Where Your Heart Is (Lilac Bay Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

expansive, white Victorian dating all the way back to the late eighteen hundreds, the house had been in the Powell family for generations. I knew that stepping inside would reveal creaking floors, drafty windows, and small, closed in rooms, all covered in the kind of dark, intricate woodwork popular many, many decades ago—a far cry from the modern, open floor plans and soaring high ceilings in the properties my firm developed. But it was all too easy to overlook those flaws from here. If I closed my eyes, I could practically see Posey, the other cousins, and me running across the wrap-around porch while our grandparents and parents sipped lemonade and half-heartedly told us to settle down. Posey and I had created a thousand fairy stories about Lilac Ridge, with its steep gabled roof, charming bay windows, and turret rising above the second floor. I had always thought it the most beautiful house in the world.
    I glanced around the yard, smiling at the pile of bikes near the porch. That was something that hadn’t changed, either—there were always bikes in the yard, abandoned by grandkids or great-grandkids or any number of neighborhood children who had come by to play in the woods behind the house and maybe talk my grandmother out of some of her famous cherry fudge cookies. Next to the walkway, her prized tulips were beginning to poke their heads above ground, and I knew the yard would be a riot of color in a few short weeks.
    Never lasts though , I thought to myself, trying to remember that there was no need to romanticize the place. The seasons were shorter up here, spring seemingly over in the blink of an eye. Only winter seemed to stick around, endless and bitter cold. I didn’t know how they all got through it without going crazy. Eventually, the weather would be too bad for ferry service, effectively trapping most of the town here until Lake Michigan froze deeply enough to form an ice bridge. Isolated, freezing, and completely on their own. I shivered at the thought, reminding myself that there was no reason to think I would still be around by winter. I should be back in Chicago by then, some new, equally flashy job making me forget all about the old one.
    “You ready?” Posey asked, voice soft.
    I shook myself a little. “As I’ll ever be.”
    I followed her up the walk. Before we even reached the front porch, I could hear the noise from inside. An adult was laughing, loud and boisterous, the sound mingling with the squeals and laughter of little voices. Probably my cousin Greg’s kids. A shout for the kids to stop running. And my grandmother’s steady, musical voice, a warm hum that cut through the rest of the noise.
    “Jonathan, you get your fingers out of that pie,” Mimi Rose scolded as Posey opened the door.
    “Hello!” Posey called out. “Look who I brought!”
    I barely had a chance to glance around the foyer before it was filled with people. The kids came barreling in first, knocking Posey right into me. Before I could get my bearings, the entryway was filled with people. Posey hadn’t been exaggerating when she said everyone was coming. They were all there. My Aunt Deen and Uncle Marcus, Posey’s parents. Greg, their oldest, along with his wife Sage, attempting to save me from their kids assault. Pops and Mimi’s oldest, my Uncle Frank, was waving from the back of the crowd, an arm around his wife, Lindsey. Their twin boys, Edward and Andrew, along with Edward’s boyfriend, Zane. I was dizzy before I’d managed to say hello to half of them.
    “It’s so good to see you,” Posey’s mom whispered into my ear, hugging me close. I felt the strangest lump in my throat.
    “It’s good to see you, too, Auntie Deen,” I managed, hoping she couldn’t hear the shake in my voice. Gardenia, known as Deen to everyone except her mother, had always been one of my favorite relatives. My mom’s older sister was exactly the kind of aunt you wanted growing up because she had never quite managed the feat