Page 68 of From Grumpy to Forever
“I need to be alone, Reid.”
Her words stabbed me in the chest. “Avery, I don’t?—”
“I think you should maybe stay somewhere else tonight.”
“What? No. I’m not?—”
“It’s too complicated,” she said. “And with Jacob at the inn, having you there will be?—”
“You’re not seriously going to let that son of a bitch set one foot back inside our inn, are you?”
“It’s my inn, Reid.” Her expression hardened. “At least for the moment.”
I took a step toward her, but she held a hand out to stop me. “Go, Reid. Please. You’ve already made this worse than it needed to be. I just…” She dropped her head.
And while I stood by and watched, Avery turned and walked away from me, leaving me standing alone on the sidewalk with nothing to do but watch her go.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Avery
Jacob wasn’t there when I got back to the inn. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure he’d have the balls to come back after everything that had happened, but I knew him well enough to know that he liked a fight.
Especially when he had the upper hand.
And in this instance, he did.
And he knew it.
Not physically, of course. Reid definitely had it over him in that regard. But Jacob wasn’t an idiot. He’d use Reid’s momentary loss of control to his advantage.
I dropped my head into my hands. Everything was such a mess. Worse than before, if that was even possible.
I could almost hear my mom’s words in my ears.
After my grandfather’s funeral, when the will was read and I learned about my inheritance, she hadn’t seemed surprised. All she’d said was, “I’d hoped they’d changed their mind. That inn is going to be the same anchor on you as it was on them.”
But I didn’t see it that way. At least, I hadn’t.
I saw the laughter and the love. I saw mornings at the kitchen table with piles of Grandma’s waffles. The way Grandpa would tell her they were the best waffles he’d ever had, even if he’d had one just like it the day before. And then how Grandma would blush a little, and wave off the compliment before turning around with a big smile on her face.
The inn was always a bustle of activity, and every day was different. People were coming and going, and each of them had a story that my grandparents were more than happy to sit and listen to. They had a kind word for everyone, and every single person who stayed under this roof left feeling better for it.
When I pictured the inn and their life here, I saw the way they’d sit on the porch swing every night, Grandma curled up under his arm while they talked about the day and their guests. I saw the love. I felt it.
I wanted it. I wanted that life.
I wanted the inn.
And now…
It looked like I was going to lose everything: the life, the love, and the inn.
To my surprise, it wasn’t the prospect of losing the inn that hurt my heart the most.
I poured myself a glass of wine and retreated to the porch for some fresh air.
I choked back a sob when I saw the empty chains still dangling from the porch roof where my beloved swing once hung. We still hadn’t gotten around to fixing it and now?—
