sternly reminded herself, was the man who’d rebuffed her friends’ invitation to stay for dinner and walked out of her apartment without a backward glance.
Alex wasn’t always like this. He had a lot of friends before our parents put us in private school. He loved to play practical jokes when we were kids.
Kate couldn’t remember where she put her car keys half the time, so why did she remember everything Abby had said about her older brother?
Alex claimed the chair behind the desk, snagged a scone and got straight down to business.
“I went over the list of reservations. Charles and Irene Gibson will be checking into one of the cabins this afternoon. They’ll be staying through the weekend.
“Thursday there will be a couple on their honeymoon, two cabins booked with kayak enthusiasts, one who is lactose-intolerant, and a single guest who requested a vegetarian option…are you listening, Kate? Don’t you think you should be writing this down?”
“Yes.” Alex didn’t have to know Kate’s response had been directed to the second question. Because, if she were truly honest, the answer to the first would have been, “No, I got distracted by your eyelashes again…”
Swallowing hard, she fished a pen and notebook out of her backpack.
“Lactose. Vegetarian. Kayaks.” As Kate jotted down the information, she became aware that Alex had gone completely still. She looked up. “What is it?”
“It’s…pink.” It was the first thing that popped into Alex’s head. Except that he didn’t usually say the first thing that popped into his head.
But…he’d expected Kate to tug a laptop out of her backpack. Or a neat, professional-looking leather binder. Not a hot pink, spiral-bound notebook and a pen encrusted with so much bling that it resembled a Fourth of July float.
“I know. The girls in my book club like to give me sparkly things on my birthday.” Kate swiped at the pom-pom dancing on the end of the cap. “I think it’s sweet. Is there anything else?”
Alex managed to yank his gaze free from the slow, hypnotic movement of the glitter floating inside of the pen’s cartridge.
“When the guests check in, Abby gives them a choice as to whether they want a continental breakfast delivered right to their cabin or if they prefer to join the other guests in the dining room.”
He handed her a sheet of paper lined with organized, typewritten notes. “Abby acts as the dining room hostess but I can hire someone if you prefer.”
“I’m already here,” she pointed out. “It won’t be any trouble to serve breakfast and keep the coffee going.”
“I ordered a new oven. It will be here by tomorrow afternoon.” Alex leaned back in the chair, expecting to see profound relief on Kate’s face. What he saw looked a lot like…horror?
“You can’t get rid of Mrs. Avocado!”
“Who is Mrs. Avocado?”
“Abby’s oven.”
“My sister named the oven?”
“Mrs. Avocado is not just an oven.” Kate leaped to her feet. “She’s an…an icon.”
“No, she’s—” Alex stopped and shook his head. “I mean it’s, a temperamental green dinosaur that isn’t worth the price I’m paying to have it shipped to the junkyard.”
Kate slapped both hands on the desk and leaned forward until Alex got a close-up of a tiny, star-shaped freckle just below the corner of her left eye.
“It works if a person knows what they’re doing!”
He leaned forward, too. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m running the inn.”
“And I’m running the kitchen . I say we don’t need a new oven.” A spiral of copper hair flopped down over Kate’s eye, blocking the star-shaped freckle from Alex’s view.
Their fingers tangled as they attempted to brush it away. At the same time.
Alex’s lungs stopped working as he stared down at Kate. He’d always been good at reading people…but he was suddenly afraid of what he might see in her eyes. And what she might see in his.
A low laugh shocked them
Alex wasn’t always like this. He had a lot of friends before our parents put us in private school. He loved to play practical jokes when we were kids.
Kate couldn’t remember where she put her car keys half the time, so why did she remember everything Abby had said about her older brother?
Alex claimed the chair behind the desk, snagged a scone and got straight down to business.
“I went over the list of reservations. Charles and Irene Gibson will be checking into one of the cabins this afternoon. They’ll be staying through the weekend.
“Thursday there will be a couple on their honeymoon, two cabins booked with kayak enthusiasts, one who is lactose-intolerant, and a single guest who requested a vegetarian option…are you listening, Kate? Don’t you think you should be writing this down?”
“Yes.” Alex didn’t have to know Kate’s response had been directed to the second question. Because, if she were truly honest, the answer to the first would have been, “No, I got distracted by your eyelashes again…”
Swallowing hard, she fished a pen and notebook out of her backpack.
“Lactose. Vegetarian. Kayaks.” As Kate jotted down the information, she became aware that Alex had gone completely still. She looked up. “What is it?”
“It’s…pink.” It was the first thing that popped into Alex’s head. Except that he didn’t usually say the first thing that popped into his head.
But…he’d expected Kate to tug a laptop out of her backpack. Or a neat, professional-looking leather binder. Not a hot pink, spiral-bound notebook and a pen encrusted with so much bling that it resembled a Fourth of July float.
“I know. The girls in my book club like to give me sparkly things on my birthday.” Kate swiped at the pom-pom dancing on the end of the cap. “I think it’s sweet. Is there anything else?”
Alex managed to yank his gaze free from the slow, hypnotic movement of the glitter floating inside of the pen’s cartridge.
“When the guests check in, Abby gives them a choice as to whether they want a continental breakfast delivered right to their cabin or if they prefer to join the other guests in the dining room.”
He handed her a sheet of paper lined with organized, typewritten notes. “Abby acts as the dining room hostess but I can hire someone if you prefer.”
“I’m already here,” she pointed out. “It won’t be any trouble to serve breakfast and keep the coffee going.”
“I ordered a new oven. It will be here by tomorrow afternoon.” Alex leaned back in the chair, expecting to see profound relief on Kate’s face. What he saw looked a lot like…horror?
“You can’t get rid of Mrs. Avocado!”
“Who is Mrs. Avocado?”
“Abby’s oven.”
“My sister named the oven?”
“Mrs. Avocado is not just an oven.” Kate leaped to her feet. “She’s an…an icon.”
“No, she’s—” Alex stopped and shook his head. “I mean it’s, a temperamental green dinosaur that isn’t worth the price I’m paying to have it shipped to the junkyard.”
Kate slapped both hands on the desk and leaned forward until Alex got a close-up of a tiny, star-shaped freckle just below the corner of her left eye.
“It works if a person knows what they’re doing!”
He leaned forward, too. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m running the inn.”
“And I’m running the kitchen . I say we don’t need a new oven.” A spiral of copper hair flopped down over Kate’s eye, blocking the star-shaped freckle from Alex’s view.
Their fingers tangled as they attempted to brush it away. At the same time.
Alex’s lungs stopped working as he stared down at Kate. He’d always been good at reading people…but he was suddenly afraid of what he might see in her eyes. And what she might see in his.
A low laugh shocked them
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