Page 24 of Frosted and Sliced

“To chase me out of my attic hideout with strangers? You should.”

“No, that level of social aversion is on you. I feel bad that you have to work because all your money is going to my decrepit inn.” She bit her lip again.

Burke gave her a wry smile. “Georgette, don’t worry about it. I told you I have savings. I work when I want and only take the jobs I want. Now it’s my turn to ask you a question.”

“No, I will not tell you my secret cocoa recipe,” she deadpanned and it coaxed an actual laugh out of him.

“You’re assuming I don’t already have it. Remember I snooped.”

“It’s not written down,” she said, tapping her temple.

“What makes you believe I haven’t snooped your thoughts?” he asked, and she was suddenly reminded that he was part of the spy network, at least peripherally. That begged anotherquestion: exactly what had his job been? How did he know Elyse? Had he been a spy? Was he still?

“What’s your question?” she asked, more serious than she first intended.

“Do you really like having so many strangers in your space all the time?”

Her frown lines grew deeper. “Sometimes.”

“And other times?” he pressed.

“It’s a lot, trying to do it all myself. I think I’d enjoy it more if I had some help or a buffer. When I have people in my actual home, sharing my spaces with them, while acting as hostess, housekeeper, and cook? Yeah, it’s a lot.” She paused, debating if she wanted to say more, and then went for it. “I wanted to open a café.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“People, but in a different way. I was…afraid.”

“Of what?” he asked, eyes narrowing in that way they did whenever she mentioned something people did that hurt her feelings. Was Burke actually protective of her? Signs pointed to yes, though she couldn’t fathom why. Maybe common decency, an inability to stomach seeing the little guy get bullied.

“Of not being able to handle so many interactions. Sometimes it’s hard to follow along, during rapid fire conversations. Or when things get tense, busy, or heated. I sort of have to ease out of the conversation and observe for a while, to get my bearings. But you can’t do that when you’re a business owner or employer, and especially not in the middle of rush hour on a busy morning. Plus there’s all the background noise: conversations, the griddle, timers, music, the register. It seems too overwhelming.” She sat back, looking young and vulnerable in a way that neither of them liked. Georgie was soft and cute, but she was also a spitfire, and Burke liked her that way. Hecouldn’t stand to think of her as wounded or afraid, not when she’d worked so hard and come so far.

“It’s not too late. You could do both,” Burke suggested.

She shook her head vaguely. “It’s fine. Iamhappy here. I love my inn, and I wouldn’t want to leave it. There’s so much history. Some of these pieces are original to the house.”

“You lost me. I literally couldn’t care less about antiques,” he said. “Or stuff in general, really. I’m fine with everything I own fitting in a tote bag.”

“I can’t say I’m a collector, but I do think it’s kind of cool to be surrounded by history. Plus it’s aesthetically pleasing. Elyse says the videos she posts where I do tours of the inn are some of my most watched clips.”

She couldn’t fail to notice his grimace. “What?” she pressed.

“You have no idea who could be watching those videos, gathering intel on you,” he warned.

Georgie couldn’t stop herself from snorting. “Intel on me? Here’s my intel: I’m a hearing impaired orphaned pastry chef who owns an inn. That’s it, that’s the extent. If they want any of that, they’re welcome to it.”

Burke didn’t reply, but he couldn’t seem to tamp down the ball of discomfort in his gut. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Georgie was vulnerable. There were men who preyed on women like her, women who had possessions, were unattached, and had some sort of disability that put them at a disadvantage. “Just be careful,” he groused, suddenly uncomfortable with leaving her alone while he was on his work assignment.

If his thoughts weren’t troubled, he might have noticed Georgie’s conspicuous silence. She had been careful not to give too much information to her internet boyfriend; she wasn’t a moron. But the more time went on and she got to know Burke, she felt bad about not confessing her online relationship. Alongwith Brody and Elyse, he was now on the list of people she felt were owed an explanation.

On the other hand, it was only some online back and forth, not like they’d ever met in real life, or even had plans to. Was there any purpose in telling anyone, if nothing was actually going on?

While Georgie reviewed her situation, Burke’s mind turned to work. There were things he needed to tell Georgette, for her safety, if nothing else. But he didn’t want to, and the longer time went on, the harder confession became.

Soon,they both thought, each regarding the other.I’ll talk about it soon.

CHAPTER 11

There weren’t too many reasons people booked an inn in their part of Maine in the off season, especially a bridal party, unless they planned to get really, really drunk. Georgie always hoped for the best in these scenarios. She offered teas, complete with tiny sandwiches on homemade bread, but almost every time her optimism was wasted as soon as her guests came stumbling home, laughing, slurring, and drunk, so very, very drunk.

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