Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
“Are you mad because you don’t think we’d make good husbands?” Logan asked defensively.
“Husbands? We live in America, Logan. Bigamy is illegal!”
“To be clear,” Soren chimed in, “we aren’t asking for anything polyamorous. We’re just trying to keep Hawthorne Fishery in the family. We need your help, Wren. Could you imagine if the company were sold off and divided? The Hawthorne name would mean nothing after that.”
“And let’s say you chose me,” Logan chimed in. “You know I’d treat you better than Soren or any other man could. I’m a lover.”
She blinked up at him, wondering if he actually heard how idiotic he sounded.
“There’s no way you’re winning this,” Soren growled.
“This?”
“Not this. You.”
“Ah, so much less offensive when you say it that way.” Her eyes narrowed. “How about I talk now?” She took a step forward and scowled at both of them, putting the two idiots on the defensive. “Since I was sixteen years old, you did everything in your power to keep every guy in Hideaway Harbor away from me. For a time, I figured you might actually like me, but it turned out none of you had a single romantic interest in me. You just wanted to screw up my life and make sure I stayed single.”
“That’s not—“
“I’m not finished!” She took another step, forcing them to stagger back. “You stand here, in my home—where I live alone thanks to years of your ridiculous, territorial crap—telling me you could treat me better than any man. Well, I’d hope so! I deserve that. But with all this crazy talk of marriage and wills, neither of you has made a single mention of love. Why is that?”
They looked dumbfounded.
“It’s because you don’t love me!”
“Wren, how could you say that—”
“I’m still speaking. You see me as a little sister. Is that what you want in a wife?”
“We were only trying to protect you.”
“You punished me! By the time I was a senior, no one would even ask me to prom.”
“I offered—”
“That’s not the same!” Her eyes prickled with unshed tears. “You’ve never actually thought about my feelings or what I might need. You all just did whatever the hell you felt like doing, and today is no different.” Her anger left on an exhalation. “Maybe your dad’s right. You boys need to grow up. But I won’t be the woman who makes that happen for you.”
“Give us a chance.”
“No.” She blinked rapidly as her eyes blurred. “I’ve waited years to fall in love. You think I’m going to settle now? Whatever pathetic impression of love you’re offering doesn’t interest me. I think you both should leave.”
“You’re offended—“
“Yes, I’m offended! As my friends, you should want the best for me. This has nothing to do with me. This is about you. It’s always been about you—your feelings, your insecurities. Well, I’m not a kid anymore. All your games of ‘Keep the Boys Away from Wren’ made me the independent woman I am now, so you can blame yourselves for getting kicked out.”
“You’re really kicking us out?”
“Yes.” She snatched their socks off the bricks and flung them at their chests. “This is the last I want to hear about any of this. Now, you both need to leave.” When they just stood there, she snapped, “Go!”
They quickly hopped into their socks and grumbled apologies as they rushed to the door. Not a single tear fell in their presence, but when the truck engine roared to life and the snowmobile buzzed off in the distance, she lost her composure.
Wren locked the door and pressed her back to the wood, sliding all the way to the floor. Her vision cleared as soon as she stopped fighting her tears. She searched the rafters for any sense of her mother’s presence and sighed.
“Tell Sable her sons are morons.”
CHAPTER 3
“It’s Coming On Christmas”
Thirty Minutes Prior
“Aren’t you following them?”
Greyson leaned quietly against the bookshelf in the shadows, still processing everything his father had just shared. “I was never much of a follower.”
“No, you weren’t.” Closing the revised will into the folder, his father reflexively groaned as he shifted back in his seat. “She’s not the answer anyway.”
Greyson’s gaze snapped to Magnus, personally taking umbrage at the slight against Wren. It bothered him that his father’s disdain for Haven carried over to her daughter. Wren had suffered. Girls needed their mothers. His father never cared about any of that.
“In truth, I’d hoped you’d be the one to take over, Greyson. But I’ve never been able to make you do anything you didn’t already want to do, so I’ve accepted that loss and learned to sit with my disappointment peacefully.”
Peacefully, but not quietly. “If you insist on dividing us, we all know it should be Soren. He wants it the most.”
His father scoffed. “Wanting something and being able to handle it are two different things.”