Love Redefined by Delancey Stewart

Author:Delancey Stewart [Stewart, Delancey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780996342193
Published: 2018-06-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Chance

I led Finn and Mike to my truck, and drove them into the little village behind Kings Grove with a strange feeling of pride building inside me. When I’d met Rebecca, it was different—I was interested in putting everything I’d been, everything I’d come from, behind me. But with Mike? Kings Grove was inherent to whatever lay between us, and the magic that infused my hometown was part of the thing growing between us. I was proud of my home, of this place, and I wanted her to love it. When I glanced over to see the quiet smile on her lips as I guided the truck slowly over the little roads between the cabins, I could see she already did.

“It’s so charming,” she said, watching out the window.

“It does have a kind of rustic charm,” I agreed.

“These houses,” she said, her voice almost reverent. “They’re just so unique and colorful. Finn, look at the little blue A-frame.”

I drove slowly as Mike and Finn commented on the different shapes and styles of mountain homes. Many of the cabins around the central meadow of Kings Grove’s residential village were small and basic. Lots of them were like the one Sam and I had grown up in, constructed in additions and phases over many decades and upgraded as things like electricity and indoor plumbing became commonplace. But there were a few other houses that were far from rustic. I made a little detour and approached the top of a gravel drive, where the village’s most notable house seemed to perch on a rock, half of the house appearing to grow out of solid granite.

“Oh my God, that’s incredible,” Mike breathed.

“It’s like a rock house!” Finn said. “Did the rock fall on it?”

“That’s Connor and Maddie’s place. He had it built around that huge boulder.” It was a great example of the way a luxury home could embrace the rustic location, and I wanted Mike to see it. If Kings Grove was good enough for an internationally bestselling author like Connor Charles, surely it’d be good enough for the folks who stayed at McLaren resorts.

I turned around, hoping Connor wouldn’t mind me showing off his house, and headed back around the meadow to where my house—and Sam’s—sat on a large level lot on a road just behind the central meadow. Our property was one of the closest to the forest and the ridgeline where the fire had burned the summer before last, which was part of the reason ours had been the only property burned.

“We just finished these two houses,” I told Mike and Finn as I pulled around to the house at the far edge of the lot, passing Miranda and Sam’s place on our left. “We decided that two decades of sharing space was probably enough, so instead of rebuilding our old family cabin, we upgraded a bit.”

“I’ll say,” Mike breathed, taking in the soaring front of the wood and stone house I’d built for myself. Sam and Miranda had been inside for a while, so the two stories of windows glowed a welcoming golden yellow.

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