Inheritance for Christmas (Holly Ridge Christmas #1)

10. Blake

10

BLAKE

I get the call from the lawyer as I grab a coffee around noon. Holly Beans is bustling with patrons, the baristas bearing jolly Santa hats behind the counters as they serve up lattes and call out orders, but I can’t get in the festive mood as I wait for my drink impatiently, eager to get back to my neglected jobs away from the Christmas tree farm.

The buzz of my cell distracts me from my never-ending thoughts on how I handled things with Avery, and I grab it out of the front pocket of my flannel shirt.

“Hands-On Holly Ridge. Blake speaking,” I intone lifelessly.

“Hi, Blake,” Alan Foggarty says brightly. “I’m calling from the law office. I want you to know the estate matter has been handled. The account has been closed, and I checked your father’s credit report to ensure there aren’t any outstanding debts to worry about. I can honestly say that the matter is closed.”

I exhale, leaning against the wall next to the door. “Thanks. Send me an invoice for your time.”

He chuckles. “Let’s call it a quid pro quo for the door frame. Anything else you need?”

“No…” I trail off. “Actually…”

“What is it?”

I press my lips together, suddenly unsure of myself.

Am I crossing a line with this?

“Let me get back to you,” I reply. “I might have something else for you.”

“You know where to find me,” he says. “But I can promise you officially it won’t be about your dad.”

“I sure hope not,” I grumble.

“Blake?” A barista in a lime green elf cap calls out my name, and I quickly hang up with the attorney, accepting the coffee.

Weaving through the throng of customers, I step onto the lightly snow-dusted street and peer up at the gray skies overhead.

These past three days away from Avery have been painful, to put it lightly. I’ve done my best to throw myself into work and get back into life like it was before she rolled into town, but it’s not the same, and I don’t think it ever will be again.

I feel like everything reminds me of her. Every time I see a red coat on the street, I think it’s her, every redhead, too. But when we cross paths at the farm, she makes it a point to busy herself behind the counter or with customers, our relationship strictly professional now. I don’t know what to say to make things less tense between us, but I know I made a mistake, and I have no idea how to make it right.

My feelings on the matter haven’t changed, but is there a middle ground here, a compromise which will protect Avery and satisfy my sense of doubt?

My gloved hands curl around the paper green and red specialty cup as I wander down Main Street, absently taking in the bright red bows on the lampposts in passing. My aimless walk takes me back through Holly Ridge Park as snow begins to fall again, the light flakes landing over my dirty jacket as I perch on one of the benches in front of the skating rink.

In the distance, moms roll down the low hills with their kids on sleds, their laughter ricocheting toward me. In my mind’s eye, I can see Avery on one in a few years with her own child, and the thought makes my ears warm.

My eyes land on one of the pine trees nearby, a pang of wistfulness shooting through me. If she were here, she would undoubtedly have some obscure fact about the tree to volunteer right now.

Out of the corner of my eye, a flash of blonde catches my peripheral vision. Sadie Brennan strolls past, chatting with an older woman, but the yoga instructor doesn’t see me. I sit forward, an idea stirring in me as she disappears down the path.

It feels like a sign, seeing Sadie here.

How much more work does the barn need to make it functional for classes and events?

I’m on my feet again, my stride purposeful as I head back downtown to where my truck is parked, a plan formulating in my head.

Avery blinks twice as I enter the store, surprise coloring her expression. “Oh… are you still working out here? I thought I’d paid your last invoice.”

I shake my head, closing the door behind me, and stride forward with the portfolio in my hand.

“No. I finished the repairs you asked me to do on the barn. I’m here about something else,” I tell her. “Do you have a minute?”

She eyes me warily, sinking back onto the stool behind the counter. “I’m just closing up,” she tells me slowly. “If it’s about your invoice, we can talk about it tomorrow, Blake. I’ve had a bit of a day.”

“It’s not.” I set the portfolio onto the countertop and peer at her. “It’s about us.”

A small grimace appears on her face. “There is no us, Blake. You made that pretty clear last week, didn’t you?”

It’s my turn to frown, and I hang my head slightly as I lean over the counter to face her. “What I said, I said from a place of personal experience, Avery, not from a place of disinterest. I care about you too much to see you suffer.”

“I get it.”

“I don’t think you do,” I sigh. “And I don’t think I can really explain it to you, either. You wouldn’t understand it unless you’ve experienced it for yourself.”

Her face softens. “I do get it,” she mutters. “You don’t want to get sucked into that again. But I haven’t changed my mind about keeping the property or the business, either. It’s a deal breaker between us, and it’s good that we understand that now, I guess. Before we got in too deep.” She looks at me sadly. “That doesn’t mean I don’t miss having you around here. It’s lonely without your cheesy jokes.”

I quirk a grin at her. “I miss you, too. Which is why I’ve been wracking my brain for a solution to this, and I think I’ve found it.”

Her eyebrow arches. “Really?” she asks dubiously. “I don’t see how…”

I open the portfolio, and she leans forward curiously. I draw closer to her, inhaling the sweet jasmine perfume that I’ve been craving so much. My chest tightens.

“Is this a business plan?” she asks skeptically.

I nod, laying out the pages. “I’ve been speaking with some of the vendors in town, and they would be willing to rent out the barn once it’s outfitted properly, like you suggested. Sadie Brennan was really interested in the idea of running her yoga classes out of the barn.”

Avery gawks at me. “You spoke to her?” she gasps. “I was going to do that!”

“I know. It was your idea,” I agree quickly. “And I made sure she knew that. She suggested running a farmer’s market also, and it got me thinking about the store.”

I pull out more papers and show her the blueprints and expansion ideas for the Holly Forest Store. “You could add booths for the local vendors to sell their homemade crafts here, like they do at Tasty Harvest with the local artwork. The store and barn would run year-round, the Christmas tree farm would be seasonal. Eventually, though, you might consider planting different trees in the forest. You do know a lot about trees. Maybe you could start an orchard.”

Avery’s eyes widen. “I never thought of that…”

“Mark Kinrade did have a point about there being a lot of land here. It could be put to better use. Eventually, more buildings could go up, but that’s getting a little ahead of ourselves.”

Avery’s mouth is fully agape now.

“I… I don’t know what to say to all this,” she mutters, staring back down at the plan in awe. “You’ve been at this for days!”

I shrug. “I wanted to iron out the details and make sure I had community support before coming to you.”

To my surprise, she frowns. “But it won’t work,” she says. “All of this will take capital to get going, and I just don’t have the money, Blake. The farm isn’t showing nearly enough profit to get a loan from the bank yet.”

“Maybe it will with a successful business partner,” I suggest quietly.

Her head jerks up in shock, and she pulls back, eying me accusingly. “You want me to go into business with Mark Kinrade?” she demands, upset clouding her eyes.

I laugh lightly. “No, Avery.” I take the pages from her and set them down on the counter, holding her hands in mine. “Go into business with me.”

“What?!”

I squeeze her fingers. “I’ve managed to put a bit of savings away, and my company has been doing well for years. I’ll be able to secure a loan for the farm, and we can do all the renovations to get the ball rolling around here.”

Dubiously, she shakes her head. “But you’re worried this is going to fail! What if you lose all your money?”

My hands tighten around hers, and I shake my head. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I really believed that,” I tell her honestly. “Your determination has convinced me that this can work. But we’ll be cautious and move slowly. We won’t bite off more than we can chew, and we’ll incorporate the farm to protect ourselves. In other words, we’ll take all the necessary precautions to make sure we don’t get hurt, okay?”

Excitement replaces her uncertainty as she studies my face. “You would really do this?” she asks, circling around the counter, still holding my hands.

I nod, swallowing. “If I hadn’t been so fixated on my dad, I probably would have come up with this earlier,” I admit. “A little space and reflection gave me perspective. And the fact that I don’t want to lose you.”

Avery’s eyes haze over. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” she breathes. “Thank you for doing all this.”

She tips her head back, and I smile down at her, my shoulders relaxing as I release a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My lips brush against hers, and Avery cups my face with her hands tenderly, drawing me closer toward her.

As we part, she continues to stare at me, and I catch a shadow of worry still lingering on her face.

“Are you still having doubts?” I ask unhappily.

She shakes her head. “Not about you,” she replies, looking away. “About Christmas. It’s in a few days.”

I tip her head back toward me. “What about it?” I ask softly.

“My mom’s not coming from Austin. She thinks I’m an idiot for staying here and running the farm.”

Brushing a strand of red hair out of her face, I peer at her pensively. “Do you want to go home for Christmas?”

Avery’s mouth parts, her brow knitting. “Home?” she repeats. “I am home. Holly Ridge has always been more home to me than anywhere else in the world, even before my parents got divorced.”

Her answer fills me with pleasure, and I can’t hide my smile as I envelop her in a hug. “Then what’s wrong?”

She tips her head back to look at me solemnly, her vivid green eyes meeting mine. “I don’t want to spend Christmas alone,” she admits.

I stroke her cheek. “You won’t be alone,” I promise. “You’ll have me. Me and my deep fried turkey.”

Avery laughs aloud, pulling back to take me in fully. “Really? Deep fried turkey?” she demands. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now.”

I nod solemnly. “It’s a Markham family secret. I have to carry on the Christmas tradition.”

Amusement lights her entire face as she snuggles back into my arms, resting her head against my chest. “Who am I to mess with tradition?” she murmurs, the stress of her body melting away in my arms. For the first time in a long time, I have genuine hope for the future, and I know I have Avery to thank for that.