Page 57 of Resorting to Romance

“No. I’ve been busy going over reservations and making sure the confirmation emails went out to next week’s guests. I’ll grab something from the fridge in a bit. Or I’ll just have a protein bar.”

“Let me take you to Sebastian’s for sandwiches,” Kai suggests.

“Right now?”

“Yeah. Or I could go pick them up and bring them back here?”

“No. I should get out of here and clear my head. Give me a minute?”

“Sure. I’ll just wait on the porch.”

SEVENTEEN

Kai

Parents often give middle names just so that later,

when they’re yelling at the kid, they can drag it out.

‘Henry David Thoreau,

you come in here this instant!’

~ Paul Reiser

Mila steps onto the porch, leaving the inn unattended. Her guests know they can come and go, and she leaves a sign dangling on the reception desk that says, “Back in …” with the amount of time she estimates she’ll be gone. On days when Chloe’s cleaning, Mila runs errands. And, when Mila’s here alone, she locks the kitchen and shuts down the computer before she leaves. Otherwise, she doesn’t think twice about taking a break with me.

I stand from the porch swing and walk over to her, instinctively placing my palm on her back in a way I never would have a week ago.

“Are you okay?” I study her face for a sign of what she might hidewith words.

“Yeah. I think so. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll worry if I want to. You’re not the boss of me, Mila … What’s your middle name anyway?”

“My middle name?”

“Yeah. It sounds better if I can sayMila June Mitchell,when I’m telling you that you’re not the boss of me.”

We head down the porch steps together and I let my hand fall off Mila’s back once we’re walking.

“June?” She scrunches up her nose in this adorable way that gives a glimpse of what she must have looked like growing up.

“Not June?”

“No.” She giggles, which makes me want to continue bantering with her.

Anything to lift the mood I caught her in when I walked in on her phone call with Brad.

“July?”

She laughs harder. “No!’

“January?” I wink at her. “February? March? Now that would be a name. Alliteration freaks would go mad for a name like that. Mila March Mitchell. Say that five times fast.”

She tries and bursts into more laughter when “Mitchell” comes out “Mishell.” And then the words get even more jumbled from there.

“MeeyaMarMimshell.” She pauses in the street and places her hand on my shoulder. “Wait! Wait! I can do it. Give me another chance.”

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