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“I know he's not your father. And I know you should give him a chance. I also know you're not gonna listen because you're a stubborn bonehead.”

I poked him in the ribs again, and when he was done giggling I settled back in, my head on his chest and my arm across his waist, the way we’d fallen asleep so many times over the years.

“I'm not the only stubborn bonehead around here,” I murmured as I let my eyes slip shut.

J.T. didn't answer, just trailed his fingertips up and down my arm, keeping his secrets and holding me close as we both fell asleep.

Chapter Six

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So, we're agreed.” Tenn tapped his pen on the resume between us.

I sat back, staring down at the cream linen page with the name Forrest Powell printed at the top. “I like him. He's got the experience, and he seems ready for a new challenge.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “The real question is do you like him? Are you sure you're okay with this?”

Tenn dropped his pen on top of Forrest’s resume and sat back. “I told you I'm good with it. You've been restless for a while. I get why you didn't want to work with Dad. Fuck, Ford was the only one who could put up with him.”

“Griffen is different. He's not Dad.”

Tenn barked out a laugh. “No shit. For one thing, he's not a raging asshole. He did skip out on us for fifteen years—”

“He didn’t exactly ‘skip out’ on us.”

I’d never forget the sight of my oldest brother walking down the long drive from Heartstone Manor, a worn backpack slung over his shoulder. It was the last we’d seen of him until the day we buried our father.

“I know Dad threw him out,” Tenn said with a jerk of his shoulder. “But he could have come back.”

“Maybe we should have tried to stop him from going in the first place.”

There was no maybe about it. We should have stopped it. It was easy to forget that I’d been only seventeen at the time, Tenn and Avery barely fifteen, and the others just children. Except Ford. He’d already been working with Griffen and our father.

None of us had expected Ford to be the architect of Griffen’s exile. Growing up, they’d been closer than brothers. The idea that one would betray the other was unthinkable.

Ford had done it. In one afternoon, Ford had gone from the second son to our father’s right-hand man, complete with his ring on the finger of Griffen’s fiancée. And Griffen had disappeared.

“It’s ancient history,” Tenn said, “and there’s nothing we can do to change it. Griffen’s home now. If he’s willing to bring you into Sawyer Enterprises, you should do it. It’s what you want. Anyway, we’re better off with someone on the inside keeping an eye on him. Just in case he’s looting the company or running it into the ground.”

“Griffen isn’t going to loot Sawyer Enterprises.” I shifted in my seat, not liking the idea of spying on Griffen.

Tenn jerked his shoulder again and looked out the window. “You don’t know that. And we don’t really know him.”

Tenn was right. We didn’t really know him. But Griffen had been more than fair to all of us since he’d been back. We didn’t have any reason to think he was up to no good.

Tenn knew me better than anyone on earth. We’d taken over The Inn at Sawyers Bend as a team and had spent the last decade making it the thriving resort it was today. I’d loved every minute of it, but lately, I’d found myself looking for more, for something new. I just didn't want to lose a brother in the process.

I should have known better. Tenn always had my back. “You'd have to pry me out of this place with a crowbar,” he said, “but that doesn't mean you have to stay here with me. I like your plan. We’ll hire this Forrest guy to take over for you, and you can split your time between The Inn and learning the ropes of Sawyer Enterprises with Griffen. If you like the way it's going we can always ease you out of The Inn completely if that's what you want. Or you can keep doing part-time on both. And if this guy doesn't work out, we’ll find somebody else.”

“I'm planning on mornings at The Inn and afternoons with Griffen and Hope, but I may need more flexibility, depending.”

Tenn waved his hand, dismissing the problem. “We'll work it out, man. Seriously, we have enough to worry about without you stressing over the schedule.”

He wasn't wrong. “Did West have anything to say about cockroach guy?”

“Nothing useful. It was exactly like the guy who shot at Griffen. He was paid, doesn't know who sent the money, yada yada.”


Tags: Ivy Layne The Hearts of Sawyers Bend Romance