Page 54 of The Accidental Innkeeper

He waved it off and looped the strap back into his toolbox. “We’ll square up after the inspection.”

Right. The inspection. He’d already said that earlier today. I nodded, relieved I hadn’t imagined it in a stress hallucination. It wouldn’t have been the first time. I’d hallucinated an entire conversation with my ex-fiancé’s skank where it ended with me performing very enthusiastic, entirely imaginary jiujitsu on her face.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” I said. “The front door sticks.”

“I fixed it,” he said, walking away.

“Ah.”

I followed him toward the hall as he scanned the space, his eyes tracking the ceiling, the corners, the spots that looked innocent but weren’t.

“This place has good bones,” he said. “But it’s old. Roof’s soft near the third floor. Wiring’s been patched over the years. Some solid. Some… optimistic.”

I huffed. “Edna loved optimism. Just not in people.”

His mouth twitched. “Plumbing’s holding,” he went on. “I want to make sure everything’s up to code.”

My brain went numb. Up to code. Damn. What if it wasn’t? Then what?

“It’s Pearls & Pints next week,” I said, my blood pressure rising just at the thought.

He glanced at me. “I know.”

I raised a brow. “You do?”

“Hard not to,” he said. “Town fills up. Parking disappears. Men start pretending they’re relaxed about being auctioned.”

“Pretending,” I echoed.

“They polish up,” he said.

I snorted. “That sounds accurate.” I leaned against the banister, my arms crossed. “So you’ve seen it. Up close.” Why was I even asking him this?

“Every year.”

Interesting. “And?” I asked. “Thoughts?”

He considered that. “It brings money in. Keeps things running.”

“You sound deeply moved.”

“Practical,” he said.

Of course. I hesitated and then asked anyway. “Do you ever volunteer?” Here I went again with the word-vomit.

His brow lifted slightly. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether you’re asking as an innkeeper or as someone curious.”

Heat crept up my neck. “Innkeeper,” I said immediately. “Strictly professional curiosity. I just want to know what I’m up against.” Total lie. Well, just a white one. Didn’t count.

“Then no,” he said. “I help set things up. Fix what breaks. I don’t get on the platform, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Why not?”

He looked toward the front windows and the road beyond. “I like my evenings quiet.”