Page 43 of The Trouble with Runaway Brides

My dad sits forward and places his drink on the table. “Where do you see yourself settling? You go from here to New York all the time, but when it’s time for marriage and family, where do you want to be?”

“Honestly?”

He tilts his head as though he’s surprised I would ask that.

“Here. I always dreamed of raising my kids here.”

“And can you run Whitmore Hotels here?”

I shrug.

Dad answers himself. “Not as long as your grandfather is alive and working. Now, investing in a restaurant there and living here isn’t going to be any easier. You, of course, want to expand there because people know the name, but I’m not sure how any of that gets you your life here in Lake Starlight.”

This is why I always go to my dad for advice. He’s straight up and makes me see things from a different perspective.

“But if you don’t want to be with Whitmore Hotels anymore, you can tell your grandfather. You owe him nothing. That trust fund was yours whether you worked for the family business or ended up being a Broadway star. It was never conditional on what you wanted to do with your life. I know it’s frustrating when he doesn’t listen. Like you’re pounding your head against the wall.” He widens his arms. “Why do you think I own this place?”

“Because Mom wouldn’t live away from her family?”

He laughs. “That too. But I loved your mother so much I wanted this for us. And I never dreamed my life could be this fulfilled, this happy. You and your mother are everything to me.” He pats my knee. “You better go.” He eyes the clock on the wall. “Don’t want to be late for your clients. Do whatever you can to get Asbury out of my fucking hotel.”

I stand and hug my dad. “Thanks.”

“You’re young, Lance, don’t rush it all. Let some of it fall into your lap.”

“That’s what I feel with this restaurant. It just landed there, and I want it.”

“Then take it.”

I nod and say goodbye before walking down the hall to the tasting room. One of the servers is showing Kenzie and Will to their seats when I arrive. There’s no sign of Blake and I’m guessing he’s still not feeling well. I make a note to send another bowl of chicken noodle soup up to him.

“Well, you made it.” I clap my hands in front of me and approach the table.

Will is putting his napkin over his lap. Kenzie’s dark hair is down and curled, her makeup is flawless, and she’s wearing a dress that shows off the swell of her modest tits and her slim waist.

“Whitmore. Thanks again for taking Kenzie to the cake shop.”

Kenzie’s and my eyebrows fly up to our hairlines because Will thanking me seems completely out of character.

“No problem. Let’s get this tasting started. We have two soups for you to try this evening—one is chicken with wild rice, which is a favorite around here, and a lobster bisque that lots of people love as well.”

The servers place the bowls in front of each of them.

“This could be your first course if you wanted. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll give you two some time to sample them and see what you think.”

“You can stay. It won’t take that long,” Will says and hooks his foot into the chair leg opposite him, pushing it out for me. “Have a seat.”

“Okay.” I don’t know why he’d want me to stay, but the faster we get through this, the better. I sit and cross my legs, facing them.

“I like the lobster bisque,” Will tells Kenzie.

She hasn’t tasted either of them. “Then let’s get that one.”

Interesting.

“See? One down already.” He hands the cups of soup to the server, who looks just as surprised as I am that they made the decision this fast.

I gesture for the server with the next course to step up. “As for the salad, you have three options—Caesar, house salad with a choice of three dressings, and a caprese salad with tomato and fresh mozzarella with basil.”

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