I’m every bit as bad as you’re thinking, he wanted to tell her. Don’t waste your time trying to find my better self. He doesn’t exist anymore.
As if she’d heard him, her eyes hardened again. Relieved, Landon shifted his gaze back to Grayson.
“We’ve leased the building over on Falmead Avenue,” he was saying. “The old Italian restaurant.”
“Baratellis? That’s a good space.”
“Not as good as this one,” Kaitlyn said.
“It’s got good bones,” Grayson agreed, ignoring her. “It needs some work, which we knew. What I wanted to talk to you about is the old LeClark’s decor.”
Landon nodded, “I’ll have my assistant look into it. I’m sure we saved some of it.”
“What about the sign my ancestor hand-carved?” Kaitlyn asked, her voice scraping with sarcasm. “Do you happen to know where that old thing ended up?”
Landon knew where all of it was—in a temperature-controlled storage unit on the east side of town. But he rubbed his chin to irritate her and said slowly, “I might have an idea.”
Before Kait could reply hotly, Grayson said, “About the fountain. We’d like to buy it from you.”
Landon’s eyebrows shot up. “I’d give it to you, Gray, but moving it would cost you a small fortune.”
“I know,” Gray scuffed his hand through his mahogany hair. “I can’t even begin to imagine how much it’ll cost. We couldn’t do it right away. I just wanted to put that on the table.”
“Sure, I’ll have my assistant put it in the paperwork. Anything else?”
“The stove,” Kaitlyn said immediately. “Is it still in the kitchen?”
Though he knew exactly which stove she meant, Landon said blandly, “There are several stoves in the kitchen. Which would you like?”
“You know I’m talking about the Deville,” Kaitlyn snapped. “Our great grandmother brought that over on the SS Lafayette in 1932. She bought a ticket for it because she wouldn’t let them put it in the cargo hold. It’s ours.”
“Technically,” Gray said quietly. “It’s not.”
“Technically,” Landon said, “It’s not mine either. The bank sold off what they could of this place after you left. I have no idea what happened to the Deville.”
If she hadn’t been in front of Landon James, Kaitlyn would have cried. Later, she told the clot of tears forming at the base of her throat. Once I’m back at the condo—
Suddenly she forgot her tears.
“The condo,” she exclaimed, interrupting whatever Gray was saying now. Probably thanking Landon for not tearing down the building altogether, the jerk. “It’s yours!”
It all made sense now. Who did they know in New Canton who was rich enough to offhandedly say, “Here, use this condo for free. I don’t need a million dollars just now, thanks.”
Landon’s face remained impassive, but Gray’s was all the confirmation she needed.
“We’re switching,” she said to him fiercely. “Tonight.”
Gray scuffed both hands in his hair now, feeling the beginnings of a tension headache. “Kait, can’t we talk about this later? After we’ve eaten maybe?”
For the first time, Kaitlyn noticed the unopened menu in front of her. Everything about it, from the tacky cartoons in the corners to the cheap imitation leather cover, offended her. By habit as ingrained as counting, she began working out her review of the place in her head. She always made her overall opinion clear in the first sentence, and her first sentence for this place would be—
Landon knew the moment an idea struck Kaitlyn, because, suddenly, her lips curled slyly at the corners and she raised her smoky blue gaze to his with an expression of someone who was about to boil him alive. It sent heat shooting through him, and he couldn’t stop himself from answering with a wolfish grin.
Do your worst, the grin seemed to say.
And Kaitlyn planned to.
As expected, the food had not been great. It was the one thing Kaitlyn and Grayson could agree on during their drive back to the condo.
“It wasn’t bad,” Grayson said diplomatically.
“No,” Kaitlyn concurred reluctantly. “It was just generic.”
Gray nodded in agreement, and that was the end of the accord.
“Wait here,” Kaitlyn said when he pulled into the underground garage beneath the condo building. “I just need to grab my duffle bag.”
“Kait,” he sighed and turned off the car. “Come on.”
“I’m not staying here, Gray. You knew I’d never take charity from a James.”
“It’s not charity. It’s a favor from an old friend.”
“A favor?” She snorted. “You know when we could have used a favor? Fifteen years ago, when our old friend’s parents were running ours out of town. It’s a little late now.”
“Okay, then think of it as taking something back,” Gray angled into a parking space. “Every day you’re here is a day he doesn’t get a million dollars.”
“Nice try, but people like the James’ have that kind of money in their couch cushions, Gray.” Kait swung out of the car. “If you want to forgive and forget, you take the condo.”
“Fine.” Grayson locked the car door behind him and tossed her the keys before walking over to his own dilapidated vehicle. “But not tonight, Kait. Tomorrow, okay?”
When she hesitated, he groaned, “It’s one night.” And though he didn’t mention it, she heard the headache in his voice and knew that all he wanted to do was get home, take two aspirin, and sleep it off.
“Fine,” Kait acquiesced, “But it happens tomorrow.”
Landon still had a trace of the wolfish grin on his lips when he sat down in his father’s old study to power up his computer. The dinner had almost been worth the trip to New Canton. It was unexpectedly nice to see Gray again, and it was unexpectedly interesting to see what Gray’s little sister had grown into.
She’d never been shy, at least not in the comfort zone of LeClarks, and he was glad to see she hadn’t developed any pretenses in the last fifteen years. She hadn’t pretended not to enjoy the wine, and when she learned that dinner was on him, had helped herself to two more glasses. She also hadn’t pretended when it came
