Part 22 (1/2)

”No, no. I mean-f.u.c.k, you really should sit down.”

I laugh again, but I let him lead me to the couch.

”So what exactly is going on?” I prompt.

”The meeting was... interesting,” he says. ”I ran into some of the family while I was there. As you can imagine, they weren't exactly happy to see me. No one was openly rude or anything. Just a little cold.”

He takes my hand.

”Carolson had a lot of stuff,” he says. ”But I'm sure you know that. I guess that in the bigger picture, I only ended up with a small share of what he owned. Most of it went to his wife and kids, I'm sure.”

I don't bother to remind him that he is one of Edward Carolson's kids as well.

He leans forward and takes both of my hands.

”Lou,” he says, ”he left me Huntington Manor.”

I think I black out for a minute. Did he say Huntington Manor?

”Louisa, are you-”

”The estate. He left you the estate.”

Ward nods. ”It's mine. Or, at least it will be. There's a s.h.i.+t-ton of paperwork and it'll probably take a few months to-”

”He left you the estate.” I can't seem to make it sink in. ”So you're going to run it now?”

”h.e.l.l, no,” he says. ”I don't know anything about running a hotel. And I'm not sure I want to. But the project's already considered a failure. It's bleeding money. Half of the investors are gone. I'm thinking it would be better to just shut down the whole thing.”

”And do what? Sell it again?”

”Or live there.”

Okay, now I'm definitely about to freak out.

”There are still a lot of details to get sorted out,” he says. ”But the lawyer explained that most of the debts surrounding the project would be paid out of Carolson's estate before the property even pa.s.sed to me. And I might have to sell some of the surrounding land, or, I don't know, sell off the f.u.c.king crafts cottages or something, but I'm going to figure this out. But if I do, do you want it? Will you live there with me?”

When Ward sat me down on this couch, this was the last place I expected this conversation would go. I was hoping he'd tell me he'd gotten some closure. Maybe some money. But for him to get my old home back? And invite me to live there?

”It's yours,” he says, catching me beneath the chin. ”If you want it. I'm not sure where you're planning to stay after this, but I wanted to offer you at least one possibility. Besides, we're going to need extra room when the baby arrives.”

”That's a lot of extra room.”

”Then we'll sell it and buy a cute little house with a picket fence. Or an apartment in Europe somewhere. We'll go wherever you want.”

”Wherever?” I tease. ”Even Saturn?”

He grins. ”If you want.”

I remember the words we said to each other that night on the beach, the words that kicked off this little adventure in the first place: Everywhere. Every way. I want it all. I want to experience everything with him.

And honestly, I'd be happy living anywhere. But the idea of having my family's estate back, if only for a little while, fills me with joy.