Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“They can be. But Baird sees you for more than that, My. When he looks at you, he’s really looking at you. And he very much likes what he sees.”
Had Baird really been that obvious? Had I really been that blind? “Really?”
“Yes. You know I would never steer you wrong. So, when he tells you that he’s wanted a real relationship with you from the moment you met, I believe him. I think if you dig deep enough, you do too.”
BAIRD
The sea air ruffled my hair as we stood on the balcony off the second-floor ballroom, staring out toward the coast and the sea beyond. Blantyre Castle and Estate had captured my and Callan’s attention because of its location. Close to the city but on the coast. Views from the bedrooms and public rooms. Large, manicured grounds.
Thankfully, the grounds had been maintained over the years, so it was just about upkeep. However, expensive things hadn’t been updated. Like the roof and plumbing and electrical. Since walls and floors needed to be ripped up, that meant there was also a massive level of redecoration and restoration currently in progress. The construction of the spa building on the west of the property was also well underway. Once it was all completed and we came up with a solid marketing plan, we intended Blantyre to become the ultimate luxury destination.
“What do you think?” John asked at my side.
“It’s on track, looking good.”
“Lads.”
We turned to find Braden Carmichael and Callan standing in the ballroom, dust sheets and scaffolding everywhere.
“Lunch is being served on the terrace.” Braden gave a jerk of his chin and turned. Callan fell into step beside him, and John and I followed.
John chatted about the spa construction. Up ahead Callan said something that made Braden laugh. The older man squeezed the back of Callan’s neck in a fatherly gesture.
I smiled to myself, happy for Callan. When Beth turned out to be his neighbor, I knew his antagonistic response to the gorgeous woman from his past meant something. I’d been a bit of a fucker and tried to push him toward her, with whatever means necessary. Including making him jealous by flirting my arse off with her.
Finally, they’d gotten their shit together, started a casual thing that anyone with a brain could see was going to blow up in their faces. I’d never seen my best mate so gone for a woman. It was a relief to all involved when Beth and Callan admitted they were in love and got engaged.
The bonus for Callan was Beth’s parents. My mate had lost his mum and stepdad when he was a teenager. His dad was the shittiest dad that existed. He was so bad, it made me glad mine was in the fucking wind. Braden was an overprotective father and was slow to trust anyone with Beth. But he was a good guy. He recognized Callan was serious about her. And since he knew Callan’s dad from back in the day, he also knew what Callan had to deal with. He’d set aside protective dad mode and set about making Callan feel like a son.
For that alone, Braden would have my loyalty and thanks. The fact that his experience in the business world and in real estate was making our investment in Blantyre worthwhile was second to what he’d done for Callan personally.
“Your mind is elsewhere,” John observed, hands in his pockets as we walked through the castle and onto the grounds where a table had been laid out. Servers waited to serve us lunch. This was the life, eh?
“Just wondering if you’re happy?” I responded, not untruthfully.
My friend sighed. “I’m not going to lie to you and say I’m not depressed about not playing … but I’m into this.” He gestured around us. “More than I thought I’d be. And it is the smarter avenue to invest my energy in. Football players retire early even when there are teams clambering to sign them.”
That they did. Which was why Callan and I had started our property management business five years ago, making sure we invested our six-figure contract money into something that would last beyond our football years.
I’d always assumed I would retire in my late thirties either because I’d aged out or because of injury.
Now I wasn’t so sure about anything. Especially after finally admitting my fears out loud to Maia.
We took a seat at the table with Callan and Braden. Callan’s soon-to-be father-in-law was tall, broad of shoulder, thick of biceps. There was no middle-aged belly to be found on the bloke. The guy was kind of my hero. I saw women checking him out all the time, even though he didn’t so much as glance at them. I wouldn’t either with a sexy wife like his. Not that I’d say that to his face. I’d learned the hard way when I flirted with Joss Carmichael at one of their house parties. Braden Carmichael was possessive, even decades into their marriage. He’d given me a look that might have killed a lesser man. And when I’d responded, “Got it. No flirt-y without permission-y,” Joss had gently shoved me away and whisper-shouted, “Run. Save yourself.”