guess we’re having Sunday dinner,” Hope said. “It’s a good idea. We should have thought of that already. Make it a house rule. Everyone’s here for Sunday dinner.”
“I like it. I forgot about those dinners. I hated them back then. Eating with the grown-ups, Darcy combing my hair, making me wear a tie. Then, when she was gone, I didn’t want to do it without her. Nobody did.”
“Who would have thought Uncle Edgar would be right? Sometimes it is good to look back and remember what’s worth saving.”
We walked down the hall to the entry, Hope probably thinking about what we had to do for the rest of the day and me planning to talk her into a long afternoon nap. The naked kind of nap. My favorite kind.
“So, what’s on next?” I asked innocently.
Hope slanted me a look from beneath her eyelashes. I knew that look. Maybe I wouldn’t have to do much convincing after all.
“I’m feeling a little tired after this morning. So much excitement, you know? I was thinking maybe we could lay down. Together.”
I loved the way her cheeks still turned pink when she thought about sex.
“I like the way you think, Hope Sawyer. You just saved me trying to convince you to throw out your to-do list and let me get you naked.”
She laughed, the sound like bells. “Little did you know. You getting me naked was my to-do list.”
“Even better.” I scooped her into my arms, my heart beating faster at her gasp of surprised pleasure. I strode down the hall, intent on reaching the privacy of our bedroom only to pull up short as Savannah came toward us, her face set, Finn on her heels.
Was I going to have to referee another spat between the two of them? I had much better things to do, namely the woman in my arms.
“You two are going to have to deal with it yourselves,” I said, turning sideways to try to pass them. “We’re busy.”
“No, you’re not,” Finn said. “Hawk called from the gatehouse. We have visitors.”
“Is Edgar gone?” Hope asked as I reluctantly set her on her feet.
“He must have passed them on the road,” Savannah said.
“You’re not going to believe this.” Finn turned to lead us to the front door.
Royal came up behind him, an accordion file folder in hand, and looked between the four of us. “What’s going on?”
“Visitors,” Savannah said grimly and turned on her heel to stride back to the entry hall.
We followed, arriving at the front windows in time to see a classic baby blue Mercedes sedan roll into the courtyard, Hawk’s black armored SUV right on its tail.
The Mercedes came to a stop. The driver’s side door opened and out stepped a young man. Early twenties, he could have been a twin to Sterling or Brax, all shining golden hair and vibrant blue eyes, with a slim athletic build in a perfectly-tailored suit.
He would have looked like a young Greek God if not for the petulant sneer on his face.
The last time I saw him, he was a child, but I recognized him instantly.
“Bryce,” Hope said from beside me.
“Fuck,” Royal swore. “What the hell is he doing here?”
“Hawk tried to bar them from the property,” Savannah said, “but Bryce had a letter from Prentice saying he could stay in the house.”
We watched as Hawk opened the passenger door and reached in to not so gently haul out an older woman with frosted platinum hair and the same bright blue eyes as her son.
“Fuck me,” I said under my breath.
Aunt Ophelia.
Hadn’t Edgar warned us about trouble?
Well, here it was.
And from the looks of it, trouble was planning to move into Heartstone Manor.