The Summer of Us (Mission Cove 1) - Page 29

“You’ve been angry too.” She pointed out. “Hurt as well.”

“Thanks to my father, we both have.” I huffed out a long breath. “I hope we can move past it.”

“You still love her.” It was a statement not a question.

I met her light-brown eyes. They had always reminded me of the color of caramels. Rich and, despite what she had suffered in her life, warm and open.

“I will always love her.”

She relaxed against the back of the chair. “That explains a lot.”

I tilted my head. “Oh?”

“It’s been her all this time. I’ve watched you for years, Linc. The beautiful women who came and went—who threw themselves at you. Nothing. You always looked through them—not at them. There was never a spark. Certainly not the passion I see in your eyes when you talk about Sunny.”

“It’s always been her.”

“Can this happen?” she asked. “Can you get past everything you’ve been through? That’s a lot of water under the bridge, Linc. You’re two different people now.”

I shrugged. “Am I? Somewhere inside me is still the boy who loved Sunny. Who still loves Sunny. As soon as I saw her, something inside me settled. I felt complete again. I felt like Linc. Not the businessman, not the son bent on retribution. Just Linc.”

“Is that enough?”

I thought about her question before I replied. Abby was always a straight shooter and never held back with me. “It’s a start. All I know is when I kissed her, I felt whole again. I spent the day watching her, needing to be nearby. I can’t explain it—it simply feels as if I belonged close to her.”

She crossed one leg over the other, swinging her foot, the glitter on her shoelaces catching the light as it pumped. “I won’t even address the kissing or you hanging out in her shop all day. But be careful, Linc. Sometimes the past clouds our judgment. Stirs up emotions that were dormant, making them powerful and alive. Don’t confuse old emotions that suddenly have come to life with what may shape your future.” She paused, her voice becoming soft. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. And I’m worried the Sunny of today could hurt you even more than the memories you carry of Sunny inside your head.”

“I didn’t expect this,” I admitted. “But I can’t tell you how right it feels, Abby. I’m not blind—I know we have years to talk about, lots of distance and things to discuss and work through, but I want to try.”

“I assumed so from the bag you had me bring you. You’re staying here?”

“At the hotel.” I looked around. “Not in this house. I will never stay in this house again.”

“Too many ghosts,” she agreed. “They’re all around you.”

“Yes.” I studied her, not hiding the fact that I was doing so. When she had removed her sunglasses earlier, I had seen the fatigue on her face. Recognized the lines of pain around her eyes. That was always her tell. Regardless of the expression on her face, the neutral tone of her voice, her inner torment was always evident in her eyes. The caramel became muddy and dull. The small V between her eyes was more pronounced. Tiny lines became etched into her skin. Anyone who really knew Abby recognized it.

I was one of the few people who knew her.

I was about to ask her what was going on when the sound of a car approaching stopped me. It would have to wait until he left. “Ned is here.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out her tablet. “Okay, boss, let’s get some work done.”

I stood, brushing off my pants. “This conversation isn’t over, Abby.”

She smiled sadly. “I’m aware.”I signed the last of the documents Ned gave me. “So, everything is arranged now?”

“Mostly. We’ve finally locked down most of the permits. I’m waiting for the last one from the city, and we should be good to go.” He sat back, regarding me. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m going to say it anyway, Linc. I’m bringing in appraisers to go through the house. You might not care about the value, but as your lawyer, I insist on having valuations. Your accountant can write off the things you give away as donations. It makes the most sense.”

I scrubbed my hand over my face. “How much longer does it delay things?”

“A week. I’ll have them here to do the work, we can donate some things, then you can throw open the doors and give away the rest. The house is scheduled to be razed in about a month.”

“Why so long?”

He smirked. “You don’t just walk into a place and implode it. It has to be planned and wired. They’ll be here tomorrow to make their assessment. I prebooked the date, and as long as things go all right, they’ll stick to it. If adjustments have to be made, so will the date.” He eyed me knowingly. “Step back, Linc. Think about it rationally—with your head, not your heart.”

Tags: Melanie Moreland Mission Cove Romance
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