Page 87 of The Matchmaker and the Marine

He grinned. “No more than any other average guy. But just look at those tiny windows in the attic. And the widow’s walk.”

She did a one-eighty. “I can’t see the ocean.”

“Most of the houses between this one and the sea were likely built afterward.” He turned back to look at the house. “This grand of a house was built for someone of wealth. Like a sea captain.”

“That would make sense.” She grabbed her bags from the trunk, and after Adam took his out, she closed it and locked the car. “I can’t wait to see our rooms. Do you think we can go out on the widow’s walk?”

“Probably not. Hopefully we’ll have a great view from our rooms.” Adam held the front door open. “After you.”

She swept through the door and stopped mid-step. Her mouth formed an O. He was sure she was transfixed by the beauty of the foyer and side parlor. The deep rich mahogany wood gleamed in the sunlight. Maroon velvet cushions graced the antique side chair and small sofa. The old polished floors were covered with oriental rugs that seemed to be old but well maintained.

“It’s gorgeous,” she breathed. There was a small bell on the desk and she tapped it. She grinned at Adam.

A woman’s voice drifted down the staircase. “No need to whisper.”

Melinda looked up and smiled.

They watched as a woman descended the stairs. She appeared to be in her late sixties based on the crinkles around her eyes and the subtle gray strands in her hair.

Melinda said, “It’s just so beautiful in here and old, it makes me want to talk in hushed tones.”

Adam teased, “You’ll have to excuse her. Before we came in, she was speculating if the inn would be haunted.”

“Adam,” Melinda admonished. She smiled at the innkeeper. “Don’t listen to him, he was the one thinking about ghosts.”

The woman’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You never know. But welcome—I’m Diana and I own this little slice of heaven. It’s been in my family for generations.”

“Did you grow up here?” Melinda asked.

“I did.” She stepped behind the desk. “Are you checking in?”

“Yes,” Adam set down his bag and reached for his wallet. “Adam Bell and this is Melinda Phillips. We’re here through Sunday.”

Diana consulted a large, old-fashioned leather bound book. “Here you are.”

Melinda dug into her bag and pulled out her credit card. “You’re old school.”

Diana smiled. “We have the online system, but I think this adds to the ambience. When our guests check in, they see we still have the same kind of book that has been here since my grandparents were the innkeepers.”

Adam handed her his credit card. “Oh wait, that’s my military ID.”

She handed it back to him. “My daughter was in the Army.”

Melinda noticed the slight downturn of her mouth. She lightly touched Adam’s sleeve and swept her eyes toward Diana.

He said, “You must be very proud of her.”

“We are. Were.”

In that instant, Melinda knew they had lost their daughter.

Very softly Adam said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Her smile was bright but didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ve put you in adjoining rooms. You can keep the door locked or not, your preference.”

He signed the slip and then Melinda did the same as she felt herself blush. “Thank you,” she stammered.

Adam picked up his bag. Quick to lighten the mood, he said, “Come on, toots, let’s find our rooms so we can take a drive before dinner.”

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