Page 75 of The Bitter Heir and the Beauty

“I’m all too familiar with that line of thinking. Cory and I had something special and—” She goes quiet as if she still holds a candle for him.

My shoulders drop because the affection in her voice makes me worry that I’ll never measure up.

She continues, “When he joined the military, we agreed to go our separate ways. I didn’t want to wait around for him. It was stupid, but I haven’t always been known for my bright ideas or for driving in the slow lane. He had a bad heart—the actual organ. Not his kindness, generosity, or friendship. I’ve always wondered what our future would have been had he made it back and found me waiting. But it was too late. Our relationship had an expiration date.”

The sadness in Honey’s voice is painful. I want to heal the ache.

She clings to me and then looks up with a smile on her face. “I’m not going to let someone as hot as you get away this time.”

Her comment tells me she’s okay ... and something else very important. “So, you think I’m hot?”

She fans herself. “Hotcakes.”

I say, “I’ve been taking ice baths because when I think about you ...”

“You haven’t even lived through a Louisiana summer yet. You haven’t experiencedhot.”

“Notyet. But it’s you that set me ablaze with that sassy mouth, your wise eyes, and just enough swagger not to put up with my ego.”

Our mutual laughter shifts into a contagious yawn as the big grandfather clock chimes with the late hour.

“Leonie is going to be hungry soon.”

“Then we should get some shuteye,” I say, mine drooping.

Head lolling, she nods like she’s about to doze off. I slide my arm under her legs and scoop her up, bring her upstairs, and say goodnight.

Nestled in the Pack ’n Play, Leonie slept through all the excitement. But now that I’m home, the excitement is just beginning.

Even though I want nothing more than to go to sleep, the wall is still glowing. I grab some safety gear from my truck and retrieve Honey’s phone, turn off the flashlight, and grab the final box because I know that if I don’t do this now, she’ll ask tomorrow.

On Christmas, I wake up to the smell of pancakes and the sound of singing.

Merry Christmas to me. This is the best gift I could’ve gotten and I’m glad I pushed through the long drive last night, and not only because Honey would’ve been trapped in the wall.

“Good morning!” she calls when I stagger into the kitchen.

Leonie roars and lunges toward me from her high chair.

“My beauties. Also, this is new.” I gesture to the high chair.

“Mara got a replacement and gave me this one.”

“How generous.”

“I’m trying to be the opposite,” Honey says.

I tuck my chin. “Greedy?”

“No, the opposite of how I was and accept people’s generosity.”

“Which reminds me, on Christmas, is it better to give or receive?” I ask.

She arches an eyebrow. “Is this a trick question?”

“No, it was a discussion the guys and I were having.”

“Is it a trap?” Honey asks.

---