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And now I’ve got to do something about the way I’ve treated her. To make it right. If not right, better.
Chapter 6
Dalton
Caleb gets a call and excuses himself, leaving me with that bombshell about Aubrey. It’s not enough. I can’t avoid this feeling that I want to know more and more, and the pull to her annoys me. What happened to just getting away and enjoying the bed-and-breakfast life? Relaxing? Claiming some mental and physical distance from Johanna?
I walk back toward the tall, three-story house Caleb and Lauren apparently painted not long ago. I eye the peppy, bold yellow that should infuse me with some happiness. Even plain old energy would do. All I feel right now is a headache though, and it’s not even really dinnertime yet.
As soon as I walk from the future construction site, I find Lauren and Aubrey getting ready to take off. Lauren slides into the driver’s side door of the old pickup we didn’t ride to the restaurant in. It seems like a relic from long ago, likely Marian’s truck that she doesn’t want to get rid of for those chances someone might need it at the B&B.
“Hey, Dalton,” Lauren greets from the open window. Her smile is an easy one, bright with her obvious good mood.
I smile back. “What are you two up to?”
“I’m taking Aubrey into town. I figure I can show her around, and we can spend a day together before I dive into all the projects I’m busting to do here.”
“Yeah, before you get too busy with the motel you’re renovating.”
She giggles. “Oh, it’ll all fit in. I love staying busy. But today, it’ll be our girls’ day.”
“Sounds like fun.” For you. There goes my opportunity to show Aubrey I’m not a total asshole for no reason.
“Ready?” Lauren leans out the open window, calling out to Aubrey.
“Yeah, I grabbed a water bottle for you”—she glances up from running down the porch steps and stills at the sight of me there—“too.”
“Thanks,” Lauren says.
I don’t face her again, too stuck on how much Aubrey looks so happy, so free and content until she spots me. She maintains eye contact, eyeing me as she tosses her bag through the passenger window. When she pauses to narrow her eyes before getting in, I wonder why I want to bother to make amends.
“Why are you staring at me?”
I open and close my mouth. First, I want to argue that I’m not staring, just looking. But that sounds like an argument and I’m trying to avoid that.
Instead, I glare at her, peeved with the way she clings to making me the enemy. I walk away, scolding myself for even thinking about her. I’ll kill some time on my laptop. I can always check work stuff.
I don’t get far with that plan because as soon as I enter the house, I bump into Marian. When Caleb introduced us the day before, I got an instant first impression of a kind and possibly hippie older woman. She stops me now in the hallway, smiling warmly. “Caleb, come with me please. I need you in the kitchen.”
I follow, lured to obey this motherly woman. She’s not demanding, just thoroughly suggestive. Once I enter the kitchen, I nearly growl at the delicious smells lingering in there. Damn, am I hungry.
“What can I do?” I ask, no stranger to helping out. I haven’t had a chance to actually talk with this woman, but from the little I’ve seen and how highly Caleb and Lauren praise her, I want to be acquainted with her.
She whisked me in here, but when I reach for the spatula placed atop a pot of what looks like water eager to boil, she gently swats at me. “Hands off. I have a system in my kitchen. You’ve got to respect it.”
“System in the kitchen?” I chuckle as she replaces the wooden spatula where it was and slides over to prep veggies on a cutting board. “Sounds like a rhyme.”
She smiles. “I have heard that before. But please, sit.”
I pull out a chair and raise my eyebrows when she brings a plate to me at the circular table.
“I only wanted to bribe you to come sit and talk. Caleb has told me so much about you, but I figure I need to get to know you and establish my own opinions.”
I smile and dig into the hearty stew. It’s got to be leftovers because she’s clearly cooking something else with chicken and noodles now. But it’s delicious.
“So, what opinion should I form?” she asks as she preps food for dinner.
“Are you fishing for information?”
