Page 69 of The Sugar Maple Inn

“Great minds,” Grace said quietly, a quick sadness in her eyes.

They kept exploring, finding guest books dating back decades, reading entries from long-dead visitors about fishing trips and honeymoons and family vacations. As Grace was delighting over old menus—“Seventy-five cents for a full dinner!”—Reese casually made his way toward some official-looking boxes while she was distracted. The first box held nothing of note, just business ledgers, receipts, the mundane paperwork of running an inn.

But the second box featured what looked like architectural drawings, rolled up and tied with twine. Reese unrolled them to reveal floorplans of the tower. Original construction drawings from the 1800s, something marked “storage cellar; tower foundation.”

And then a signature of the man who came up with these drawings: Harald Berg. Berg had been the surname of his Norwegian ancestors; the family name that had later changed to Spencer somewhere between Norway and Canada, for reasons Reese had never quite known.

So there it was. Confirmation. His ancestors had built this tower…and there was a possibility they’d hidden something important under it too.

Reese leaned back, looking around him. All his life, he’d only known about his mom’s roots, Canadian through and through. But this…this was his father’s side. This was why it felt like home here, because maybe it had been home for his people once.

“Find something interesting?” Grace asked from across the attic.

Reese rolled up the plans smoothly, keeping his expression neutral. “Just old construction drawings. Boring infrastructure stuff.”

“Nothing about this place is boring.” She’d found a trunk of children’s toys now and was examining a wooden rocking horse. “Imagine all the families who stayed here. All the kids who played with these.”

Reese carefully slid the plans into the inside pocket of the suit jacket. He’d study them more thoroughly later, when Grace was asleep. Figure out exactly what was down there and how to access it without anyone knowing what he was really after.

This was why he’d come here. This was what mattered.

So why did he feel guilty about hiding it from her?

“Reese, when’s your birthday?” she asked. He turned to see her standing over his discarded sweats, his driving license in her hands. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he was changing.

He grimaced. “Today.”

Grace’s mouth dropped open. “You mean to tell me it’s your birthday and you didn’t say anything?”

“It’s not a big deal—”

“Not a big deal? Reese, it’s your birthday.” Her voice had gone soft with something that looked uncomfortably like sympathy. “You’re spending it trapped in a tower with me instead of…I don’t know, having caviar delivered or—”

“I don’t celebrate it. Haven’t in years. It’s just another day.”

She frowned. “That’s really sad.”

“It is what it is.”

“No. It’s sad.” She stepped closer, still wearing that flapper dress, looking at him like she could see through all his carefully constructed defenses. “Everyone should celebrate their birthday. Even wolfish billionaires who pretend they’re too cool for cake.”

“I’m not wolfish.”

“You are.” She kissed him softly and Reese felt something in his chest crack. “Well, you’re celebrating today. Whether you like it or not.”

“Grace—”

“Nope. No arguments. It’s happening.” She was already heading for the hatch. “Keep exploring. Look at your boring construction drawings or whatever. I’ll get it set up.”

She disappeared down the ladder before he could respond, leaving him alone in the attic. He groaned. Grace deserved to know why he really wanted this inn. She deserved honesty.

But if he told her now, she’d think he only wanted the inn for some sort of treasure beneath. How could he explain this went deeper than just a business opportunity? And how could he explain to himself that somewhere between butternut squash and cook-offs, the goal had shifted and whatever was buried beneath this tower mattered less than the woman currently humming off-key one floor below him?

He could have that, couldn’t he? One night before reality crashed back in?

Twenty-Six

Grace