Page 46 of Story Of My Heart

“I don’t even want to help you right now,” she bites out venomously, shoving her trivia cards into her bag and tucking her hair behind her ear. “What even was that?”

The corners of my mouth curl. “Even if it means helping me get back together with Piper?”

Something in my voice catches her attention, and she pauses to take a good look at me. Her shoulders slump, and she lets out her breath with a trill of her lips. “I see it as a service to Piper. And let’s be crystal clear, you don’t deserve her. You’re a special kind of jerk.”

Her words are less sharp now. The way she calls me a jerk feels less genuine, and more like how she would chastise me for finishing the milk before she got to her morning bowl of Apple Jacks.

“I don’t mean to be.” I’m starting to realize that the ultra-cavalier, billionaire playboy with a quick mouth and a lack of humanity persona that I’ve been toting around isn’t exactly doing me any favors. “And I know I don’t deserve her. That’s why I’m here. I still want to try to win her back. How can I prove myself?”

Fallon thinks for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip. “Nothing comes to mind.”

“Why were you inside running trivia?” Ever since she could walk, Fallon spent every waking second outdoors. The idea that she would willingly consign herself to an indoor activity while the sun is shining is more than a bit odd.

“We don’t have a lot of things to do for all ages,” she shrugs, wrapping her arms across her chest. “Not that you’re around enough to notice.”

An idea pops into my head. One far better than a party barge. “I’ll buy the resort a mini-golf course.”

Fallon’s eyes light up, her brows raising, until they furrow in the middle, a crease forming between them. “How can you afford that?”

This would’ve been a great time for Piper to elbow me in the ribs. “After the app launches. We can break ground in the spring.”

“I help you win the heart of the woman you love but don’t deserve,” she drags out, working through my offer out loud. “You buy the resort a mini-golf course?”

“Yes.” I try to sound reluctant, in a way consistent with the financial status everyone thinks I have. In reality, I would buy the resort an entire PGA-level course if it meant even half a chance of winning Piper back. I would pay Tiger Woods to stay here for a week and sign the towels in every room in the building.

“Deal. Ledger, you’re my witness. You heard that, right?” she shouts, turning toward the front desk.

“I’m on it.” Ledger barely looks up at her from the computer screen, shooting her a nonchalant thumbs up. Clearly he is not as invested in the mini-golf situation as my sister is. Brain buzzing with ideas, she leads me out of the main lodge and down a gravel path toward a largely empty patch of grass. There are a few bases on the ground from where a kickball diamond was once set up but is now long out of use, evidenced by the weeds growing around the rubber plates.

“You don’t listen,” she announces suddenly, standing at the now defunct home base with her hands on her hips. I run through the last few minutes, trying to figure out what I may have missed, but come up with nothing.

“About kickball? Or mini-golf?”

“No. You don’t listen to Piper,” she sighs. “Or anyone, for that matter. You hear people, sure. But you don’t really listen.”

“I do listen,” I insist. She levels an unmoving stare at me, and I crumble immediately. “I try to listen.”

“Piper gave up on her dreams to help you with yours.” Shaking her head, she starts to walk along the grass, making a note of the distance of the plot. Occasionally she bends at the waist, miming a putt with her arms. “Whatever that was. Or is.”

My head tilts to one side. “How do you know this?”

“Bonfire. You were there, too, big brother. Quit making my point.” She pauses, glancing around at the rest of the plot, then holds her hand above her head, trying to measure the wind against her fingers. “You think the windmill would work here?”

“No. Too close to the lake.” Fallon nods in agreement. Ignoring the protests from my knees and the cost of my jeans, I take a seat in the grass, tearing at the blades the same way I did when my parents made me play tee ball, and I’d spend the whole game sitting in the outfield. “So, make her dream possible. Fine. I can do that. If I knew what that was.”

Fallon rolls her eyes. “The chocolate. You should know this.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, everything clicks into place. Of course. It’s always been about the chocolate. The serene look on her face every time she gets to work. The genuine joy in her eyes when she watches someone take that first bite. The warmth in her voice when she talks about her time in Paris. She had found something she really truly loved, and put it all on the shelf just for me.

The realization hits me like a bolt of lightning. “You’re a genius. Also, I’m going to need more help.”

“Shocking.” She shakes her head with a laugh, turning and walking away, muttering something about water hazards and animatronic alligators. All I can think about is chocolate. An idea starts to form in my mind. I can’t wait to bring it to life.

Fallon and I settle down around the lodge’s stone fireplace, the crackling of the logs a soft undertone to our conversation. Ledger joins us, dropping onto the hearth with a heavy sigh, his attention finally away from the computer screen.

“Okay, spill,” Fallon urges, her tone half-joking, half-serious. “What’s this big secret you’ve been keeping? Ledger mentioned something about needing a serious family meeting?”

I take a deep breath, the weight of my confession pressing down on me. “It’s about the resort,” I start, avoiding their gazes as I poke at the fire with a stick. “And about me.”

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