Page 78 of The Candlemaker

But Lou looked nothing like her twin sister. Not to me.

“Please,” I begged. “Call me Chandler.”

Her shoulders rolled back, and she took a deep breath. Unlike her sister, Lou Kinkade had to physically prepare herself to stand up to me.

“I think I’d rather call you Mr. Collins for this conversation,” she said simply, the words like a bucket of ice water over all the warmth in my chest.

It looked like theno-business-at-family-dinnerrule was about to be broken.

“Of course.” I nodded curtly. “I assume this is about the inn?”

“Yes,” she hesitated. “And no.”

“Interesting…”

Lou took a deep breath, glanced in the direction of the kitchen, and blurted out, “Mr. Collins, I’d like to match Mr. Fairfax’s offer for the inn.”

I swayed back.Of all the things…

“You want to offer the same amount?” I repeated, a little dumbstruck at the surprising direction of the conversation.

It wasn’t that Lou’s offer was unreasonably low; it was pretty decent for someone who planned on revitalizing the property. But for someone like Fairfax, who was going to start from scratch and build modern condos, that return could justify a much higher bid.

“Yes.”

My brow creased. “Are you sure?”

It wasn’t my place to question her or any buyer’s financial situation. If she was able to offer more, she could. But after all my conversations with Frankie, especially when she was pretending to be Lou, I’d gleaned that the woman in front of me was putting everything she had on the line to buy this place. And if that was the case, to offer more meant she…

“Yes, she’s sure,” a deeper voice chimed in. Kit Kinkade moved behind his sister, his arms barreled over his chest.

He was the one chipping in.

“Kit.” Lou shot her brother a look, one that reminded me of her sister’s warning glare. Based on his response, it clearly wasn’t a look he was used to receiving from Lou. “I’ll handle this.”

Kit grumbled low, his expression maintaining a distinct frown as he walked away.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. He clearly is very protective of the two of you.”

“He tries to be.” She laughed softly. “But only one of us usually lets him get away with it.”Her. Not Frankie.At the allusion to her sister, she quieted, tucking her arms across her chest. “If I match Mr. Fairfax’s offer, will you accept mine?”

My head tipped. “How do you know I wouldn’t accept yours even if you didn’t?”

The key to being a successful businessman—a successful anything, really—was understanding peoples’ motives. I could offer three million for a property worth half that, but if the owner only cared about the preservation of the building, then the astronomical number wouldn’t matter. In business, in life, you had to meet people where they were at.

“That’s the problem, Mr. Collins. I’m afraid you would,” she said softly. Surprisingly soft for how firmly she held my gaze.

“I don’t understand.”

“What’s going on between you and my sister?” she demanded, her pulse rattling against the side of her neck.

Shit.I brought my glass to my lips and bought myself a few seconds to think with a long sip.What was going on between Frankie and me?We slept together. One night. The terms were clear:only pleasure.I didn’t know the truth, let alone if I should be the one to break it to her family.

“Nothing,” I clipped. “We have a business arrangement to assess certain…qualities of the inn.”

She blushed, but not the way Frankie did. Lou’s blush was instantaneous, like a firework of red exploding on her skin. Frankie’s was slower. More subtle. Like the creeping stretch of a wildfire spreading acrossher face.

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