But it still wasn’t enough to save her store. He yearned to do more.
Most wouldn’t understand why helping Ava save her business mattered so much to him. But he felt certain Grandpa would’ve done the same in his position. Brayden released a sigh so heavy Elsie looked up at him. “Wish you could’ve met him, girl. He would’ve liked you.”
Elsie’s tail wagged leisurely as she followed him to his bedroom. She curled up on the edge of his bed as he showered and got dressed.
Helping Ava’s store had also been a welcome distraction from a future he wasn’t ready to dwell on. One thatshouldeventually mean saying goodbye to his quiet, comfortable life in Sunset Ridge and taking over a corporation once his mother retired. He promised as much when he left, but the desire to abandon his new life was nonexistent. He liked it here.
Part of him never wanted to leave.
No one in this cozy Alaska town knew who he really was, or that his net worth included eight figures. Though he did keep to himself more than most, the townsfolk were friendly and accepted him as one of their own. The locals loved his handcrafted bookshelves, desks, and nightstands, and it allowed him to hone skills his late grandpa had taught him.
Coming from a fast-paced lifestyle, Sunset Ridge granted him a rare opportunity to slow down and realize what he’d been taking for granted while working every waking hour. That’s why he loved it here. No heavy expectations weighed on his shoulders. No intense deadlines hovered over him. No pressure to prepare to take over the family business existed.
Never mind that Mom wasn’t planning to retire for two more years. She expected him not only to visit for this holiday, but to show up with a moving truck. She was tired of his absence and what she considered to be a frivolous waste of time. She’d allowed him to mourn and reevaluate his life, and she was having no more of it. This fake relationship might buy him a little more time before the inevitable decision. Or it might completely backfire.
But Brayden wasn’t ready to return to Texas.
He might not ever be ready.
For years, he operated on autopilot, working around the clock to help grow the family marketing firm into the multi-million-dollar national success it had become. Even after his grandpa passed, he threw himself into his work to ward off the grief. Grandma’s pleading for him to take time off and take a step back went ignored.
Until a near-death experience changed everything.
He shouldn’t even be alive, but he was. That final sign too obvious to ignore, he finally heeded Grandma’s advice. Once cleared from the hospital, he packed his truck and headed north to the small town his grandparents honeymooned at decades ago. Mom thought he was off his rocker driving all the way to Alaska by himself in winter. He went anyway.
He’d hoped the trip up the Alcan Highway would help him figure everything out. But the scenic days-long drive left him with more questions than answers.
Seven days after leaving Texas, Brayden arrived at the Sunset Ridge Lodge and prayed they had an open room. The Whitmore sisters loved the honeymoon story topped off with the postcard with worn edges Grandma gave him for the trip.
Brayden expected to stay a few days. Maybe a couple of weeks.
The longer he decided not to check out, the less he wanted to leave at all.
“C’mon, Elsie. We have a coffee table to work on.” The golden’s tail wagged, her nose pointed at the treat canister next to the coffee maker. “Okay,one. You’ve already had three today. Four if you snuck over to Ava’s earlier, which we both know you did.”
Elsie tilted her head, doe eyes staring at him in innocence. He tossed her a treat then filled a travel mug with the leftover coffee.
During his second week in Sunset Ridge, Brayden happened across an opportunity to purchase a rental property. Then another. Weeks turned into months as he quietly bought up the houses under an LLC. He didn’t need the passive income, but it felt good to know he could make ends meet without a dime of his family’s money.
The added bonus was that he was giving neglected homes a second chance. His grandpa had always been a big advocate of giving back in big but quiet ways to small communities. Not even Ava knew Brayden was her landlord, and he liked it that way. Only his realtor and property manager knew he was the CEO of Northern Lights Properties.
After slipping on his coat, he opened the sliding-glass door and Elsie trotted out onto the deck. The freshly fallen snow covered only some of her early morning paw prints that led to Ava’s back door. His next door neighbor definitely had a soft spot for his dog. “She’s not home,” he told the dog when she stared down the joined deck in contemplation. “C’mon. We have work to do.”
When he came across this duplex with the woodworking shed in its backyard several months ago, he not only bought the property but moved into one side the day he closed on the duplex. The private acreage surrounded by trees with its central location was perfect. It allowed Brayden to stay hidden as often as he liked, right smack dab in the middle of town.
He adopted Elsie from a shelter the day after he settled in and lost himself to one woodworking project after another until that too became a business. Working with his hands instead of through conference calls and emails made him feel closer to the grandpa he’d lost. Had Ava Monroe not signed the lease to move into the other side of the duplex, he might never have come up for air.
He liked it here.
He had a life here. Friends. Purpose. One he wasn’t eager to abandon. But lately, Mom had been less than patient with his choices. She wanted him back home where he belonged. Home and married. His mother’s idea of a notice of intent that he wouldn’t decide to make Alaska his permanent residence. He knew she wouldn’t officially announce her retirement until he was settled in Texas.
Inside the shed, he lit the woodstove as Elsie settled into her bed. But before he could gather his tools, his phone buzzed. A string of text messages about his responsibilities to his family filled his screen. Mom on one of her tirades again. “I’m not coming home,” he mumbled to the phone, resisting the urge to text back.
More than anything, he loved the freedom to work on his projects at any hour. Sometimes, he worked all through the night and slept half the day away. It was glorious not to be controlled by a strict schedule. To get lost in a process done by hand rather than chasing down the next high-dollar portfolio. He didn’t have to pitch his products because they sold themselves. And if they didn’t sell, it didn’t matter.
Settling into a rolling stool with sandpaper in hand, he got to work on the coffee table a local teacher requested as a gift for her sister.
He liked this slower pace. He liked Sunset Ridge for its gift of allowing him to hide from the world while he reevaluated his life. If he had his way, he’d never return to reality at all.
