Page 20 of The Valentine Inn

His eyes landed on his hand gripping my arm. Did he feel that? The invisible connection that bound us together in a seemingly impossible way.

I wanted to beg him not to be afraid. To not let go, but that’s exactly what he did.

“I want to make sure you and Jameson are financially taken care of.”

I shook my head and sighed. “It’s none of your concern.”

“The hell it isn’t,” he angrily whispered.

“Jameson has never wanted for anything.” I glared at him.

“I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t taking care of him. I just—”

“Wanted to ease your conscience?” I finished for him.

He said nothing.

That’s what I thought. “Let me put your conscience at ease, then. I will always do what it takes to make sure Jameson’s needs are met, and when I can and I feel like it’s right, I will meet his wants too. So, sleep well. Goodbye.” How many times was I going to have to say that? Didn’t he see how hard it was for me? I just needed him to leave.

Drake waved his hand around the partially finished area. Izzy had been working on restoring the original check-in counter, and we were waiting on the carpenter to come back and finish the trim and crown molding.

“How are you financing all of this?”

“Izzy strips on the side. She really knows how to bring in the tips.” I smirked.

His lips ticked up a bit before he got all stern again. “I’m being serious, Charlotte.”

“I am too. You should see the pole we installed in the ballroom. She’s thinking of doing lessons or online tutorials on YouTube.”

Drake gave me his signature you-are-frustrating-me-to-no-end groan. Good. He deserved to be frustrated. But I also knew he wouldn’t leave until I told him the truth.

“If you must know, I lived with my parents and saved a lot of money. Then my grandma died last year and left Izzy and me as her sole beneficiaries.” Well, sort of. My dad was also her beneficiary. But after all these years, Grandma still hated my mom for stealing her baby boy away from her, so she’d made it clear that only my dad could spend the money. She’d literally called my mom a hussy in her will. Dad loved Mom so much, he refused to take any of it. So, Dad had offered it to us and told us to make our dreams come true. I love that man. Though I wondered if he just wanted Mom to himself, since Izzy had moved back home, too, after her divorce. Regardless, his gift was enough, along with what Izzy got out of her divorce settlement, to purchase this beautiful money pit.

“How much was your inheritance?”

I blew out enough breath to make my bangs take flight. “Enough.” I hope. “Are we done now?”

He swallowed hard, like he didn’t know the answer to that question. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’d like to help you out. I’ll have my lawyer call you to set up the transfer.”

“Don’t waste his time. I won’t take your money.”

His face exploded in red. “Why the hell not? I’m trying to take responsibility.”

There was that word again. “If I wanted you to take responsibility, I would have made sure you knew a long time ago.” My eyes started stinging with tears. I waved my hand in front of my face, trying to stave them off. “I really need you to leave now.”

“What do you want from me, Charlotte?”

“Nothing,” I lied. “I need to go,” I hurried to say. “Jameson needs to get to school.” And I needed a good cry.

Drake turned and peeked through the door’s glass to see Jameson laughing his head off. He had the best laugh.

“Does he ever ask who his father is?” Drake asked, with a wistfulness I’d never heard from him before.

“Of course. For now, he thinks it’s Uncle Sam,” I admitted. Izzy was more and more right; I needed to quit saying that. It was ridiculous. But who would ever believe Drake Foster, acclaimed actor, sexiest man alive, was his dad? They would take one look at me, compared to all his past girlfriends, and probably try to get me committed to the psych ward.

Drake’s lips twitched for a nanosecond. “What will you tell him about me?” he begged to know.

“If you’re worried your secret will get out, don’t be. Only Izzy and my parents know.” Okay, and George, but he’d guessed, so I wasn’t counting him. “And we made a vow to never disclose your identity,” I snipped back. Not to protect Drake, but for Jameson’s sake.

His head whipped my way, his eyes bearing down on me. “Charlotte, I don’t give a damn who you tell, except for the firestorm it would create for you. What I want to know, is what will you tell my . . . son,” he stumbled over the word, “about me?”

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