Page 15 of Take This Heart (Windy Harbor #1)

CHAPTER TWELVE

LOST

MILO

Noah and his crew started working on the renovation this week.

He was able to bring his crew and find others who had worked with Everett in the past to come on board, so the project will get done faster.

The quality of Noah’s work is some of the best I’ve seen, bar none. And they’re just getting started.

They’re starting with the lodge, which will transform what was formerly a quaint North Woods hotel into a sprawling Rivendell-esque resort.

It’s going to be unbelievable. Grand, yet exuding coziness and charm.

I’m freaking obsessed with the plans, if I do say so myself.

I can’t take full credit for them—Everett and Goldie have contributed greatly—but playing on such a large scale has been the job of a lifetime.

At least it’s felt like play…even though Goldie keeps me on my toes at all times.

That woman…

She’s avoided me all week and it is driving me crazy.

When we have to interact, we’re back to our banter with bite.

If I can’t kiss her, I may as well keep her riled up.

The woman is maddening, to say the least.

Camden is coming soon to contribute his ideas on the restaurant, and then we’ll work on the condos and smaller cabins. I’ve been toying with a surprise for Goldie, but I’ve got to think about the logistics a bit more.

I walk along the path toward the resort and see Goldie with Josh, one of the guys on Noah’s crew. He’s an annoyingly good-looking guy and nice enough…but he can’t take his eyes off of Goldie long enough to do his fucking job.

Her head falls back as she laughs at something he says, and I see red.

I stalk over there and when she turns to see me coming, her smile drops.

“We need to review material samples,” I say.

Her eyes narrow and she folds her arms. “Okay, let’s review them.”

I mimic her stance and wait. When she doesn’t budge, I sigh. “They’re at the house, not here.”

“Why didn’t you bring them out here?”

Because I didn’t come up with this excuse until just now.

“It’s hot out here,” I say instead. “And your dad is inside.”

That softens her and I feel the slightest pang of guilt for using her dad as an excuse, even though it’s the truth. He is inside. He just doesn’t know we’re looking at material samples.

“Okay,” she says.

She looks at Josh and smiles again. What is her deal? Why has she given me all forms of hell since the moment we met and yet looks at him with melty eyes?

“I’ll talk to you later, Josh,” she says.

“Sounds good, Goldilocks,” he says.

I snort. Goldilocks? Talk about unoriginal.

His eyes meet mine and he gives me a knowing look.

I give him a look of my own. One that says I’m watching you.

She doesn’t speak to me all the way to the house, and when we get there, she looks around.

“Was my dad waiting on us?” she asks.

“I thought so,” I lie, looking around the room.

She heads to his bedroom and I put my fingers on my throbbing temples, frustrated that I’m succumbing to this childish behavior.

Fortunately, he comes out with her and is happy to look at the samples. We’re done all too soon and go our separate ways.

It was a mistake to kiss her again.

“It’s so good to see you,” Mom says.

I kiss both her cheeks and then hug her tight. My dad is next and he kisses both my cheeks, laughing as he hugs me.

“Mio figliolo.” He leans back, both hands on my arms, and studies me. “You look good. There’s something different about you.”

“I’ve been spending a lot of time outside…”

His lips pucker. “Maybe that’s it. You look happy. There’s a little light in your eyes that I haven’t seen in a long time.”

I shift, unsure of what to say. I do feel happier lately.

“I guess it’s been nice to get out of the city more. I didn’t realize how tired I was from working so much…and I’m still working a ton, but it feels different in Windy Harbor. The pace is slower, being by the water is invigorating in a way I didn’t know I needed.”

“And what are Everett and his family like?” Mom asks.

“Everett is great. Easy to work with and I can see why he’s been so successful. He’s a true visionary. And his family is equally talented. Goldie is a lot to handle, but her ideas are excellent.”

“Who is Goldie?” Mom’s head tilts.

“Everett’s daughter.”

“Ahh. And how old is she?”

“I don’t know. 25? 26 maybe?” I frown.

I guess I’ve never really thought about how old she is. She feels like my equal in every way, but I suppose she’s probably a little younger than me.

“Is she pretty?” Mom asks, shooting me a look that says she sees right through me.

My mouth parts and I shake my head, starting to laugh. “I’m not even in the door yet and the questions are already endless.”

“Well, get in the door and we can ask more,” Dad teases.

I put my arm around his shoulders as we walk to the dining room.

My parents live right on the water in Lake Minnetonka and the sun is dancing across the water.

Their view is beautiful. I’d always thought one day I’d have my own home on this lake, but now that I’ve been staying by Lake Superior, it’s in my blood.

I guess I could always have a home in both places…

We catch up over dinner, and then the conversation turns back to Goldie. I should’ve never brought her up.

“So, this Goldie girl is pretty, huh?” Mom asks.

“She is,” I say reluctantly. “And she’s opinionated, and feisty. Colorful. Absolutely infuriating. She wants to have her hand in everything, and she doesn’t let me get away with shit.”

Mom’s head tilts and then she starts laughing. “You like her!” She clasps her hands together like this is the happiest news.

“She’s all right,” I grumble. “She’s a lot of work, is what she is.”

And it takes a lot of work to not think about her every minute of the day, I almost add, but that would just lead to more questions that I don’t want to answer.

Mom’s eyes are amused as she says, “Well, I hope to meet her. You should bring her over sometime. She sounds like my kind of woman.”

“Sounds like she’s his kind of woman too,” Dad teases.

They both laugh when I roll my eyes.

My mom’s shoulders stiffen. “What am I saying? She’s a Whitman!

” She shakes her head. “I’m so excited about you finally being interested in someone, I momentarily forgot the woman is a Whitman.

Maybe you ought to distance yourself a bit, go out on a date with someone else.

It’s probably just that you’re spending so much time together. ”

And I miss her when I’m not.

“She’s really gotten under your skin, hasn’t she, son?” Dad asks.

“That’s one way to put it.” I sigh. “Now, can we please talk about something else? I finally have a break from her. The last thing I want to do is think about her right now.”

I’ve wondered obsessively about what she’s doing tonight. If she went out at all, or if she’s home with Everett. Is she wearing that green shirt that makes her eyes look the same shade? Or maybe those tiny red shorts that make it so hard to concentrate…

I hope she ate enough. Lately, she’s been so focused on Everett eating something that she forgets to feed herself.

My heartbeat skips a beat as another thought comes to mind.

That Josh guy better keep to his fucking self.

The last thing she needs to worry about is some needy ass guy who thinks books are good fire starters.

So help me, if he interrupts her night of rest, I’ll need to have a word with Noah and tell him to keep his crew in line.

What am I thinking? I’m from the enemy camp. She’ll find more reasons than ever to hate me when she figures it out.

My dad snaps in front of my face and I blink groggily, like I’m coming out of hypnosis.

“Ah, there you are. I thought we’d lost you to the Whitman girl.” Dad laughs at his own joke.

“Ha. Very funny,” I volley back, but it packs no heat.

We all know he’s right.

I am lost to the Whitman girl.

There are messages from Everett the next morning.

“Can you give me a call? We’ve hit a roadblock.”

I try to reach him, but it goes to voicemail.

On my way back to Windy Harbor, I get a call from an unrecognized number. I accidentally push the button to accept the call and there’s a long pause before the person’s voice fills my SUV.

“Hello? Is this Milo Lombardi?”

Dammit.

“Yes, it is.”

“This is Helen from the Star Tribune. Can you confirm that you are working on the new resort project in Windy Harbor?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Can you comment on what the locals are saying?”

I’m quiet and she keeps talking.

“Our source tells us that the locals are protesting the project. Can you comment on that?”

“No.”

“Are any of your sculpture ideas incorporated into this new build, or is that just for the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden?”

“No comment.”

I hang up. Should’ve done it sooner, but then they’d be writing that I was rude and uncooperative. It’s probably what they’ll be saying anyway.

When I pull up to Everett’s, reporters are lined up outside. Why are they making such a big deal about this?

Everett likes to call it a mini Rivendell, but the scope of his plans isn’t anything outrageous. Yes, it’ll be beautiful and special, and no comparison to what was here before, but he’s not doing anything drastic to take away from the land.

I’m happy to drive past the reporters, but I don’t have a good feeling about this.

According to Everett, the locals have been happy about the boom this will bring to their small town. The lodge that was here before used to provide a lot of jobs and it’s been a huge loss for it to go downhill. Maybe the people who voiced their approval have changed their minds.