“That’s—” Luke hiccups again, and he points forward to the house at the end of the lane. “My home.”
Luke’s home turns out to be the biggest house Hardy has ever seen. He drives by the tree-lined driveway, parking in front of the wraparound porch of a three-story Victorian mansion. The building screams luxury, with its steep, multi-faced roof, white scalloped shingles, and a round tower spanning past the three stories. Hardy would bet this is the most expensive house of all Westcrest, and he wouldn’t expect any less from the scion of a multibillion-dollar hotel empire.
Hardy takes the keys out of the ignition and steps out of the car. Luke stays where he is, apparently knowing he will need Hardy’s help to get out. As soon as Hardy opens the passenger seat door, Luke throws his arms around
