Page 95 of Meet Me at the Fudge Shop

Well, life would have been different. And maybe he’d needed the past ten years to become the man who returned to Jonathon Island.

To become the man who could stay. And this time with the woman he loved.

Except, maybe she didn’t want him. Not with the baggage of his family. She actually thought Isaac caused the disaster. That was a reach—and he might be upset with his parents for ruining Lily’s victory in the first place, but he couldn’t really blame them. They’d wanted the fudge shop and Grandma’s house secure. Besides, the pipes were old. It was unfortunate, sure, but Isaac wouldn’t?—

Let me take care of the rest.

Wait. Those had been Isaac’s exact words to him last night when his brother had volunteered to finish up here.

Declan dropped the mop, and it clattered to the floor. What did that mean? Was Lily right? Surely not.

But this time, he wasn’t going to blindly believe. He had to know.

Declan headed out the back alley door and stalked up Jonathon Boulevard. The last of the tourists would have caught the ferry by now, and the night was inky black with a bright canopy of stars and a crescent moon—enough to light his way to his parents’ home.

When he got there, he twisted the handle with so much force he was afraid it’d break off in his hand.

The TV blared from the living room, and Declan walked with purpose through the foyer and kitchen to find Isaac sitting on the couch, a beer bottle in his hand and an old ball game on the screen.

Declan grabbed the remote off the coffee table and hit the Power button, then turned to his brother, whose eyes were slightly red.

“Hey!” his brother protested. “I was watching that.”

“Did you do it?” Declan ground out through clenched teeth.

“Do what?”

“Did you damage that pipe somehow?”

“What are you talking about?” Isaac rubbed his hand across his mouth.

“The pipe at the fudge shop—the one directly over Lily’s fudge. The one that suddenly burst open and destroyed her fudge. Which basically guaranteed I’d win the competition.”

“You said so yourself. The pipes in that building were old. That’s why you had trouble last week.” His brother took a swig, but there was something shifty in his gaze as he looked away from Declan.

A nauseating roll swept through Declan’s gut. He stared at his brother for a moment, tried to collect himself. Still, his words came out tight and his fists balled. “And you took full advantage of that, didn’t you?”

Isaac said nothing.

“I trusted you, man. Let you work beside me.” Declan paced the room. “How could you do this?”

“Do what? Save Grandma’s house? You’re welcome.”

Declan stilled. “You think I wanted this? Do you know what you cost me tonight?”

“Oh, boo-hoo. Poor Declan, oh favored one. Don’t worry. At least you’ll get all the praise for saving the day. Again.”

“What are you talking about? Up until now, I’ve been the family pariah for what happened to Grandpa.”

Isaac’s face tightened. “At least they even thought to ask you to stay with Grandpa. They didn’t trust me to go anywhere near him.”

“You were twelve.”

“And you were only eighteen, but Declan Kelley could do no wrong in Mom and Dad’s eyes.” Isaac drained the rest of his beer, set the bottle on the side table, stood. “And then you left, and Mom couldn’t talk about anything but how much she missed you, how much she wished you’d come back. I saved you. Now you can go back to your fancy job, the conquering hero. You saved Grandma’s houseandthe fudge shop. You’re welcome.”

“You cheated so we’d win.”

“And it finally worked,” Isaac mumbled as he headed for the kitchen, stumbling a bit.

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