Page 64 of Second Chance at Sunshine Inn

She found both white and yellow paint splotches dotting her blue tank top. She laughed again and then met his hopeful gaze. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re not a mess. You’re pretty perfect,” he said, and the compliment took her by surprise. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “Since I spent the afternoon and evening helping you paint, have I finally earned your phone number?”

“Oh.” She paused for a moment. “I-I guess so.” She rattled off the number, and he programmed it into his phone before winking at her.

Then he waved his phone in the air. “I’ll call you, okay?”

“Sure. Thanks again.”

“Anytime.” He jogged over to his truck, which beeped as he unlocked it.

“Good night.” She watched him drive away and then returned to the kitchen, where she consulted the window. Cade’s apartment was dark now, and she imagined him tossing and turning in his bed.

Pushing away from the counter, she padded down the hallway toward her suite. As she stepped into the shower, she tried to oust all thoughts of Cade. She couldn’t wait to see him in the morning, and when she did, she planned to force that stubborn man to open up—whether he wanted to or not.

Chapter 16

“Good morning,” Everleigh sang. She swept into the kitchen around seven o’clock, and the delicious scent of bacon washed over her. She had set her alarm for six forty-five and was planning to help him cook, but it seemed he’d gotten an early start. “What smells so incredible?”

Cade kept his back to her as he worked. “Quiche,” he mumbled.

“Yum.” She came to stand beside him at the counter, where he was assembling yogurt parfaits in tall glasses. “You’re up early.” Her heart pinched when she took in his chiseled profile and found dark circles under his dull eyes. “That looks deliciousandbeautiful.”

He kept working as if he didn’t hear her, and renewed worry twined through her.

“Need some help?” She pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“You can set the table,” he muttered. “Make coffee.”

“All righty!” She tried to keep her tone light despite the anxiety nibbling at her. After starting the coffee maker, she began pulling Alana’s fine china out of the buffet in the dining room. Cadecontinued to work at the counter, his spine and shoulders rigid and his expression empty, almost unreadable.

She set the dishes on the table but couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you mad at me, Cade?” she suddenly blurted out. The silence was tearing her apart.

Cade stilled but never turned to face her. “No.”

“I can’t stand it when you’re quiet,” she whined, almost embarrassed by the desperation in her voice. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

She carefully placed the silverware and racked her brain for a way to convince the man to speak. After the table was ready for their four guests, she walked back into the kitchen. “Cade, last night you promised to talk to me.” She folded her hands as if saying a prayer. “Please, I wish you would,” she pleaded. “I’m worried about you, and I want to help.”

He finished the last parfait before scrubbing his hands.

Everleigh held her breath. The only sound in the kitchen came from the running water and muted footsteps of the guests milling about above them.

When she’d almost given up hope, Cade leaned back against the sink and wiped his hands on a paper towel. The sadness in his eyes sent a pang through her. Whatever was bothering him was serious. “I’m not angry with you, Everleigh.”

“Then what is it?”

He tossed the used paper towel in the trash can. “Yesterday was a disaster.”

“With your mom?”

He nodded. She waited for him to elaborate, but he remained silent, his jaw set in stone.

“What happened?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.” He examined the timer on the stove.

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