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“None.”

Her lips parted like she was going to say more, but then she caught herself, smiled again, and started repacking the bags.

I stood there for a moment longer, watching her.

And for the first time since arriving in Buttercup Lake, I didn’t feel like a man passing through.

I felt like someonearriving.

Chapter Nineteen

Fifi

He said he’d come.

He said he’d come.

I smiled to the kitchen, and then I reached the back hallway and promptly had a full-blowninternal breakdownby the mop closet.

What had I done?

I was not emotionally equipped for this level of potential. There were marshmallows at stake. There was eye contact at stake. There werefeelingsat stake.

I had crossed the line from being a cute innkeeper with a harmless crush to a woman arranging social encounters like a strategic field commander, armed with snacks and optimism.

And the problem?

He’d agreed.

Which meant I had to go through with it.

Which meant—oh God—I had toseehim.

Andtalkto him.

And possiblysitnear him in the flickering light of a fire like some overly enthusiastic Hallmark heroine trying not to accidentally fall in love.

I opened the fridge and stared at a block of cheddar.

I closed the fridge and opened it again.

The cheese offered no answers.

Dang it.

I ran through the checklist: s’mores? Check. Drinks? Check. Paper napkins with little cartoon pine trees? Check. Emotional preparedness?Unconfirmed.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and told myself to chill out. Just breathe. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t anything.

“Just chill like an ice cube.”

“Always good advice,” Sienna said, walking into the kitchen.

“Not you again.” I stared at her, and she chuckled.

“I just came to see if I could offer any help, advice, or extra hands for your big night.”

“This is not a big night. It’s a regular night. Just me doing what I do to ensure our little lodge gets the good ratings.”