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As he walked off, I turned toward the last three groups, the Patels, a honeymooning couple from North Dakota, Felisha and Veronica, two besties in their thirties here for a girls’ week away, and the Kiplings, a keep-to-themselves couple in their early fifties. They all seemed involved in their own conversations, so I let them be, knowing yet another apology wouldn’t make anything better.
I was lucky everyone was so understanding. And that there wasn’t actually a fire. This could’ve been a lot worse.
Two of the firefighters were by the truck now, doing whatever firefighters who got called out on a fluke call did, so I guessed they didn’t have any other questions for me. Perfect. I just wanted to be left alone.
I took a few steps away from everyone to try to breathe and calm my emotions. As I turned, I caught movement down the driveway out of the corner of my eye, and when I looked in that direction, I saw the last person I wanted to see right now, coming at me in a sprint.
Except, in spite of telling myself all damn night I needed to avoid Cash Henry as much as possible until I left town, there was an annoying flip in my chest at the sight of him. Because what a sight he made in athletic shorts and a half-drenched-with-sweat T-shirt, his thigh muscles flexing with every long stride, his biceps glistening with perspiration…
“Ava,” he said, barely winded. “What’s going on?” He stopped beside me, and okay, his chest was heaving a little, but it was nothing like the death I would be experiencing had I sprinted from the main road.
“Everything’s fine.” I turned my gaze back to the firefighters and the truck and the “action.”
“I was on my run and saw the truck turn this way. What happened?”
My eyes fluttered closed. It was embarrassing enough to screw up and have everyone at the inn’s morning interrupted, but admitting my amateur mistake to Cash? The professional chef? Especially after he’d teased me that I couldn’t bake?
“You were right. I should’ve gone to Sugar,” I said, resigned. “I burned the muffins.” I gestured to the pan still on the ground. “The smoke set off the alarm. The alarm’s connected to the fire department, and here we all are, just hanging out before seven on a Saturday morning. At least it’s not raining.”
“Damn. Sorry you’re having a bad start.” He put an arm around me, squeezed me to his side, then released me. “I’d give you a better hug but I stink,” he said.
“I’m fine,” I lied. I didn’t want him to hug me, and it had nothing to do with sweat. I didn’t wantanyoneto hug me. Wasn’t sure if I could handle people being nice to me at the moment. “The firefighters should be about done, and then they’ll let everyone back in.”
He walked several long steps toward the inn, his eyes on the pan, going close enough that he’d definitely notice that not only were the muffins black but they hadn’t risen.
When he was back at my side, he asked, “What happened? Was the cooking time wrong?”
“I got distracted and forgot to set a timer.”
“It’s happened to me. Maybe not to fire department level.” His smile was sympathetic instead of teasing. I tried to join him in that smile but I probably wasn’t convincing.
“I made the mistake of checking my email while they baked,” I said. “There should be a limit on bad news emails before eight a.m. on a weekend.”
“What kind of bad news?”
“Let’s see… The woman I offered a front desk position took another job. The appraisal on the inn came in lower than expected, so I’ll have less to borrow against. And the roof estimate was nearly double what Halstead had guessed and I’d hoped for. For starters.”
“That’s a hell of a Saturday morning,” Cash said.
“Next thing I knew, smoke was coming out of the oven. I switched it off, then made the mistake of opening it.”
“Smoke came rolling out?”
I nodded.
He was quiet, pensive, while I watched the two firefighters come back outside and consult with the others.
“This is all recoverable,” Cash said, and I raised my brows, because I was ready to walk off the end of the dock and soak my head in the lake. “First I need to wash off the sweat. Mind if I use the shower in the cottage while you finish up with these guys?” He nodded to the firefighter who was approaching, the same guy I’d spoken to before.
“Go ahead,” I said, barely thinking about the request. Cash had been in the cottage plenty of times in the past, and he knew where the bathroom was. I stepped toward the firefighter as Cash walked off. “What’s the verdict?”
“Everything’s fine. You can let people back in,” he said. Fire Chief Thomas, I read from his badge.
“I’m so sorry.” I’d said that so many times today that I should just get a T-shirt that said it and save my breath.
“You’d be surprised how often this kind of thing happens. Part of the job.”
“I’ll be more careful the next time I bake muffins,” I said, trying to be lighthearted, but the truth was, I didn’t know if I would try to bake the damn muffins ever again. Maybe that should be a job requirement of whoever I hired for morning desk shifts.
