head but then a grin split her face. “Never mind. That name actually fits.”
Carrie felt that strange tightening of her chest again. It would be simpler if the only thing she felt for Dylan was animosity. The way her body had reacted to him added a complication to the equation she didn’t want. “You don’t need to be involved. Dylan is my problem, which means—”
“You’re stuck with us,” Meredith interrupted. “We’re with you all the way.”
“What she said,” Avery added with a gentle smile.
“Thanks.” Carrie took a deep breath. She had to believe she could get through anything with her sisters at her side.
CHAPTER THREE
DYLAN WALKED DOWN Magnolia’s main street the following morning, trying to stop his heart from hammering out of his chest. Memories rushed at him from every angle. Even the cracks in the sidewalk seemed familiar. Sitting in his office overlooking Boston Harbor, the real estate deal had seemed like a viable option to course correct his and Sam’s lives in the wake of so much unexpected tragedy.
Now he wondered if the move back to his hometown had been a mistake. His defenses rallied against the flood of emotions that came with reestablishing himself in such a familiar setting. Memories zinged toward him from every side, like a thousand pinballs pummeling his insides.
“This place sucks,” Sam muttered next to him, slouching his shoulders more than seemed possible without actually folding in on himself.
The boy’s typical negativity made Dylan’s heart ache. He forced a cheerful tone as he asked, “What are you talking about?” He gestured to the festively decorated window of the town’s local hardware store. “It’s like a holiday decoration tornado touched down right here. Magnolia has more Christmas spirit than the North Pole.”
Sam gave him a wicked side-eye. “It’s all fake and phony.”
“On that we can agree.” Dylan wished he could give the boy some pat holiday spirit pep talk, but in his family growing up, this time of year had meant more worries about money, more fights and definitely more drinking on his dad’s part. Not exactly the stuff of Christmas fairy tales.
“Christmas sucks,” Sam added for good measure.
“Is there anything that doesn’t suck?” Dylan asked.
“Fortnite,” came the mumbled reply.
“Right.” Video games and social media were the only things Sam had shown any enthusiasm for since his parents’ deaths. Dylan didn’t blame the kid. Dylan’s parents, Joelle and Matt Scott, hadn’t been Magnolia’s answer to June and Ward Cleaver, but he couldn’t imagine what would have happened if they’d been killed when he was Sam’s age. “Give this place a shot,” he urged. “I’m about to blow your mind at the best bakery in the world. I still dream of the nutty sticky buns from Sunnyside.”
Sam sniffed. “Sugar and carbs are bad for you.”
“You polished off half a box of Lucky Charms last night after dinner,” Dylan pointed out as he moved around a mother pushing a double stroller.
“I’m a teenager so I can handle it. You’re old. All those extra empty calories will make you fat.”
“I’m thirty-one.” Dylan patted his flat stomach. “Not exactly in line to apply for my AARP card.”
“What’s an AARP card?”
“Not important. Sunnyside is worth an extra mile on my morning run. In fact, you should come with me tomorrow.”
“Great,” Sam agreed, far too readily. “If it means I don’t have to go to school.”
“You’re going to school.”
“I hate school.”
“You hate everything.”
Sam nodded. “Especially you.”
Dylan shouldn’t let the boy’s words affect him, but they cut like the sting of a whip. Sam had been lashing out for weeks, ever since Dylan had announced plans to move to Magnolia. He’d known Sam since he was a toddler and had always thought he had a special bond with him. Sam was the only child of Dylan’s cousin, Wiley, who’d been more like a brother. They’d worked together at Wiley’s father’s real estate development company from the time Dylan had moved to Boston, growing the business into the powerhouse it was today.
Uncle Russ had stayed involved, even after his retirement two years ago, so it had been an especially tragic blow when Russ, Wiley and Wiley’s wife, Kay, had died in the plane crash.
Wiley had been his best friend. When he and Kay had asked Dylan to take care of Sam if anything happened to them, of course he’d said yes. He just never expected to be called on for that duty.
Sam had been devastated then angry and resentful before settling into sullen and rebellious. He’d been kicked out of two schools