Page 4 of You Had Me At Valentine

That I loved her and couldn’t imagine a future without her.

Then the unexpected happened.

And it turned out I couldn’t imagine a future with her in it—not if I wanted either of us to have one.

I left Kilt Valley and stayed away as much as humanly possible. My foster family moved to Denver when I did, so I could attend the University of Colorado and live at home. Lachlan MacLellan is the only reason I’m occasionally required to come back.

Without his bottomless bank account, I could never have darkened the door of a college, let alone attend law school. Sure, I could have gotten loans, but the debt for seven years of college would have been crippling.

I owe my benefactor everything. Including my loyalty.

My head knows this. My heart is still struggling to get the memo.

“So,” Lyra says with a saccharine grin that feels forced, but I’ve lost the ability to read her. “When exactly did my father decide to sell his mother’s legacy?”

There’s an edge to her voice that I also want to understand, but I’m balancing some pretty heavy scales here. I’m continually fighting the urge to ask her how she’s been, if she likes working at the resort with her father, what she had for breakfast, and if she’d eat dinner with me so I don’t have to wonder about that, too.

A box scrapes across the attic floor as she drags it toward the stairs.

“Let me help with that,” I say.

“I’ve got it.” But she doesn’t stop me when I take the other end, just drills me with her laser gaze. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I adjust my grip on the surprisingly heavy box. “The decision’s been in the works for a while.”

“Define ‘a while.’”

“The papers were drawn up last month.”

She nods like this is exactly what she expected. “And you’re handling it personally because…?”

Because your father asked me to.

And maybe because I thought enough time had passed that seeing Lyra sounded like a fantastic bonus.

It’s not looking too good on that front. I underestimated how upset she’d be about Lachlan selling the inn.

But at least I knew she would be. Lachlan on the other hand, not so much.

“I handle your father’s trust,” I say instead. “The sale of this property results in a host of legal ramifications, and I also act in your father’s stead via power of attorney. There’s not really anyone else who could do it.”

“So, you’re on his side.” She releases her end of the box abruptly, and I nearly stumble. “Sorry. Slipped.”

I regain my balance—physically. “I’m on the side of the law.”

“Spoken like a true lawyer.” She smirks. “You know that means you’re on the wrong side, right? That’s why the lawyer is the bad guy in all the movies.”

I grin. “Oh, you mean like inErin Brockovich,A Few Good Men,Legally Blond,Marshall,My Cousin Vinny—”

“You’ve made your point.” She reaches for another box, this one spilling over with strings of white and pink hearts. “Legally Blond? That’s not really a movie guys watch, is it?”

“This guy did.”

Anything with legal themes was fair game back when I was struggling to understand my place in the world, particularly among men like Lachlan MacLellan, who could buy and sell small countries if they wished.

If nothing else, Lyra’s question reminds me that we don’t really know each other any longer. We’ve had over a decade to grow into the adults we are now.

I want to know everything about who she is.

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