Page 15 of The Right Wrong Promise

I take her arm gently and take a look while Dan paces around.

Nothing too serious, but she’s probably right.

This could’ve been far worse if Miss Hospitality wasn’t around to break her fall.

“So, who’s the lady, Dad?” Daniel wants to know. “She looked scary.”

“She owns the house,” Sophie tells him. “She was pretty mad that Dad’s here with us.”

“She wasn’t expecting us, that’s all,” I say flatly, but I doubt they believe me.

Soph isn’t kidding.

I can’t shake being looked at like a chunky, unwelcome spider she wanted to stomp. Why, who knows, considering the condition of this place.

Maybe she has big plans. A demo job to lay the groundwork for a new resort or a proper rebuild down to the studs.

If there’s one thing Blackthorns do, it’s empire, though I thought her brother inherited the real estate biz.

“What’s gonna happen next?” Sophie whispers excitedly.

“Yeah, that lady must be pissed! Soph broke her railing,” Daniel says matter-of-factly.

“I did not! It was already broken, or it never would’ve crumbled when I pushed on it.”

“I dunno,” Daniel mutters. “But Dad, are you gonna tell her to get lost?”

I smile wryly.

In my kids’ simple world, it’s an easy solution.

I’m always the big man in charge.

They’ve seen me say no to people so often, they assume it’s the default.

“We’re talking. I’m not going to tell her anything,” I say. “Just stay here with our stuff while we get this sorted. Don’tgo marching around until I can check this place out. It’s an innocent mistake, guys, and we’ll get it sorted. Obviously,” I add.

“Obviously,” Sophie echoes, still frowning.

I drag a hand over my face.

So much for peace and fucking quiet.

I wonder what will happen if we do leave.

We brought tents as backups—the kids love camping, even if it’s a bigger risk for poor Sophie. Loving the great outdoors with a bum foot is a recipe for disaster when it comes to hiking on uneven terrain.

Still, if she had her way, she’d spend all night wandering around in flip-flops, staring at the skies with her telescope.

It’s not the end of the world if we have to rough it in a nearby park for a night before we head back to New York.

But fuck.

They’ve been looking forward to this place, warts and all.

Honestly, so have I.

After the mess with the company—never mind the divorce, the months of stress—I haven’t taken them on a real fishing trip since they were knee-high.