Page 41 of Take This Heart (Windy Harbor #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

brIGHT LIGHTS

MILO

Mom calls early the next day and I get out of bed to answer it, walking into the other room so I don’t wake up Goldie.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, love. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

I try to fight back a yawn, but it comes out anyway. “No worries.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. Call me back when you’re awake.”

“No, it’s okay, Mom. I’m awake now.” I chuckle.

“Ugh.” She laughs. “I’ve been awake for hours and didn’t even check the time.

Listen...” She clears her throat. “Would it be helpful if I invited Ava here…without Bruce…so we could all talk? The more I think about it, the more certain I am that he’s avoiding bringing her here.

” She exhales and groans. “He knows I’ve always been able to see right through him, and knowing him, I’m afraid he’s using Ava as a pawn to get to Everett, and I don’t like it one bit.

Maybe I could be a safe space for both Ava and Goldie. ”

“I absolutely think you should reach out to Ava and try to get to know her. Please do it in a neutral place like a restaurant, instead of the house. But we should let the Whitmans work through their relationship with her as they see fit.” I bring the phone closer and lower my voice.

“Mom, if I hadn’t stopped her, she might’ve burned the whole place down.

That certainly seemed to be her intention.

She did show remorse afterward, but she was also cornered.

The bottom line is…we don’t know her. She’s family and I want to get to know her, but the truth is, she’s off to a shaky start. ”

“Goodness, she sounds really troubled. Do you know what her upbringing was?”

My mom is a bleeding heart and I can tell by the empathy in her voice that this situation is already eating away at her.

“No, I don’t know much about her at all. I never could’ve imagined her being Goldie’s half-sister, and yeah, it wouldn’t surprise me if Bruce is using this situation to his advantage.”

“I hope he’ll do right by her.” She exhales, but there’s still worry in her voice. “Okay, I’ll let you go. Just wanted to run that by you. And I’m glad I did.” She laughs. “You know me—I would’ve been attempting a mimosa brunch here with Ava and Goldie to try to bring peace to them.”

“I know, Mom, and I love you for it.”

“I love you too, my boy. Hey,” her voice perks up. “You and Goldie sure were cozy last night. Things seemed…really good.”

I scrub my hand over my face, laughing under my breath. “Things are really good.”

“Well, you won’t hear me complaining about that. We’re not getting any younger, either one of us, and I’d like to be young enough to chase my grandkids around, thank you very much.”

I groan. “Let’s not rush things.”

She giggles and I’m glad that she sounds lighter than when she called.

“I love you, Mom. Keep me posted on how things go with Ava. You got the number I texted last night, right?”

“I love you too. And yes, I got it. I’ll reach out today.”

We hang up and I go to the bathroom I’ve been using when I’m not doing a water sport with Goldie in her bathroom.

I get my toothbrush out of my shaving kit and brush my teeth before I shower.

I’m shaving with a towel around my waist when Goldie leans against the doorway, her long hair wet.

She’s wearing jean shorts and a baggy sweatshirt.

I set my razor down and tug her toward me. “Why do you always look so fuckable?”

“Dear dirty sir, I think you have a one-track mind.”

“When it comes to you...yes.” I laugh.

She grins and picks up my razor, carefully shaving the last strip of foam on my cheek.

When she’s satisfied, she moves and turns the water on for me.

I rinse and turn back to her. She runs her hand over my skin and lifts to her tiptoes.

I lift her, setting her on the counter in front of me. She nuzzles her face against mine.

“Mmm,” she sighs. “Nice.”

“Did I wake you up?” My mouth brushes hers and I kiss her lightly, my hands wandering to her backside.

“I’m not sure, but I needed to get up anyway.”

“What are your plans for today?”

“I need to get serious about finding those letters and get back to Dad...preferably by tonight.” She pauses. “I can get Tully to take me back if you’re not ready.”

I lean my forehead against hers. “I came to win you back.”

She runs her hands over my head. I think maybe she likes my stubble as much as she liked my hair. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you’d lost me. I was just lost, period. It was selfish of me to leave town without telling you. I didn’t think about how it came across.”

“I thought you didn’t believe me and that you might be done with me.”

“I can’t quit you, baby,” she sings.

I laugh, kissing my way down her neck.

“I didn’t take you for a Led Zeppelin fan.”

She holds up her finger. ”Little known fact: that song was written by Willie Dixon and originally sung by Otis Rush.”

I straighten, grinning at her. “You’re right, I did not know that.”

“Grandpa Otis made sure everyone knew it. He appreciated his name,” she laughs, “and it bugged him that most people thought it originated with Led Zeppelin.”

“Well, I’m glad I learned the truth.”

“You would’ve made it up to him by having Otis Redding on your playlist. He was a big fan of him too, of course.” She sighs. “I need coffee. Someone kept me up the past two nights.”

“Someone kept me up too.” I smirk and she reaches out and slides her hand up and down my dick.

“So I see.” She scoots off the counter and I think she’s about to drag me back to her bedroom, but she takes off, calling, “Sex will be our reward…later. Otherwise, we won’t leave the bed!”

I groan, adjusting myself, and get dressed before I go downstairs. When I walk into the kitchen, the coffee is brewing and she’s already pouring scrambled eggs into a pan.

“That was fast,” I say. “What can I do to help?”

“Get your coffee. There’s orange juice and fruit in the fridge, if you could grab that, please. Then have a seat.”

I grab everything, including the silverware and napkins she’s set on the countertop, and take it to the table.

“Thanks. This looks good,” I tell her when she brings the plates of scrambled eggs.

She makes a face. “I don’t have bread, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m getting a home-cooked meal.”

She laughs. “If you think this is a home-cooked meal, you’re hurting.”

I shake my head. “Not hurting. This is just nice. I like this house too. I’ve always loved this street.”

She nods. “Me too. Frank Lloyd Wright wasn’t a fan, but I appreciate the European influences.”

“And I appreciate your wealth of little-known facts.”

“You must’ve known that one though,” she says.

I grin. “I did. Now, tell me about this house of yours. What is your dream house?”

“Well, my plot is the one that has the smaller dock. I’d want to extend that dock so it feels like the house is right on the water without actually being right on the water.

” Her eyes are bright as she talks about it.

“I’d like a wraparound porch that goes all the way around the house and endless windows.

I love weathered wood, so I’d like a great room overlooking the water with floor-to-ceiling windows and weathered wood on the ceiling.

” She stands and grabs a piece of paper and a pen out of a nearby drawer and takes a few minutes to draw it out.

“Basically an A-frame with Victorian elements. Wouldn’t that be pretty? ”

“Beautiful. I love the shape of these windows and the beams.”

“And endless water right out there.” She taps at the page. “Do you miss being in the city? Your penthouse is beautiful, but do you ever wish you had more space surrounding you? More nature instead of buildings and bright lights?”

“I haven’t missed the city like I thought I would. Being in Windy Harbor has been better for me than I expected. I’ve looked for every opportunity to be there more and when I come into the office to work here, I can’t wait to get back.”

She loops her foot around mine.

“It helps that you’re in Windy Harbor,” I tell her.

She holds her coffee cup in mid-air and gives me a sweet smile.

“I thought I would miss the city more too, but I haven’t at all.

I miss not painting as much. That’s been set aside a little since I’ve been there.

I’ve painted some, but not even close to what I did here.

But that’ll change, I’m sure, when things calm down.

I’ve loved working on Windhaven, but I need a big space to paint where I can make messes and not worry about it.

Like a mini pavilion that would be all mine. ”

“You should absolutely have that. Would you like me to draw some plans up?”

Her eyes light up. “I would love that.”

As we eat, she gives me more details. I make a few notes in my phone. After we eat, we wash the dishes and when we’re done, she slumps against the counter.

“Okay, I’ve put it off long enough,” she says. “I’m going to the attic.”

“Do you want company?”

“I would love company.”

She leads me to the attic, a fully finished space with an open area, a bedroom, and a bathroom. At one end of the open area, there’s a door that leads to a room filled with boxes and old furniture.

“A lot of my mom’s things are in here. We each took something of hers.

I have her jewelry and a few clothes of hers that remind me of her…

her boots.” She lifts her shoulder. “But I left some things that I loved here too. It didn’t feel right to take all of it.

I guess I like knowing her treasures are still up here. ”

She points to a pretty box. It’s brown wood with colorful metal flowers on top.

“That’s where I think the letters are. My brothers and I were talking and we remember seeing a key in her desk that she’d never let us play with, and we always wanted to.

It was one of those pretty skeleton keys.

” She leaves the box and walks to the far end of the room, where a sliver of light comes through the small window.

She pauses before she opens a drawer.

“This is one of my favorite pieces. I’d like it in my house one day. None of us could take seeing it all the time after she was gone because she loved this desk and worked here a lot. But I think I’m ready.”

She opens one of the drawers and pulls out a tiny box, slowly lifting the lid. Inside is a skeleton key.

She looks up at me, her expression tentative.

“Are you nervous?” I ask.

“Yes. I don’t know why, but I am.”

She takes a deep breath and moves to the larger decorative box. She smooths her hand over it lovingly, then slips the key inside, her breath hitching when it opens. She looks at what’s inside and I look at her.

When she blinks, tears fall down her cheeks.

I put my hand on her back, rubbing gently.

She picks up a stack of letters and then sets it aside, pulling out a tiny hospital bracelet and two doll-sized pink socks.

She puts her hand to her mouth and picks up the smallest pink knitted hat.

A sob breaks from her throat and she turns and buries her head in my chest.

“She must have been so afraid and so devastated. She was so young. I can’t stand thinking about how sad she must have been all those years, thinking about her little girl out there.”

“She’d be glad to know she’s okay,” I tell her.

“I hope she is okay.” She looks up at me and I wipe her tears away. “I think I have to make sure she is…for Mom.”