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I pull back my hand, and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Is my room not ready yet?”
Beatrice purses her lips, and glares at her grandson before she turns to me. “There’s been a slight hiccup with the room you originally selected. We had a thunderstorm last night, and one of the boughs on the tree outside your room broke through the window, and part of the wall.”
I gasp. “Oh, no. You can just put me in another room. I don’t mind.”
“The problem is that the repairs will take a few weeks, and we’re at capacity here. But I’ve made room for you in the private guest house out back.” She winks. “I think you’ll love it.”
I wring my hands. “A private guest house? Are you sure that’s okay?”
Her grandson mutters something under his breath, but Beatrice cups my shoulder. “Absolutely. This is our issue, not yours. We promised you a room, and we’re going to deliver.”
I fish my wallet out of my purse, and slide my credit card across the smooth wood. Without a word, Beatrice’s grandson picks up my card, and turns around to insert it into the card reader.
This guy really shouldn’t be the one to greet people behind the desk. I wonder if he scares away any of the customers. But if Beatrice is in charge, and her grandson works here, then that makes him in charge as well. And judging by his attitude, it seems we’ve already gotten off on the wrong foot. How, I have no idea, since I’ve only just arrived. But I’m good at reading people, and Mr. Grumpy Pants is ticked off about something.
Beatrice hands me my card and receipt. “Now let’s get you settled so you can unpack. Tonight, you can have dinner with me, and tell me all about your life in the Big Apple. Bryce is on kitchen duty.”
“Is Bryce your chef?”
“No, dear.” Beatrice gives her grandson’s blocky shoulder a squeeze. “This is Bryce.” Then she smacks his leg with her cane again. “You’d know that if he’d introduced himself properly.”
“Ow!” He rubs his thigh, but a glint of amusement flickers in his coal eyes. “Would you stop hitting me with that thing? It’s not a weapon.”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing.
Beatrice winks at me. “I’ve got a spare in my closet if you want one.” She rounds the corner of the desk, and holds out her elbow for me to take. “Come on. Bryce will grab your bags.”
I hold up my palm. “Oh, no. He doesn’t have to do that.”
Bryce moves around the desk using a sleek black cane, and the wood floor creaks under his heavy steps. He slings my duffle bag over his shoulder, and tugs the handle of my suitcase.
“I can carry my own bags,” I say to his back, because he continues walking right out the front door.
And they say chivalry is dead.
Beatrice offers me a knowing smile. “He’ll grow on you.”
“Like weeds?”
She tosses her head back and cackles. “Something like that.”
I follow Beatrice back outside, and gaze at the vibrant pink rose bushes as we walk along the path leading toward the back of the inn. The sun warms my skin, and birds tweet their beautiful songs overhead in the tall oak trees. My shoulders relax, my nerves slowly easing out of me.
“You’ll love it back here.” Beatrice points her cane. “It’s quieter, and more peaceful.”
“Thank you. I truly appreciate your hospitality.”
“This place has healing powers. Wouldn’t you say so, Bryce?”
He grunts in what I assume is agreement several feet ahead of us, retreating from any and all conversation with me. Not that I mind. I have the perfect view from back here. His low-slung jeans wrap around the muscular globes of his rear end, and strain around his tree trunk thighs.He’s a real-life Jason Momoa—minus the charming personality.
Beatrice gives me the rundown. “Breakfast is served at eight every morning, lunch at noon, and dinner at five. Some days, I cook. Other days, it’s Bryce.”
“I’d love to help. I’ve worked at the diner in my neighborhood since I was sixteen, and became the manager a few years ago.” I let out a humorless laugh. “I’m a little nervous letting go of the reins for two-and-a-half months.”
“I might take you up on your offer,” Beatrice says. “We get busy in the summer. But not tonight. You should relax on your first night here.”
I’m about to respond when my breath leaves me on a gasp as I spot the large Grecian pool spanning the yard with lounge chairs and palm trees surrounding it. “I didn’t realize you had a pool.”
