Wrapped in You (The Monroes 1)

With a shrug, Zach went on. “I started boxing up some of her things. I need to have the apartment empty by the end of the month.”

“Stubborn ass,” Braxton muttered around the drink as he took another swig. “I’m on break. Why not ask for help?”

“She doesn’t have that much.” Zach crossed his ankles, lacing his fingers over his stomach. “I found something.”

“What?”

“Chelsea kept binders with pictures, notes, and detailed plans regarding the Sunset Lake house.”

Braxton set his can down beside the chair and raked a hand down his face. “I can tell by the look on your face you’re already worried what my reaction will be. Go ahead, tell me. Chelsea had some crazy ideas, so I doubt anything could shock me at this point.”

Zach wanted to laugh. “She wanted to open a women-only resort and spa.”

“Seriously? She would’ve been great at something like that. I knew she had some good business sense in that sometimes flighty head of hers.” Braxton’s smile faltered, his eyes narrowed. “Wait. Don’t tell me—”

Zach allowed a smile to stretch across his face. Smiling always felt so foreign to him, he’d not had many reasons to do so in his life. Seeing Braxton’s stunned expression and a hint of pissed-off thrown in was certainly an occasion to release the grin.

“At least consider the economic angle of this,” Zach stated, hoping to appeal to Braxton’s business side. “You know how this town already gets an overflow of tourists from Savannah. This women’s resort would be a great idea. Women eat that shit up. Massages, getting their nails done, wine, and all that other stuff.”

Braxton eased forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and shoving his fingers through his hair. “Can I ask why you’re so hell-bent on making this happen?”

Zach had asked himself that same question. The answer was simple really. “I want Chelsea to live on somehow. If making this work honors her memory in any way, I don’t see how we can’t go for it. Do you really want to ignore this?”

“You’re right.” Braxton sighed, dropping his hands to dangle between his knees. “Damn it, I hate when you’re right.”

Reaching over, Zach slapped his brother on the back. “That was easier than I thought.”

“Don’t gloat.”

“I plan on heading to the house Sunday morning, if you’d like to go. We need to get an idea of what needs doing so we can get a building permit to fix it up. I’m sure the electrical and plumbing aren’t even up to code.”

“This is going to be a long project.” Braxton laughed. Not an amused laugh, more of a “what the hell are we doing” laugh. “Let’s keep this under wraps. The last thing we need is for word to get out that we’re working on a resort for women.”

“If it helps, Sophie thinks the business is a great idea too.”

Braxton’s shoulders stiffened, his eyes widened. “You talked to Sophie about this?”

Damn it. “She was at the apartment when I got there.”

“Really? And you two actually had a conversation without anyone else as a buffer?”

Zach stared at the fire, refusing to rise to the bait dangling in front of his face. This conversation had been about the property. Nothing else.

“Grouchy Zach is back,” Braxton muttered. “Looks like I hit a nerve. Will you stop closing up when someone brings up a topic you’re not comfortable with?”

“I’m not discussing this.”

Braxton sighed, reached down for his can, and took another drink. “I know you have feelings for—”

“Shut up.”

No way was he discussing his damn feelings, and definitely not regarding Sophie. Shit. Had he been that transparent? He didn’t need to get his emotions out in the open. They were just fine living deep inside him where no one could see.

“Zach, it’s me.” Braxton shifted in his seat to glance over. “I’m not judging, I’m not telling anyone. I’m just telling you this thing you’ve got eating you alive has got to be dealt with. You give off some strong vibes. I’m sure she’s oblivious to them, but I know you better. And the guilt you—”

Zach jumped to his feet. “Shut the hell up. I’m not having a Dr. Phil moment with you. I don’t need anyone inside my head rooting around and trying to diagnose my problems.”

There were too many for one person to handle anyway.