Covering my eyes with a hand I admit, “Maybe? My brother and Ezra liked to play tricks on me when they were in high school.”
Asher takes a seat next to me on the sofa, dressed now, thankfully. He’s wearing navy blue-and-green plaid pajama pants and a beige shirt withDaisy Lakewritten in distressed font across his chest. “Oh?” He cocks a brow. “What did they do?”
“Stupid shit like altering my report cards to make it look like I’d gotten C’s and D’s. Then they’d laugh when I’d run to my room and cry.”
“That’s awful,” he says through a grin.
“Yeah. They could be jerks, but they were also my protectors, you know?”
He nods thoughtfully. “I can see that. Ezra is super protective of my sister. Bea too. That girl loves her Uncle Ezra.”
“Do you think they’ll get married? For real this time.”
Last summer Ezra begged Millie to pretend to be his wife so he could prove a point to his asshole father. She resisted at first, but when she discovered she’d get a free trip to Hawaii out of it, she changed her mind quickly. The whole idea was ridiculous, but it turns out the phrase “fake it till you make it” really does work.
“They’ll definitely get married.”
“How do you know?”
“Let’s just say my daughter cannot keep a secret.” He winks and tosses back his beer. “So, Doc,” he says, changing the subject. “What made you wanna become a…”
“Doc?” Smiling, I bring my glass to my lips, and while I contemplate my answer, I take a slow sip. “It was a combination of a few things. My parents were strict. Cam and I grew upunderstanding that if we didn’t work for Hotel Connelly, then we were expected to become either a doctor, a lawyer, or an engineer. Engineering never appealed to me, and I don’t enjoy confrontation or debates. That left medicine. Plus, my mom really struggled after my sister died.”
Asher sucks in a breath. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”
“She was two weeks old. I was six. I don’t remember Chloe. But my mom was not well after that. I don’t remember much of that either, but Cam does. He was ten. Somewhere along the way, I realized I wanted to help people. Doctors help people, and since it was one of my parents’ approved careers, I went with it.”
Asher nods, then juts his chin toward my empty glass. “Do you want more?”
I pass it over, and he retreats to the kitchen to pour more wine and grab another beer for himself.
“What about you?” I ask. “Did you always want to run a family summer camp and retreat center?”
He hands me the glass, then settles on the cushion, his knee accidentally bumping against mine. We’re facing one another, resting our sides against the back of the cushions.
“Not really. Architecture always interested me as a kid,” he says. “In college, I homed in on civil engineering and architecture.”
A little laugh escapes me. “My parents would love you.”
He grins, but there’s an uneasiness just below the surface.
Realizing my faux pas, I quickly ask, “What does a civil engineer do exactly?”
“Basically builds environments to satisfy societal needs,” he replies. “My degree came in handy with the retreat center, though most of my work here is on the business and management side of things.”
“Does that bother you? Going to school for all those years and not utilizing your degree?”
“Not really. I fell in love with… I fell in love with this place, and that was that.”
“What about your wife?” I ask.
He stills. “What about her?”
“Did she go to school?”
“Yup.” He dips his chin. “That’s how we met. In the engineering department.”
“Oh, she was an engineer too?”
