Page 67 of Out of Bounds

“Zara must have called him,” her brother answered. “He’s the executor of the will.”

“Stu is?” she asked, stopping on the front porch. Stu was the executor? That didn’t make sense. Sure, the two men were thicker than thieves, and if there was anyone that her father had trusted it was Stu Wellington, but why wasn’t it her or Tripp. “It’s not you?”

“No, Big D wanted it to be a neutral third party.”

Neutral third party? What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

A loud shriek pierced through the air as Dalton opened the door, causing both of them to recoil slightly. It was hard to tell from the sound whether or not it was one of anguish or anger, but one thing was certainly clear, it was BobbiJo making the noise. Felicity felt her hackles go up, trying to prepare herself for whatever they were going to find. This could go a number of ways, and Felicity was sure that no matter which one of them played out, she was only going to feel even more drained when it was over.

Following Dalton into the brightly lit library, she found Zara and Jonah sitting on opposite ends of the room, both their faces tense with emotion, while their stepmother paced back and forth in front of the large windows that overlooked the side yard.

“Hey there, kids,” Stu said, walking over to greet them. His face was pale and sullen, matching that of his daughter’s.

“Stu,” Dalton greeted him, giving the older man a hug. Stu then turned to her, arms outstretched to greet her the same way he just had Dalton. She reciprocated the gesture, feeling awkward and stiff as she did so. Hugs had never really been her thing, at least not since her mother had died. She just wasn’t willing to let anyone that close to her. Well, until Gunnar.

Dalton joined Zara on the couch, and Felicity watched as he pulled her in close, placing a kiss on the top of her head. An ache spread through her, wishing Gunnar were here. She wanted that same comfort that Dalton was finding in his fiancée, and she knew that the only person who could provide that was him. His arms had felt so perfect around her earlier, and she craved that connection again now. Flexing her hands, she tried to make her body forget about his touch, but she just couldn’t. She was too raw and emotional.

“I’m sorry, you two. I know that your relationship with your dad was strained at times, but that doesn’t make this any easier.”

“Thanks, Stu,” Felicity replied, trying not to lose it all over again. Saying that their relationship was “strained” was an understatement. Hell, Big D was the reason her brother had moved to St. Thomas in the first place. But she appreciated the sentiment, nonetheless. Stu had been friends with her father since they were boys, so this was his loss too.

“Tripp, I left some paperwork for you with Zara. I know that your father’s will and estate are the last thing on your mind right now, but when you’re ready, she’s got them.”

“Thank you for finally gracing us with your presence,” BobbiJo quipped, not bothering to stop her pacing to greet them properly. She was wearing black slacks and a gauzy black blouse, with not a hair out of place. Her makeup was done simply, with a distinct lack of mascara, her eyes puffy from tears. Felicity took a moment to take it all in. Dalton had said she’d gone for a run. Had she really taken the time to shower and dress after finding her husband dead?

“Where’s Lulu?” Felicity asked.

“She upstairs. She’s not handling her father’s death well.”

Right, because this is a fucking walk in the park for the rest of us. And her father? Because he was just some guy to me and Tripp?

“Stu, I want to know what it says. I need to start making plans and—”

“I will handle all that,” Stu said, cutting BobbiJo off. “D left me with a set of very specific instructions, one of which was not to let you worry about anything other than your family.”

“I am only worried about my family,” she responded, her tone tense but polite. “But since I am now the matriarch of said family, I need to make sure we are all on the same page.”

“Matriarch?” Felicity scoffed. She did not just go there…

“The man isn’t even cold yet, BJ. Don’t you think it’s a little early for demands?” Dalton asked.

“I miss your father more than words can say,” she choked. Although based on what she was witnessing, Felicity wasn’t entirely sure that the emotion wasn’t as put on as her makeup. “But your father and I prepared for this. We knew it was coming. And I want to make sure that his wishes are honored.”

“I will see to that,” Stu told her.

“You’re not the only one he had a conversation with,” Dalton added, standing up from the couch.

Wait, what? He’d talk to Tripp about this? Why hadn’t big D talked to her? Felicity turned to look at him, the tense look on his face clueing her in to the fact that she was out of the loop about something. Very, very far out of the loop.

Just one more thing my father hadn’t trusted me with…

Chapter Twenty-Five

Raw.

That was the only thing Felicity felt as she turned the key to her condo. Completely and utterly raw. Right down into her bones.

The rest of the day hadn’t gone any better than that first initial encounter with her stepmother. Morning had morphed into afternoon, all of them going in circles about what would and wouldn’t be handled and by whom. No matter how many times BobbiJo insisted that the will be read right then and there, that she needed to know, Stu was there telling her no. It was a pretty lopsided fight, since Dalton also repeatedly informed everyone there that he knew that their father’s wishes had been that the will not be read until the morning after his memorial service.