Page 9 of Just One Chance

I never slept with guests. I could see how it could be a bad idea. A disgruntled guest could blast bad reviews online. But I didn't get the impression that Kennedy would ever do something like that.

I slipped on my shoes at the door, checking to ensure I had my wallet and keys. Then I opened and closed the door softly. The hallway was empty.

I ran a hand through my hair, hoping I wouldn't see any member of my family on the way out. I quickly ducked into the stairwell and took it to the exit to the back of the building. I walked around the building to my truck and went home to shower and change.

I had to refocus on what was important, convincing my parents that I should be the one to design the furniture. Hadn't we already proven that guests enjoyed learning about the history of the family and our business?

The fact that I'd designed the furniture for the brewery was a nice touch. It was something for people to talk about. No one cared about furniture that was bought from a showroom. It didn't have a story to tell.

There was no way my parents would be convinced by this outsider that her ideas were better than mine.

But there was a niggling doubt in my mind. Why had they scheduled this consultant at all? Did they not trust me? Did they want to sell the entire business to an outsider?

That sent me into a downward spiral. I'd always lived on the property, and I ran my business from here. I pitched in at the restaurant and the brewery as needed. This was my life. I wouldn't let it go without a fight. And I wouldn't cave on my desire to see my furniture in the inn.

I was positive my grandparents would have wanted the same thing.

I took extra time in the shower, letting the warm water beat a steady rhythm on my back as I remembered every detail about last night. How Kennedy looked in the hot tub, her eyes bright with desire and her skin flushed from the heat. How she rode my cock. And later, how it felt to spread her out on the bed and take my time with her.

I wasn't done with her. Not by a long shot.

When I finally got out, I dressed in slacks and a white button shirt. This was a professional meeting, but I wasn't wearing a suit to breakfast. I was a man who worked with his hands. I dressed up when I had to, but there was no way I'd play the part of a stiff suit for this woman, whoever she was.

I glanced at the mirror. A few days growth of scruff lined my jaw. I wasn't shaving for her either. I wouldn't conform to her vision of a man.

Ms. Barnes was in Colorado now, and if she couldn't render an opinion that made sense for this area, then she shouldn't be here.

I hated that I had to socialize this early in the morning. I preferred to start the morning with coffee while I sat on my porch. Then I'd spend a few hours in the workshop. At some point throughout the day, a brother would call and ask for help somewhere, and I might venture out. Otherwise, I'd stay in the workshop and work.

Now that I was done with the brewery’s furniture, I had quite a few orders to catch up on. People who wanted a dining room table, bookshelves, or a storage unit.

I had steady business through word-of-mouth referrals and didn't have to advertise. It would be easier to handle the business side of things if I had an assistant, but the business didn't warrant that yet. Besides, hiring an employee was one more person I'd have to talk to. I preferred solitude when I was working.

At the restaurant, I checked in with the hostess, and she directed me to a table by the window. Mom and Dad were already seated.

"Mom. Dad," I greeted them as I sat down. I was still upset that we were meeting with this person at all. Mom and Dad wanted to retire, and they wanted to ensure that they did the best they could for the inn. But they were making a mistake in asking for an outsider's opinion.

"You aren't happy about this," Dad said simply.

I appreciated him not tiptoeing around the issue. "I don't see the point. How will an outsider know what's best for our business?"

"This woman is supposed to be one of the rising stars in the hotel design world," Mom said excitedly.

"I didn't know there was such a thing." I had visions of white, modern decor. It was boring and wouldn't match the aesthetic at the inn.

Mom nodded seriously. "Apparently she started as a hospitality worker and made a few suggestions on decor. The results were so good that she went out on her own. We're lucky that she had time to meet with us. She usually takes on larger hotels, not small inns like ours."

I ground my teeth together. "So she thinks that we're tiny compared to her other jobs?"

"We are small compared to city hotels," Dad said reasonably. "This is important to us. We want to make sure we're leaving you with an inn that is prepared for the future. Sometimes you have to admit that you need an expert's opinion."

"I'm still not convinced that this woman is an expert." I knew nothing about her. Other than her last name. I probably should have searched her name online last night. I probably wouldn't have had too much of a problem getting information. Especially if what my parents were saying was true. The hotel industry was relatively small, and everyone talked about the next big thing.

Instead, I spent the night entranced with Kennedy, exploring her body inside and out, and I had no regrets about that.

When I glanced up, Kennedy was a few feet away from our table, headed in our direction. I stood without even thinking about it.

She wore a silk blouse, a pencil skirt, and skinny heels that made her legs look a mile long. Her hair was sleeked back into a bun. Her lips were covered in a red lipstick that I wanted to see around my dick.