Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
It always amazed me that the three men who worked together every day still hung out with one another during their off time. But they were incredibly close, and their friendship was legendary. Their wives had been best friends before marrying each of the men, and they were the rocks of our little community. I had loved growing up in Port Albany. The water, the fresh air, the endless scope of the horizon. My brother Liam was the same way. Ronan, one of the triplets, loved it here as well. Paul and Jeremy—the other two-thirds of the triplets—preferred the bustle of Toronto but spent a lot of weekends and holidays here. Our parents were thrilled whenever we were all together. All the families that lived here had those who came and went. Some stayed, some visited, but it was the nucleus that kept us all grounded.
Just after I sat down, Sandy and Jordan appeared, hugs and kisses happening with everyone. They were our adopted Nan and Pops and were adored by everyone. My dad watched Jordan carefully maneuver the deck with his walker and sit down.
“How’s the knee?”
Pops patted his leg. “Better every day.” He regarded Sandy fondly. “Someone is taking great care of me. Making me do my exercises and keeping me off my boat.”
Dad laughed. “The boat will be there when you’re ready. Far too unstable with your recent surgery.” He winked at Sandy. “Good job.”
She laughed, accepting a glass of wine. “Pain-in-the-ass patient.”
Her words reminded me of this morning, and I spoke.
“I met our new neighbor today.”
All eyes turned to me.
“His dog got off his lead and was wandering the beach. I returned him,” I explained.
Bentley frowned. “His? Not the daughter?” He glanced at Sandy. “What was her name?”
“Nina.”
I shook my head. “Her son, I think.” I barked a laugh. “He takes after his grandfather. Ordered me off the property. He said he inherited it.”
Sandy pursed her lips. “I had heard the daughter died years ago, but I never knew if it was true. After Gail—Mrs. Owens—died, Jack shut down.” She smiled my way. “You probably don’t remember her.”
“I have a vague recollection. She always had cookies.”
Sandy nodded. “Yes. They were private, but friendly. Nina was wild when she was young, and they struggled. She left home before she even graduated. I think it broke her mother’s heart. They became distant. Once Gail died…” She stopped talking. “Well, things were never the same. Jack closed himself off.”
“Well, the grandson is pretty closed off as well.”
Unless he’s dancing in the sun. Or kissing me, I added in my head.
“Maybe once he settles in, he’ll be friendlier. Unless he’s not planning on staying?” Maddox asked.
“I have no idea. He was at city hall the other day trying to get some planning permission, so obviously, he is fixing the place up. To stay or sell, I have no idea.”
Bentley picked up his wine. “Darren Thomas called me.” He smirked after he swallowed, regarding me over the rim of his glass. “He assured me our permits will be ready this week. He also said you were a force to be reckoned with and wants to put you on his payroll.”
I laughed. “Not interested. Is that dreadful man gone?”
He nodded. “He came from Toronto to fill in while Milly was away on sick leave. Darren thinks his superiors wanted him out of Toronto and pushed him his way as a favor.” He lifted his fingers in quotations. “Darren ended his contract, launched an investigation, and was told it would be handled.”
Maddox snorted. “Typical government. Pass the buck.”
Bentley nodded. “As long as we don’t have to deal with it. I told Darren I would put out some feelers in Toronto at city hall.” He sat back with a grin, laying his arm over the back of his chair so his hand rested on Emmy’s shoulder. “I assured him I had some influence there. That man needs to be removed from any job where he has a chance of doing that shit.”
As he spoke, he tugged the shawl on Emmy’s arm higher to her shoulder, tucking it tight. It was an unconscious move on his part, a tender act he performed without thinking. She let him fuss over her, a small smile on her lips. I loved seeing his gentle side with her and his family. It was vastly different from the tough businessman he was during the week.
“How old is the grandson?” Mom asked.
I shrugged. “Older than me. Younger than you. Forties, I guess?”
“Maybe we should invite him for dinner,” Emmy mused.
I barked a laugh. “Don’t bother—he won’t come. He called me ‘one of them’ and told me to leave him alone. I think we’ll probably see about as much of him as we did Mr. Owens. Even less. He has no interest in being neighborly.”