Mrs. Wilkins turns to me with a knowing smile while Landry is occupied. “He’s a good man. Stubborn as they come, but good.” She squeezes my hand. “Solid.”
Solid.That’s what Landry said about Simon. I nod, my throat tight, as Landry returns with her keys. He walks Mrs. Wilkins to her car, explaining something about the service as they go.
I retreat upstairs, needing space to think.
Back in the apartment, I pace the small living area, emotions swirling. Although angry at the deception, I’m grateful for his sacrifice, but confused about what it all means. And underneath it all, there’s the steadily growing certainty that I’ve fallen for this complicated, honorable man, who gave up his inheritance for a woman he’d never met.
The sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs signals Landry’s approach. He appears in the doorway, his expression cautious, as if uncertain of his welcome.
“Mrs. Wilkins get off okay?” I ask, my voice steadier than I feel.
He nods. “She said goodbye. And about six other things I tuned out.”
Despite everything, a smile tugs at my lips. “She’s sweet.”
“She’s nosy,” he corrects, but there’s fondness in his voice.
We fall silent, the air between us heavy with all that remains unsaid. Finally, I take a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would it have changed anything?” he counters, stepping farther into the room.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Maybe, not initially, but—”
“But now?” Something like hope flickers in his eyes.
“Now, I’m torn,” I confess, my hand finding my pendant. “I came here to sell this place and never look back. But now, there’s…there’s you.” The words hang between us, raw and honest. Landry moves closer, stopping just short of touching me.
“I’m not much of a reason to stay, Aspen,” he says, voice gruff. “I’m a broken man with scars inside and out.”
“Is that why you pulled away?” I ask, rising to face him.
He nods, swallowing hard. “You deserve better than me. Someone whole. Someone young.”
“Don’t tell me what I deserve,” I say fiercely. “I’ve had enough of other people making decisions about my life.”
His eyes widen at my vehemence. “I just thought—”
“I’ve fallen for you,” I blurt out, the words I’ve been holding back finally breaking free. “I thought you didn’t want me. That what happened at the cabin was just…physical. But I want more, Landry. I want to see if this, if we, could be something real. Here, in Wildwood.”
The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the rapid beating of my heart. Then, slowly, Landry reaches out, his calloused hand cupping my cheek with a tenderness that steals my breath.
“You terrify me,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “The way you make me feel… I haven’t wanted anything this bad in years. Haven’t allowed myself to.”
“Don’t push me away,” I plead, leaning into his touch. “Give us a chance.”
He hesitates, a shadow crossing his face. “Does it bother you? That I was Simon’s best friend? That I’m old enough to be your father?”
The question catches me off guard, but my answer comes without hesitation. “No. It doesn’t matter to me. If anything, it feels right, like you’re the connection I was meant to find here.”
Relief floods his expression, and instead of answering with more words, he pulls me to him, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that feels like coming home. I melt into him, my arms wrapping around his solid frame as heat blooms between us, familiar and new all at once. His beard scratches pleasantly against my skin, his scent filling my senses.
When we finally break apart, both breathless, he rests his forehead against mine. “I have something to show you.”
He takes my hand, leading me down the stairs and through the garage to a large window at the front, where sunlight spills across the concrete floor. Beside it stands a sturdy workbench I hadn’t noticed before, angled to catch the natural light.
“I thought,” he says hesitantly, “maybe, you could set up here. For your jewelry. It gets good natural light most of the day, and I can install some proper lamps for the rest of the time.”
I run my fingers along the smooth wooden surface, my mind racing. “You built this? For me?”