As I climb out of the car, a chilly breeze whips by, carrying with it the earthy smells of autumn. Such a wonderful time of year, full of sweaters, beautiful warm colors, and of course, pumpkin spice. It’s second only to Christmas.
My ankle-high boots click as I make my way to the lawyer’s office. I’m thankful I chose to wear the long-sleeve sweater dress that’s been tucked away in my closet, making the brisk chill in the air more manageable.
I hear the chatter of a crowd as I cross another street and glance down the road to where the weekly farmer’s market is in full swing. The smell of cinnamon and fresh-baked bread waft toward me, and I inhale deeply, letting out a sigh of longing. Maybe I’ll have to swing by on my way to the car and find the cause of that scrumptious scent.
Carlyle and Carouthers’ Law Office comes into view, and my nerves rise. I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing here. Shock doesn’t begin to cover what I felt when Mr. Carlyle called to tell me Grandpa Jim had left me something in his will. I racked my brain for what it could be, but all I could come up with was his wife Trudy’s beautiful serving dishes. I always commented on how exquisite they looked every time David and I came fordinner, which wasn’t often, but I found it a treat anytime we got a chance.
The door swings open a little more forcibly than I intended with the wind at my back to assist. I trudge up the staircase until I reach the receptionist.
“You must be Mrs. Reardon.”
“Yes,” I smile.
“Great, the others are waiting for you. Follow me.”
I bite my lower lip as I follow behind her. Of course, I’m the last to arrive.
She opens another door and announces me as I step inside.
Quickly scanning the room, I spot the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. He’s leaning against a crackling fireplace, and the flickering light dances over him, adding to his sexy, dangerous look. My eyes connect with his, and my breath catches. His are the most beautiful slate-gray. I swear I see a flash of his lips curling up before his gaze travels down my body slowly and then back up, noticeably stopping at the curves I clearly have on display.
What was I thinking? I should never have worn something this provocative. The burgundy dress hugs my every curve and stops mid-calf. David always told me this dress showed the world what was meant for the bedroom. I thought it made me look nice, sophisticated even, but the way this stranger just undressed me with his eyes has me shifting nervously.
Then he smirks.Smirks.
My eyes narrow, and I turn my attention to the other members in the room: David’s parents and—I assume—Mr. Carlyle.
“I’m so sorry I made everyone wait. Parking was atrocious, which of course is wonderful for the town, but not conducive to my arriving in a timely manner.”
Janet, David’s mother, smiles. “No need to apologize, dear. Now come sit by me.” She pats the empty chair on her left.
“Well, now that everyone is here,” Mr. Carlyle begins, “let’s get to it. You are all here because your names are listed in Mr. Anderson’s will.”
He works his way through several items, including the family car, which all go to his daughter, Janet.
“And now to the business property.”
I notice my father-in-law Tom shift forward.
“I leave Holly Jolly Christmas Tree Farm and its eighty acres along with all that resides upon those acres, including but not limited to the cabin, barn, and office, and any accounts associated with it to John Joseph Reardon—”
My head whips behind me, and I immediately jump at how close Mr. Tall, Blond, and Handsome has gotten. He stands only a foot behind me. But now he isn’t this mysterious, sexy stranger; he’s JJ. David’s infamous brother. The one in some kind of motorcycle gang. Now that he stands closer, I see the tattoos peeking out from under his thermal shirt and the black leather vest he wears over it.
“And David and Rebecca Reardon.”
I fling my attention to Mr. Carlyle.
“Excuse me?” I mumble.
“Are you serious? He left that farm to him?” Tom gestures to JJ, his son. The veins bulge on his neck. “Instead of his own daughter?”
“Thanks for the glowing endorsement,” JJ drawls.
“So,” Mr. Carlyle continues as if Tom didn’t just have an outburst. “The two of you will split the farm, fifty-fifty.”
“Wait. What? That’s not how that works,” JJ interjects. “My brother died before my grandfather.”
“So, you knew your brother died?” Janet snips. “You didn’t come to the funeral. Of course, you didn’t come to Pawpaw’seither, and that didn’t stop him from leaving you the farm, so what do I know?”
