Grace . . . but if you wanted to, you could even keep your business here.”
Grace let the idea sink in a moment. It would be cheaper by a long shot. And easier since she’d have free help. But was that the right thing to do? Would Molly’s plan to keep the inn even work?
“So . . . ?” Molly’s gaze toggled between Grace and Levi. “What do you think? Would you be willing to consider it?”
“Molly,” Levi said, “are you sure this is what you want? You’ve dreamed of Italy forever.”
“I know I have. It took me a while to see it, but—it was just really bothering me, the thought of those guys, of anybody else, really, running this place, changing things. I think I was actually trying to sabotage the sale—subconsciously, of course.” She gave them a guilty look. “Sorry. It took Adam to help me see that my dreams have changed. We’ve been talking about this since Thursday and I’m certain. Nothing would make me happier than to stay here in Bluebell and run this place. I love it so much.” She blinked away the tears that gathered in her eyes.
“I know you do,” Levi said. “To be honest, I was kind of dreading letting go of our home. It kind of felt like giving up another piece of Mom and Dad.”
“I have to admit I love the idea of you staying here with me. And keeping the house in the family.” Grace gave her sister a wry grin. “And I can totally see you bossing around a full staff and mothering the guests well into your golden years.”
Molly sniffled. “You know me so well.”
“You were born to run this place, Molly,” Grace said.
Adam gave his wife a side hug. “So we’re all agreed? We buy you guys out?”
Grace’s eyes connected with Levi’s. They exchanged an entire conversation in a five-second span.
And then they said simultaneously, “We’re in.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Wyatt stood guard beside Ethan inside the opulent dining room in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. He kept watch over the men in the room, but the real danger was outside where the other agents stood guard.
Around a long, oval table sat the US secretary of state, Malaysian officials, and interpreters. At the other end of the table some kind of golden seal was inlaid in the wall and flanked by the two countries’ flags. The conversation went in one of Wyatt’s ears and out the other as he watched for potential threats to the secretary of state.
The delicious aroma wafting Wyatt’s way made his stomach give a hard growl. He was going on seventeen hours without a meal and twenty-four hours without sleep. But he took it all in stride; they’d been trained for deprivation.
They’d been on this mission for twenty-eight days, traveling across Asia on a foreign-policy mission. Wyatt had been coping well since he’d returned to work. He’d passed his psych eval with flying colors. He slept soundly when he was able to. He had his mojo back. Even Ethan had commented on it. He’d opened up to his friend about Bluebell and his revelations there.
It had taken Wyatt an additional two weeks, but over a game of pool back home, he’d also opened up about Grace. Ethan listened patiently, taking shots across the table without comment. Wyatt finished his story with, “So . . . I left. What else could I do?”
Ethan had been conspicuously silent on the matter.
How could his friend even relate? He was happily married with two little girls. He had the love of his life. Wyatt hadn’t brought up Grace again.
The meal with the Malaysian officials dragged on and on. He was grateful to be posted in here rather than outside though. Being on high alert for so many hours was stressful, and nobody was at his best when he’d gone so long without sleep.
He fought a yawn. He’d catch a nap and, hopefully, a meal on the plane ride to Singapore.
Finally the meeting seemed to be winding up. A Malaysian official stood, followed by another. Greetings were exchanged and others stood, their movements putting Wyatt on high alert. He watched each man’s body language, looking for hands in pockets or other suspicious actions.
It wasn’t until he was inside the plane that he was finally able to let down his guard.
Wyatt awakened forty minutes after he closed his eyes, groggy and still hungry, even after the tray of food he’d scarfed down. Beside him, Ethan was staring out the window at the landscape.