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“How was the drive up?” McKay asks politely.
I try not to feel a pang of disappointment at the polite small talk. I guess I hoped she’d greet me with a long hug, telling me how much she missed having her big sister around. But she seems more reserved than that cheery mental image—although not necessarily distant or cold.
As I chat with Paul and McKay, I can’t help but notice the transformation in them. Their shoulders are relaxed, their smiles reach their eyes, and there’s a lightness to their laughter that seems foreign yet heartwarming.
“So, Paul mentioned your divorce was pretty brutal, huh?” Bishop points out the elephant in the room with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. “How are you holding up?”
“Bishop,” McKay chides him.
He shrugs. “Hey, you’re all thinking about it. I just wanted to break the ice.”
I let out a laugh that’s more air than sound. “It was . . . complicated,” I admit, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “But that’s why I’m here, I guess. To hit reset and start figuring things out.”
Paul nudges me playfully. “Kentbury has a way of showing you what really matters in life. All that other stuff is just background noise.”
I offer a weak smile in response. Maybe he’s got a point. Or maybe I’m too cynical and jaded, and there’s no fresh start for me.
“This is great, but we have to get back to the orchard. I have a lunch appointment with the CEO,” Bishop mentions, planting a quick kiss on McKay’s lips that makes me glance away. “Ready, babe?”
“The CEO won’t be attending that lunch appointment. I have to help Lee,” McKay states and Bishop growls. My sister laughs, linking her arm with his. “Take me away, noble sir. We’ll make it up to you later. We can have a nice quiet dinner.”
“I like how you think, Boss,” Bishop winks at her and I’m starting to think they’re role playing.
Watching the easy affection between them reminds me of the good times with Tony. We were happy once, weren’t we? A familiar pang of guilt twinges in my chest. It’s not only my marriage, but my relationship with McKay. I really let the distance grow between us, didn’t I? Some sister I turned out to be.
“You should try the apple croissants,” McKay mentions over her shoulder. “They’re amazing.”
Bishop pats his stomach. “Really good.”
“See you around,” McKay says, offering a small wave. “. . . and welcome to Kentbury, Lou.”
As I watch them walk away, Paul speaks up, “You’ll be staying at the B&B while the contractor finishes your room at my place. In the meantime, I’ll store your boxes in the garage.”
I open my mouth and close it. Should I remind him of my financial situation?
“It’s a generous offer, Paul,” My voice is hesitant. “It’s just . . . I can’t afford it.”
“Oh, Knightly, the owner, isn’t using it right now,” he states. “They’re renovating the interior. She’s the one who suggested you stay there.”
He gestures for me to follow him outside. The cozy warmth of the bakery fades as we step into the brisk, fresh air. Paul leads me over to a secluded bench, just out of earshot from the pedestrians.
“So, as we said you’ll stay with me for a while. The room will be big enough to fit your stuff,” he continues, pointing toward my loaded SUV, “and we can store whatever boxes you have in the garage for now.” He pauses, looking at me meaningfully. “And if you’re open to it, Grandma and I could really use an extra set of hands here at the bakery. Also, with the nonprofit I set up last year.”
I raise a skeptical brow. “You do realize I know nothing about baking or nonprofits, right?”
He smirks. “How many bake sales and charity events did you organize over the years for the kids’ school and your wealthy friends?”
I should remind him that the fundraisers weren’t for my friends but for hospitals and other important and well-recognized organizations. Before I can do it, “You ran so many successful fundraisers, Lou. Don’t undermine that experience and all those skills you have.”
He’s right, I do have a lot of experience. It’s incredible to see that at least my brother still believes in me, even when I don’t quite trust that I can get out of this hole. I bite my lip, hesitating for just a moment. This could be a good opportunity to contribute . . . or at least attempt to pull my weight around here while I find a new career.
“Well, if you’re absolutely certain that I can help . . .” I trail off, trying to conceal the hopefulness in my voice—no need to seem too eager and set high expectations. But maybe, just maybe, this could work.
“It’s settled then,” Paul declares, a grin spreading across his face. “It’ll be really good to have you around.”
I just hope he thinks that in a couple of months after I’ve screwed this up and still haven’t figured out what I should do with my life.
ChapterSix
