Page 9 of One Last Thing Before You Go

His eyes lock on mine, smirking because he caught me staring. I want to look away, but I can’t. His ice-blue eyes are hypnotizing, holding me like they did that night as we talked into the early morning in between kisses and sex.

God, I’m so insensitive. I should be sad. I should be listening to the lawyer. I should be mourning Walter and thinking about how this whole thing is awful. Instead, all I can think about is how incredible that night was and wondering what the hell he’s doing here and how long he’ll stay in town and—oh my god—what if it’s permanent, what if⁠—

“…And as for my bookstore, Adams’s Books, I leave five percent to Miss Jennifer Evelyn Roberts⁠—”

My head snaps up to Leroy, a gasp bursting through Jenn’s lips.

“—thirty-five percent to Miss Carlota Elisa Veracruz—” “Oh my god.” My hand flies to my mouth.

“—and sixty percent to my son, Lennox Riddick Adams.”

“Son?” Jenn and I burst out simultaneously.

CHAPTER FOUR

KNOX

Ablanket of shock and silence falls over us. I’m not sure whether it lasts just a few seconds, but it feels like hours.

Eventually, I clear my throat, pulling at my collar. “So, we’re sharing the store? How’s that going to work?” I ask Leroy, ignoring the women’s question. Truthfully, I’m also trying to process the fact that Lottie knew my dad and that she was close enough to be left in his will.

Because the Walter I knew was pretty much heartless.

But how is this real? How is it that the woman I’ve been fucking dying to see for three days is suddenly here, standing in front of me, like one of those movies my mom loves to watch? Did we seriously just inherit a part of my father’s bookstore together? I already found it weird that he’d even considered leaving me something small, let alone his entire business. It’d be an understatement to say I was surprised. And now to hear he called me his son in a legal document? I’m shocked. To be honest, I half expected the old man to leave a directive to burn all his shit to the ground before having anything to do with me again—even after death.

“You’re his son?” Lottie asks, her wide eyes turned on me, now. “I—Walter never said he had a son.”

I snort and shake my head. I try to play it cool, but I can’t lie to myself. A microscopic part of me feels a bit of a sting. “Of course he didn’t.”

At my reaction, she recovers, guilt clear on her face. “To be fair, you’d be hard-pressed to talk to Walter about anything other than books.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know exactly the type of man he was. I’d venture to guess you were much closer to him than I ever was.” Lottie frowns, her lips pursed in defensiveness. “Obviously, since you guys made it into his will, too. Although, the fact that I’m also in it doesn’t say much about you in the end.”

“Well, to answer your original question, Mr Riddick, the three of you can do whatever you want with the bookstore.” Lottie, Jenn, and I stare at each other for a moment. “You can rent it, renovate it and keep it going, or just keep running it as is. Or even sell it. You can do anything you want with it. As partners, of course. You need to decide together.”

“Sell it?” Lottie gasps. “What? I⁠— ”

But I just scratch my head, shaken. I didn’t expect to have to inherit anything when I came here, let alone have to share it with my one-night stand (and the best sex of my life) and someone who doesn’t look to be a day over twenty. Though I’m really not hating the fact that the universe has brought me and Lottie back together. I just wish the circumstances were better.

“Did he leave a note?” I ask.

Lottie snorts. “He wouldn’t do that. Walter would’ve thought it too cliché or something. Probably hoped his actions spoke louder than words—even from beyond the grave,” she says with the confidence of someone who knew him well and the fondness of someone who loved him. And I realize that this woman—this woman I’ve been dreaming of for days—might’ve actually known my father far better than I’d ever hoped to.

“No, I’m sorry.” Leroy shoots me a sympathetic look. “I know you and your dad had your issues, but⁠—”

“He wasn’t my dad.”

“Are… Are you sure? He was pretty positive he was your father.”

“Oh, he was definitely my biological father. Just, not my dad. I don’t think a man like that deserves that title, to be honest.”

“A man like that? A man like what, exactly?” Jenn asks, spine straightening into a protective stance.

Lottie puts a hand on Jenn’s shoulder, pulling her back gently. “Jenn,” she whispers, shaking her head at her.

I must’ve somehow slipped into a parallel universe or something. Because… Are they sticking up for him? Like… Did these people actually like the guy?

“Well, in any case, he left sixty percent of the store to you, Mr. Riddick. Plus, the loft upstairs and any remaining funds in his bank account, which… isn’t much, if we’re being honest. But you do need to do something about it.”