Page 14 of The Holiday Clause

“Yes, I’m offended! As my friends, you should want the best for me. This has nothing to do with me. This is about you. It’s always been about you—your feelings, your insecurities. Well, I’m not a kid anymore. All your games of‘Keep the Boys Away from Wren’made me the independent woman I am now, so you can blame yourselves for getting kicked out.”

“You’re really kicking us out?”

“Yes.” She snatched their socks off the bricks and flung them at their chests. “This is the last I want to hear about any of this. Now, you both need to leave.” When they just stood there, she snapped,“Go!”

They quickly hopped into their socks and grumbled apologies as they rushed to the door. Not a single tear fell in their presence, but when the truck engine roared to life and the snowmobile buzzed off in the distance, she lost her composure.

Wren locked the door and pressed her back to the wood, sliding all the way to the floor. Her vision cleared as soon as she stopped fighting her tears. She searched the rafters for any sense of her mother’s presence and sighed.

“Tell Sable her sons are morons.”

CHAPTER 3

“It’s Coming On Christmas”

Thirty MinutesPrior

“Aren’t you following them?”

Greyson leaned quietly against the bookshelf in the shadows, still processing everything his father had just shared. “I was never much of a follower.”

“No, you weren’t.” Closing the revised will into the folder, his father reflexively groaned as he shifted back in his seat. “She’s not the answer anyway.”

Greyson’s gaze snapped to Magnus, personally taking umbrage at the slight against Wren. It bothered him that his father’s disdain for Haven carried over to her daughter. Wren had suffered. Girls needed their mothers. His father never cared about any of that.

“In truth, I’d hoped you’d be the one to take over, Greyson. But I’ve never been able to make you do anything you didn’talready want to do, so I’ve accepted that loss and learned to sit with my disappointment peacefully.”

Peacefully, but not quietly. “If you insist on dividing us, we all know it should be Soren. He wants it the most.”

His father scoffed. “Wanting something and being able to handle it are two different things.”

“Then give it to Logan.”

“Logan’s a child. I can’t predict the final outcome, but I can guarantee he won’t be the one to take over Hawthorne Fishery.” He coughed and withdrew the silk handkerchief from his pocket to cover his mouth.

Men like his father didn’t wear illness well.

Magnus was a man of small stature with astounding presence. His bearing carried specific gravity, and despite Greyson towering over him by at least a foot, he never underestimated the damage a man like Magnus Hawthorne the Third could inflict.

He’d been such an overbearing presence in their lives that imagining a world without him was difficult. They knew this moment approached, and they’d all had time to prepare. But it still didn’t feel real.

Greyson thought reality might set in when the treatment started, but his dad walked in and out of those appointments like ordinary business meetings. And when his skin showed bruises that refused to heal, Greyson somehow overlooked those symptoms as well. Even when his dad’s bones protruded through his clothes, he pretended not to notice a difference. It was how his father wanted it. No emotion. No fuss.

His father tucked the silk handkerchief away and shook his head. “I can only imagine what kind of fools your brothers are making of themselves right now.”

Greyson didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about any of this—not his father’s inevitable demise or the selling off of their family’s company, and certainly not Wren.

Of course, she’d been the first thought for all of them. But she would never go for that sort of arrangement. Wren embodied emotion and wouldn’t settle for anything short of love. She deserved the absolute best. None of them were good enough for her.

Soren was as deep as a puddle and far too self-involved. Logan stayed too oppositional. And Greyson... Well, he just never wanted to disappoint her.

Wren needed a talker, someone who loved all that spiritual nonsense she practiced down at the retreat. She had so many remarkable talents. She needed someone who would listen to her and not try to change her. Someone with above-average emotional intelligence who would spend every day making her happy.

He frowned as he considered the qualities of a decent man for Wren. As much as the idea sickened him, he’d prefer his youngest brother over Soren. There was just something less threatening about Logan.

“You know, it could actually be Logan.” Saying the words out loud turned his stomach. But Logan always shared a special bond with Wren. Of the three of them, his youngest brother was by far the most sensitive. She deserved sensitivity.

A gruff laugh left his father’s throat. “The day that boy sees anything through is the day I start believing in Santa Claus.”