In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes (The Queen’s Cove Series Book 3)
In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes: Chapter 3

AFTER THE WEIRD parade to celebrate our inheritance was over, I watched as Holden stomped off to go glare at newborn puppies or whatever he did in his spare time.

Elizabeth’s hand landed on my shoulder and she studied me with a soft smile. “It’s so good to see you, sweetie.”

Every fall, Katherine visited me in Toronto, and last year, Elizabeth had joined. We spent the weekend wandering the city, visiting street festivals, shopping, touring art galleries, and eating and drinking at all my favorite restaurants. The summer I stayed here, Elizabeth had me over for weekly dinners with her family.

“You, too,” I told her, and it was the truth. Elizabeth was one of those people who glowed with energy and love.

Unlike Holden.

“How’s wedding planning going?”

My stomach froze into a block of ice.

I still felt sick every time I thought about what happened. I hadn’t told Katherine because I didn’t want her to worry.

“Well,” I started, unsure of how to break the news.

I should have practiced this on the drive out. My throat worked and I sucked a breath in before shooting Elizabeth a bright smile that said I am totally fine.

“Things didn’t really work out with Grant.”

The understatement nearly made me laugh, and I played with the end of my ponytail, a nervous habit of mine. Shame knotted through my stomach.

Her face fell. “Oh, no. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

“We weren’t a good fit.”

Because he stole two hundred thousand dollars from me.

Because he gave me a fake name, swept me off my feet, and encouraged me to follow my dreams of starting my own interior design firm.

Because he asked me to marry him before he took everything from me.

Because I trusted him and I was so, so wrong.

My throat worked again and I crossed my arms. “We wanted different things.”

She tilted her head, studying me. “Was it for the best?”

A sharp laugh scraped out of my throat. I had learned my lesson. My judgement in men was flawed.

“Yes. How’s your family?” Anything to get off this topic.

A huge smile lifted onto her face. “They’re wonderful. My family gets bigger every year, with both Emmett and Wyatt getting married recently.”

I smiled at the memory of the oldest brother, arrogant but charming Emmett. He and Holden started a construction company in their twenties, but he stepped back two years ago to become mayor of Queen’s Cove. Holden’s younger brother, Wyatt, all laid-back confidence, was a professional surfer. The youngest Rhodes boy, Finn, was mischievous and daring, and spent most of the summer I visited with his best friend and next-door neighbor, Olivia. And then there was Holden, the dickhead brother.

An unfairly hot dickhead, but still an asshole to his core.

I thought back to his unreadable expression in the conference room when we learned of our inheritance. He was miserable at the news.

Of course he was. He couldn’t stand me. He couldn’t be in the same room with me for ten minutes before he practically kicked the door down to get out.

“Are you staying in town for long?” Elizabeth asked as we walked to my car.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” I frowned. “But now I’m not sure.”

She smiled. “You know you have a place to stay if you need it.”

My heart twisted. Elizabeth was so freaking nice. “I know. Thanks. I’m going to look around the inn, if that’s okay.”

She laughed. “It’s your inn, honey.”

“Right.” I winced. This was going to take some getting used to.

She pulled me into another hug. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

I nodded and we parted ways before I drove back to the inn.

TEN MINUTES LATER, I parked and got out of my car.

Forested mountains enclosed the inn, and the yard led down to the ocean. The water stretched out to the horizon, sparkling in the late afternoon sun. Waves crashed on the shore. Above me, blue sky as far as I could see. Katherine always said September was her favorite month here on the west coast.

Nostalgia hit me square in the chest, sad and sweet. Damn, I missed her.

I made my way up the path and onto the porch. It creaked under me and I remembered when I used to lounge out here in the afternoons, painting my nails and reading magazines. Katherine would join me out here sometimes with a design magazine, those big, heavy ones that took ages to flip through, and I’d try to memorize and learn from them.

This porch was where she taught me to paint. It was where I realized I wanted to be an interior designer.

When I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the foyer was quiet and cool. Nostalgia rushed at me as I took in the photographs and paintings on the wall, the side table with a vase and a mirror in front of the door. The inn was more of a bed-and-breakfast, a giant house converted so each of the six guest rooms upstairs had a bathroom.

Floorboards creaked as I wandered down the hall. Downstairs, the sitting room faced the ocean, with the couches arranged for people to watch the sunrise or sunset through the giant windows. Mismatched, old furniture and walls overloaded with frames and paintings gave the inn a homey, eclectic vibe. The dining area was the same, a handful of small tables with a view of the forest.

I had forgotten about the original wood floors, scuffed and scratched but still warm and beautiful. The arched doorway between the dining room and the hallway. The built-in bookshelves in the sitting room. Holden had built those the summer I stayed here.

Irritation pinched my stomach at the memory. I had asked him if he needed help and he told me to go away.

The inn even smelled the same—the mix of cedar, old books, and the lavender-vanilla room spray she used. I heaved in a breath and sighed it out.

When I found the main floor bathroom, I laughed out loud.

Oh my god. These tiles. Dark brown and orange, with a brown sink and laminate counter. Katherine hated this bathroom, and I had totally forgotten about it. She had these grand renovation ideas since she bought the place thirty years ago but it was never the right time, there was never enough extra cash, or the tourist season was busy and she didn’t want to disrupt it, so they got pushed and pushed until she got sick, and she stopped talking about renovations altogether.

“You’ll help me redesign the place, won’t you, Sadie?” she had asked a couple summers ago while visiting me. I had just been promoted at the hotel chain where I worked as an interior designer.

“Of course,” I had told her.

I wrinkled my nose at the brown tiles.

In the hallway, I studied Katherine’s photos on the walls, smiling as I recognized faces. There was one of me and her from that summer. There was one of Katherine, Elizabeth, and Elizabeth’s sister, Bea. There was one of the four Rhodes boys. My gaze lingered on serious, silent Holden.

In the photo, he was in his early twenties. The same intense glare I saw all summer, same sharp jawline, broad shoulders, and thick, unruly brown hair. Same piercing gray eyes that made my stomach flutter with anticipation.

A shiver rolled down my back but I shook it off.

Upstairs, I opened the first bedroom door and let out a loud laugh.

“Yikes.”

How could I forget this wallpaper? Pastel pink with thousands of dancing flowers assaulted my eyes. The bed! I clapped a hand over my mouth, smothering my laugh. A colossal, mahogany four-poster bed sucked all the energy out of the room. It looked like something from medieval times, with huge blocky bedside tables and a dresser the size of a church altar.

Even though I knew they were all the same, I wandered from room to room. Now that I had worked as an interior designer for almost seven years, I could see the huge furniture made the room seem smaller and distracted from the fireplace between the windows.

This place had so much potential. Each room had a fireplace with a timeless stone mantle. I could picture this room in a different light, with neutral walls hung with art of photographs, sleek furniture, and a comfy bed with a fluffy white duvet and giant pillows. A chair beside the fireplace to read in during cold evenings.

Each ensuite bathroom was the same brown and orange color palette as downstairs. I winced.

As I wandered down the hall, a funny feeling panged through my chest. I should have visited more. Like with renovations, it was never a good time. I was either in school or working or had used up all my yearly vacation, and Katherine visited me yearly.

Besides, this town was boring. There wasn’t much to do that summer, especially because I had no one to hang out with. Emmett, Wyatt, and Finn were all working during the day, and Holden made sure I knew how unwelcome I was.

I opened the door to Katherine’s room at the end of the hall and my heart squeezed. Same floral wallpaper as the other rooms, the same heavy furniture, but this room had an adjoining alcove she used as her office, with a desk in front of a window overlooking the ocean. I walked over to the window and gazed out at the gorgeous view.

The morning’s events replayed in my head. I now owned this inn with Holden. I also had two hundred thousand dollars of debt waiting for me back in Toronto, no job, and a broken heart. My fiancé was on the run and I had legal bills to pay.

I needed money. I needed to get back to Toronto so I could fix my life.

I had no idea what to do next.

My phone buzzed with an incoming call and I read the screen.

It was the private investigator I had hired to find Grant so I could get my money back. My pulse picked up and my stomach squeezed up into my throat. I’d been waiting for news from him.

“Hello?”

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