Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Before I can get my key in the lock, the penthouse door flies open.
I look up and into the eyes of the man I love.
A smile doesn’t greet me, though. Jameson’s expression is stoic. I can’t say I’m surprised. His trip to East Hampton must have been tough.
“You’re home already,” I state the obvious.
He grabs the shopping bag from my grasp as he steps aside to grant me entry. “We got back about an hour ago.”
“I had lunch with Arietta,” I say as I tug the strap of my cross body bag over my head. “Then I sat in the park and talked to someone about a book I’m working on.”
“A book about my grandmother.”
My hands shake as I place the bag on the floor beside my feet. “What?”
“You’re writing a book about Denia.” He tosses his head back to let out a heavy exhale. “That’s what you’ve been busy working on, isn’t it?”
Unsure of why I feel a wave of guilt envelop me, I nod. “Yes.”
“You spent an entire weekend with her in East Hampton less than two months ago, Sin.” His voice quivers. “Mrs. Frye told me you were taking notes about Denia’s life. You listened to my grandmother tell you about her life so you could write a book about her.”
That weekend was a gift to me. Not only did I spend it with Jameson’s grandmother, but I walked along the beach and closed my eyes so I could remember the summer nights Jameson and I spent there together when we were teenagers.
I still remember how he looked as he sat across from me near the fire pit as the stars lit the sky and the flames showcased the sharp cut of his jaw and the way his hair skimmed over his forehead.
If I hadn’t been in love with him before that, I fell hard and fast that night.
“Do you know why she was alone in Vermont when she died?” I see the plea in his eyes. “Did she tell you why she took that trip?”
I’ve been waiting for someone to bring that up. On the day we met in Mr. Wismer’s office to discuss Denia’s estate, I half-expected Jameson to demand to know why his grandmother was alone at a bed and breakfast in another state, but he never asked Holden. He wouldn’t have received an answer from him because no one but me knew the significance of that trip or why Denia went there.
I scratch my neck. “Yes. I know.”
His hand bolts out toward me. “Tell me, Sin. Tell me because I keep thinking about her all alone there. She died alone.”
I go to him and cradle his hands in mine. Tears well in my eyes. “She wasn’t alone.”
“She was,” he insists. “The manager of the B&B found her in bed. She was gone.”
“She met your granddad there.” I smile through my falling tears. “When they were teenagers, they met there in Vermont. Her family was on vacation, so was his. Their first kiss was the day after they met behind that building.”
“What?” He shakes his head. “I didn’t know that.”
“It was their special place,” I whisper. “Carrick proposed to her there. They went there on their honeymoon. She wanted to be there when she died because she felt close to him.”
“You knew she was going to die?”
I shake my head. “No. The last time I saw her, she was fine. She was energetic and happy. I had no idea that she went to Vermont.”
“When Holden called to tell me she was gone, he said it was a massive stroke.”
I nod. “Maybe she knew, or maybe she just needed to be close to him that day.”
“Maybe.”
I go on because there’s more he should know. “They chose to have their ashes spread in the ocean because the home there was their sand castle. That’s what Denia told me. It was their castle in the sand, and they wanted to spend eternity together near it.”
He drops his head as a sob escapes him. “Their love story was something out of a book.”
“No.” I squeeze his hands to lure his gaze back to mine. “It will be a book. She asked me to write it. She gave me a list of people who held a piece of the puzzle of your grandparents’ love story. She made me promise to write the book after she was gone. I told her I’d do my best to get it published.”
He wipes a hand over his cheek. “You’ll do her proud, Sin.”
“I want to,” I tell him. “I still need to pitch it to Berk. If it gets published, Denia and I agreed that a portion of sales will go to lung cancer research because it took two of her favorite fellows from her.”
“My dad and granddad,” he says.
“Another portion will go to the charity Berk set up in memory of Layna.” I sigh when I think of my late sister-in-law and how she lost her battle with breast cancer. “It was important to your grandma that we honor the people we’ve lost.”