Page 23 of The Hot New Bachelor in Town

“Wheat,” I say.

She smiles and turns to grab a loaf off the rack near the pantry door. As she does, I notice a series of notches drawn along the side of the doorframe, the top one about equal height with her. She really grew up here.

Cute.

“We’re out of white, so you chose correctly,” she says as she returns.

“What about rye?” I ask.

“We never have rye.”

“Then why did you offer it?”

She shrugs. “I like to give people options.”

“Even if they don’t exist?”

“Welcome to Small Town, my dude.”

I laugh and roll up my sleeves. After a quick wash of the hands, we both get to work assembling our sandwiches. Mika grabs a few small single serving bags of potato chips from the pantry and gestures toward the door on the opposite side that says Dining Room.

“Let’s take a walk,” I suggest before we reach a table. “I’d like to see more of the inn before I go, if you’re up to giving me another tour.”

Mika nods, keen on the idea. “Sure,” she says. “I can walk and chew at the same time.”

We exit the dining room with our sandwiches gently wrapped in napkins and enter another sitting room before reaching the front foyer. This room is meant for more lively chatter, with board games on the shelves and a record player in the corner. As we pass, I see a collection of vinyls sitting beneath it. Some old. Some new.

Along the way, I catch moments of heavy-eyed stares and silent reflection on Mika’s face, reminding me of her father earlier today. This place is full of memories. Some good. Some bad.

Mika leads me upstairs next. There, she shows me the other nine rooms, all vacant, all featuring their own themes such as Coastal Retreat and Garden Sanctuary. My personal favorite is Room 5, Rustic Cabin.

“But this...” Mika stops in front of Room 1, my room. “This is my favorite room in the inn.”

“Why?” I ask as I unlock it.

“Because it’s the fancy room.” She walks in. “Technically, it’s Victorian Elegance, but I always just called it the fancy room.”

Glancing around with new knowledge of the other rooms, I see now that she’s right. This room has a fireplace, while the others don’t. It has a four-poster bed with a matching writing desk and a loveseat couch stacked with throw pillows. The other rooms are smaller, simpler.

Mika pulls a few pillows off the couch and tosses them onto the rug in front of the fireplace. “I used to hide in here all the time when I was a kid.” She pulls a fleece blanket off the back of the loveseat and brings it down to the floor with her. “Even when it was booked up, I’d hide in the closet and hope the guests wouldn’t notice me.”

I follow her lead once again, sitting down as she turns on the fireplace, lighting the space with a pleasant orange glow. “Were you ever caught?” I ask.

“Once,” she says. “My mother pulled me aside and told me that our guests deserve their privacy and I’m only allowed to go into the rooms when no one’s booked them.” She chuckles. “Later, I realized she was just scared of me hearing people having S-E-X.”

I laugh. “Your mother sounds like a sweet lady.”

“She was, yeah.” Mika looks at the fire with another one of those long, pensive stares. “She passed two summers ago.”

“I’m sorry,” I say softly.

She nods gratefully. “Brain aneurysm. In her sleep. Quiet and peaceful, so.. I guess it could have been worse.”

“Yeah,” I say.

“Since then, things have been...” Mika goes quiet, hesitating. “Never mind.”

“What?”

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