Page 7 of The Guest Cottage

Such a remarkable man.

She couldn’t think of a single time that Dylan had hauled a box . . . anywhere. He had hired people for that sort of thing. He would have complained if he’d had to step around a box, much less move it. Not that he hadn’t been fit. He’d gone to the gym regularly and enjoyed golfing, sometimes pickleball, and occasionally tennis.

Though why she was thinking of Dylan right now, she couldn’t say. There wasn’t a single bit of resemblance between him and her new landlord.

A landlord who had put drinks in her fridge and shared his pizzaandunpacked her SUV.

Putting a hand to her forehead, she took in the room. Of course, it was lovely, too. It did, indeed, open to the porch, but with French doors instead of sliders. Behind the full-size bed, windows gave a view of a wooded side lot.

The bed sat on a pedestal of white drawers for extra storage. An old-fashioned, floral quilt was topped with a beige knitted throw and fluffy white cotton pillows. After her sleepless night and long drive, her bones wanted to melt at the sight of that cozy bed.

The bathroom was all white tile with beige towels and rugs. Even the laundry room was pretty, with open wood shelving and a stacked washer and dryer.

Unwilling to leave Mr. Easton waiting any longer, she rushed back to the kitchen, and there he was, sitting in one of the chairs at the small square table, devouring his pizza and drinking his own cola.

Trying to correct the already miserable impression she’d made, Marlow retrieved her drink and empty plate from the covered porch, then sat across from him. “Mr. Easton—”

“Cort.”

She paused, but he was correct. They had no reason to be formal. “Please call me Marlow.”

He answered with a single dip of his head.

“Thank you. For the food and the unloading. I’m sorry I put you to the trouble. I’d love to repay you for the pizza.”

“Herman gives me food whenever I work for him. It didn’t cost me anything.”

“Well, that was nice of Herman, but surely you’d planned to eat it, and here I’ve taken half.”

His mouth lifted slightly again before he set another piece of pizza on her plate. “That slice gives you a fourth. As to the cola, I always stock the basics for anyone renting. You have bottled water, juice, and milk in the fridge. Also eggs and a few condiments. Sugar, flour, powdered creamer, salt and pepper are in the cabinet. I put two TV dinners in the freezer, just in case.”

His consideration overwhelmed her as much as the house did. “I thought I’d be able to stop at a grocery store for all that, but then I kept driving and driving without seeing anything but houses. No restaurants or stores of any kind.”

After wiping his mouth, he sat back in the chair, shoulders straight, chin held high.

He had incredible posture, and it spurred her to sit a little more properly when she really wanted to slump into an exhausted heap.

“Home rule-class city means Bramble can govern itself independently of the state constitution or statutes. As long as we keep things within reason, state power doesn’t infringe on the local government. When I moved here to be closer to my mother, it kicked the population up to four hundred and one. That ‘one’ pushed them all over the edge.” Another quick curve of his lips.

Why am I staring at his lips?Marlow lifted her brows and tried to look enthralled by the story, rather than enthralled by his mouth.

“Now the town doesn’t allow any new building. I already had the guest cottage and the lake house, so I can rent them out, but new permanent residents aren’t allowed. The only exceptions to population growth are children being born.” This time he definitely wore a look of humor. “The town allows that.”

They allowed births? She snickered, then laughed, then couldn’t stop laughing. She wiped her eyes twice, pinched her mouth together, even shook her head hard, but it didn’t help.

“Exhaustion,” he diagnosed, as if he were an expert. “It’s funny, but not that funny.”

And for some reason, that only made her laugh harder. She covered her face, humiliated, even as she continued to make those obnoxious sounds.

“You need to get some rest.” He scooted back his chair, regaining her attention. “These keys are yours. I have my own set, but each door has a dead bolt that operates from the inside.”

Meaning she’d be entirely secure. “Thank you.” Another snicker escaped, but she corralled it with a shuddering inhale. “You’ve been incredibly helpful.”

“I’ll stop by tomorrow around noon to go over anything else you might need to know. In the meantime, my number is on the fridge, along with some emergency numbers. Channel guide is by the TV.”

“Oh, I need to give you your check.” She reached for her purse, but he stepped away from the table.

“Tomorrow is soon enough.” He stood in front of her, so tall and rugged, a pillar of strength, stealing her thoughts away before he stepped around her and headed for the front door. “Lock up behind me. And Marlow? Enjoy your first night in the new place.”

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