Jen couldn’t deny the itch that burned just underneath her skin, that feeling of starting something and not seeing it through. Not applying her ideas, not giving input. It was like leaving dirty dishes in the sink from now until the end of time, and it made her dig her fingernails into her palms.

Then Aimee’s kind hand curled over hers. And suddenly Jen felt it: that feeling of being cared for, of being mothered. Of actually being the younger sister, and not having to act like the older one. This wasn’t a gradual role reversal over the course of years, but a turn on a dime, one that had her tripping over her own choices and actions.

“You can’t take on everything,” Aimee said. “I know you like to tell yourself that, but you can’t.” She gave a little shake of her head. “I actually have no doubt that if I hadn’t said anything today, you would’ve found a way to live and work in New York and also take on Gleann’s transformation single-handedly.”

Jen just sat there because she couldn’t deny that truth. The thought of working with Gleann to turn it around to attract potential events, and then assist in putting on those events . . . it was incredibly exciting. And it shocked the hell out of her because it was something she’d never before considered. In her mind, bigger had always been better.

Aimee released her hand and rose. “You’re my biggest influence, Jen. You always have been. You teach me, even when you aren’t here, even when you don’t know it. You saved my life.”

Holy shit.

“But don’t you get it?” Aimee continued. “Everything you’ve ever done is to get out from under Mom’s shadow. Hers is dark and horrible, and I totally get that. But you throw a shadow over me, too, sis. It’s a good shadow—it’s always protected and directed me—but it’s time I cast it aside.” 

Chapter

18

The bed in the 738 Maple house was way more comfortable than the one in 740. Leith should have tested each of them out before he’d dropped his bags in Mildred’s Old Lady Museum. Or maybe this mattress was better simply because Jen was curled up next to him in it.

On cue, her eyes cracked open. Since the sun was just coming through the window, they were a sparkling, sleepy green. The color reminded him of dew on early morning grass as he arrived on site for a day’s hard work. He could get used to waking up like this.

“Hey,” she said, stretching. The sheet slipped just enough to show the outer curve of her breast. He tried not to touch and failed.

Arriving back in Gleann late last night, he hadn’t even bothered pulling his truck into 740. He’d seen Jen’s kitchen light on, her silhouette pacing behind the curtains, and swerved right into 738’s driveway. She’d actually locked the door and he’d had to knock, but when she opened the door, the metal window blinds slapping against the wood, he’d immediately been on her. Pushed her against the bad wallpaper and kissed away all her excuses about having a million things to do. Turned out that he got rid of those pretty easily.

“What do you have to do today?” he asked, pulling the sheet down to give himself free access to her perfect nipple. It tasted just as amazing as it had last night, only for some reason her high-pitched sigh sounded even better.

“Everything.” She pushed at his head. “Someone distracted me last night and I’m behind.”

He came up on an elbow above her. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” She craned her neck to look at the clock, which showed six thirty, and winced. “I’ve got to get going. Tell me about Connecticut while I get ready.”

He was struck momentarily speechless as she slid from the bed and bent over for her robe. Throwing his bare legs over the side of the bed, he pulled the sheet over his lap. “It was great. Put a deposit on a new storage facility and signed a lease for an apartment until I can find a house I love, made nice progress in the Carriage assessment and planning. Still need the official sign-off and contract, but that’ll come this weekend when I go back.”

She peeked her head out of the bathroom, toothbrush sticking out between her lips, her hair in that messy knot on the top of her head that, for some reason, drove him crazy. “So you came back to get the rest of your equipment? Start moving things down by the weekend?”

Though he responded with a “yes,” the weird, uncomfortable twinge in his chest told him there was something else he had to do before that happened. He turned to look out the window toward town.

Jen finished brushing her teeth and came out to kiss him with a minty mouth. Then she took his hand and placed it high up on her inner thigh, where she knew he liked to touch. “Sure I can’t convince you to stay for the games?”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with being convinced.”

Suddenly he remembered what she’d said to him the other morning in the kitchen of her city apartment: Your dad. The house. You haven’t dealt with losing him yet, and going to the games, which was such a huge part of growing up—for both of you—would be too painful a reminder.

The house.

The tightness in his chest now had a name, a purpose. That house was why he’d truly come back. Because once he started transferring his big equipment and computers and supplies down to Connecticut, he would convince himself there would be no reason for him to come back to Gleann. Except that there was. Da’s house was still sitting there, filled to the brim with things of a life gone, and it would sit there forever if Leith didn’t do something about it.

“I know,” Jen said softly, and moved to the closet to pull down one of the long sundresses he loved on her. He watched her dress, watched how the fabric flowed over her body.

She’d been inside Da’s house, had seen how he’d left it, how he’d locked up his emotions. For a moment he was moved to ask her to come with him that day, but she was already starting to talk to herself, her lips moving through silent lists, her brow furrowed in a look of concentration, and he knew that her mind was already back at work. He’d already stolen a lot of her time last night.

Besides, he wanted to sort some shit out on his own before he talked to her about his mindset.

Before she left for a meeting with the caterer, he kissed her with resolution. He liked that, kissing her good-bye in the morning. He wanted that every day. But first there was something he needed to do.

After he made one phone call to an old contact who could help him out on short notice, he called Duncan and then Chris, asking them both the same thing: “Hey, man, you busy today? I kind of need your help.”

Leith was standing on the flagstone path leading up to Da’s house—the closest he’d gotten to the front door in three years—when Chris pulled up in his crappy Chevy two-door. Leith’s lone remaining employee got out of his car, worry plastered on his face, his shoulder-length hair bed-messy.

“I just did the yard two days ago,” Chris said. “Everything okay?”

“No, no, the yard looks great.” The younger guy had taken too much off the euonymus shrub there in the corner, but it didn’t matter now. “I need you for something else.”

Duncan arrived then, heavy metal screeching out from behind the closed windows of his SUV. He parked crookedly in the grass on the opposite side of the road and crossed to the two men, his shaved head already shining in the hot summer sun. He slapped palms with Leith and gave a polite nod, hands on hips, to Chris as Leith introduced them. Duncan shaded his eyes with a hand as he took in the tiny, dark ranch house. “So what the hell is this place? What do you need help with?”

Chris gave Duncan a funny look, like he should have known this was the place where Leith had grown up, but Duncan was a throwing buddy, not a Gleann local, and Leith had already moved out of here by the time they’d become friends.