He understood the feeling. Down to the bone. Walking out of the kitchen that first day, he might’ve stood there for an hour. The view still stole his breath—when he let it.
“That’s why I bought the place,” he said, walking back to stand with her. He had an incredible view of Charleston harbor. On a clear day, it was obvious how White Point Garden at the tip of the peninsula got its name. To the left, the brackish water of the convergence of two rivers and the ocean lapped gently at the shore. “You should see it at night from the dock.”
Now why the hell had he said that?
“It’s…” Her voice trailed off for a long moment before her smile returned. “Wow.”
“When did you move to the island?” he asked.
Her eyes returned to the view. “I’m Brookwell born and raised. But this? I’ve never seen the harbor from this side of theisland. Aside from school field trips to the lighthouse or from the water.”
Oh, man. Was that why theBugleeditors were pushing so hard for the interview? Had they somehow learned the lighthouse ownership had shifted to him along with the Marion estate? His lawyers had assured him the records were separate and buried under miles of paperwork. The reasoning might look sketchy, but it was mostly temporary. He didn’t need the locals pressuring him about his plans for that parcel of prime real estate while he was trying to navigate a multi-million dollar merger.
Digby barked his displeasure at being ignored and Seb jumped on the distraction. “I need to clean him up.” Going to war with the dog would set him back hours, but it had to be done.
“I’ll do it for you.” She raised her dirt-stained hands. “It helps both of us.”
“What’s the catch?” He folded his arms.
“Answer three of Vince’s questions.” She bounced on her toes. “Plus a quick tour of the interior.”
“A hard bargain.”
That smile bloomed across her face, mesmerizing him. He could almost hear the gears turning in her head, filing away the details of his disheveled state for colorful commentary in the article. He should have taken the dog and closed the gate without asking her anything. Just set that standard of being the aloof bastard from the start.
Instead, he was playing host to a woman who looked like a literal ray of sunshine and smelled like citrus and salt air when he should be working.
“Of course, there’s one more thing I can offer, if you promise to answerfivequestions, Mr. Sterling.”
He rolled his eyes. “Call me Seb. And what are you talking about?”
“I can tell you how to stop Digby’s escapes.”
Now she had his full attention. Among the many responsibilities he was currently juggling, any trouble or harm to Digby would be the end of him. His sister loved the little dog more than anything else in the world. Including Seb.
And despite their typical sibling nonsense, he would never hurt her.
Digby whined and Seb picked him up, keeping the leash attached. “Once he figures out the b-a-t-h is imminent, he turns into a Tasmanian devil.” That alone would be worth the price of letting her deeper into his space.
“I can handle it.”
He doubted that. “We’ll see. But you’ve got a deal.”
“Great. I’ll wash my hands first.” She walked over to join him in the shade. “Then I can bathe him while you find a way to prevent another escape.”
“How is that?” Seb looked around. “How is he getting out?” When he searched earlier, he hadn’t found a space big enough for Digby to squeeze through.
She pulled out her voice recorder, turning it on and stating the date, time, and his name. “Mr. Sterling, what is it about Brookwell that appeals to you?”
He appreciated the slow-pitch start. And he was desperate to protect Digby. Or maybe protect himself from his sister’s wrath. “Do you know Lucy Benson?”
“The lead singer for Wish Blender?” Holly’s eyebrows lifted. “I wish. She’s one of my favorite performers.”
Seb nodded in complete agreement. “She’s a good friend of mine. I started looking at property here on her recommendation. In fact, I visited once last year.”
“Really? I don’t remember hearing about it. Pretty sure you’re the type who would’ve stayed at the Inn.”
He chose to be amused rather than offended. As if he didn’t have a certain expertise in traveling without drawing attention. “Is that another question?”
