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)
I bark out a laugh. “What?”
“I know you blew out of New York because Sinclair said no, but you didn’t say a word to me.” He glances at the sky. “If you would have come to me, I’d have told you to stay. I wanted us to work together. I always thought if I were CEO, I’d offer you the role of COO, but before I could bring that up, you were gone.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“I’m not.” He shifts the empty urn from one hand to the other. “You would have done the same for me if Finella had said no and Sinclair had said yes.”
I can’t say that I would have. At that point in time, the competition between us was fierce. We both wanted control of the company when Denia died. I never once entertained the idea of making him Chief Operations Officer in the event that Sinclair agreed to marry me before he put a ring on Finella’s finger.
“Business aside, I may have beat you to the finish line when it came to marriage, but dammit, James, you won that race.” He pushes a finger into the center of my chest. “You’re going to marry the woman of your dreams.”
“Is Sinclair going to propose to me?” I joke.
He chuckles. “I have no fucking idea, but I do know you’ll drop to a knee and ask her again. You’re going to do it right this time.”
He’s right. I want that, and it’s my intention at some point.
“She’s going to say yes.” He scrubs a hand over the stubble on his chin.
He shaved at some point recently, but not today or last night. This more laid-back version of my brother is the one I’ve missed for years. This is the Holden I grew up with and idolized.
“From your mouth to Sinclair’s ears.” I grin.
“You two were made for each other.” He gestures toward the house. “Let’s grab a coffee. I’ll make it unless you’ve gotten better at that.”
I pat the center of his back. “It’s coffee duty for you.”
“Boys!”
The female voice calling out from the right lures our gazes in that direction.
I immediately spot Mrs. Frye on the approach with something in her hands.
“Is she still taking care of the beach house?” I question my brother in a low tone.
He glances at me. “She is. I called her a few days ago to tell her about Grandmother and let her know we’d be headed up this weekend.”
As she gets closer, I reach out a hand to her. “It’s so good to see you, Mrs. Frye.”
“Jameson.” Her blue eyes sparkle in the early morning sunlight. “And Holden. Look at the two of you.”
We look at each other and laugh.
Mrs. Frye joins in, too, as she shoves something covered in a blue kitchen towel at me. “I made the cookies that you used to love. I hope you still do.”
As soon as the plate is in my hands, I look under the cloth. “Damn right, I do.”
“I’m so sorry about Denia.” She sighs. “She was so good to me. I considered her a friend.”
Holden rests a hand on her shoulder. “She felt the same way about you.”
A single tear streams down her cheek. “I’ll grab my keys to her house and get those to you before you leave. I’m sure you don’t need my help anymore.”
“I do need your help,” Holden insists. “I plan on making frequent trips here, but if you could look after the house in my absence, I’d be eternally grateful. We can continue the same payment arrangement you had with Denia if that works for you?”
She smiles softly. “It does work.”
“Good.” He glances at the house. “We’re headed up for a coffee now if you want to join us.”
She nods. “I’d like that. I’m wondering about something.”
“What’s that?” Holden asks as he gestures toward the house.
Mrs. Frye falls in step between us, her sandals digging a shallow path in the soft sand. “The last time Denia was here, her friend took a picture of the two of us. It was on her phone. If there’s any possible way I could get a copy of that, I’d be eternally grateful.”
Holden’s pace slows as his gaze shifts from Mrs. Frye to me. He shrugs in silence, indicating that he knows nothing about a friend who stayed here with our grandmother.
She didn’t bring a lot of people to this home. It was a sanctuary of sorts to her. She viewed it as a place to escape the world.
“Do you happen to remember Grandmother’s friend’s name?” Holden asks.
“I do.” Mrs. Frye smiles at me before she glances at my brother. “Sinclair. The lovely young woman who took our picture was Sinclair Morgan.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Sinclair
“Wait!” Arietta raises a hand in the air. “Are you saying that you’re in love with Jameson Sheppard?”
I round the corner from the hallway to see her sitting on the couch with Dudley in her lap.