Page 40 of Resting Beach Face
Everyone looked at me, waiting for an answer. I shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, Cash is a friend. He’s here to help me with a project at the B&B.”
Cash leaned back into the room. “Tom, you’re set. Just go down to Swallow Adventures over at the resort near dusk. They’ll take care of you.”
“Thank you so much.”
He turned. “Declan, you ready to get to work yet?”
“I’ve been ready,” I grumbled as I pushed back my chair and crossed the room toward him. “You were too busy charming everyone to notice, I guess.”
Cash grinned, gaze panning to the guests. “Don’t mind him. He likes to pretend to be grouchy, but he really loves me.”
Janice chuckled. “How could he not?”
“I know, right? I’m awesome.” Cash grasped my arm and tugged me from the room. “Hope you don’t mind me cutting your breakfast short?”
“Please, I wanted out of there before breakfast started.”
We re-entered the kitchen, heading for the back door. There was a path that led through the gardens and over to the outbuildings. That was where the majority of work needed to be done.
“Maybe you should be running a B&B,” I said as we walked. “You play host pretty well.”
“I guess I’ve picked up a thing or two working at the resort.”
No one picked up social skills like that. Cash was a natural people person, just like my Aunt Millie—except flirtier. That reminded me of how I’d put my foot in my mouth at breakfast.
“I’m sorry about that crack about dating,” I said. “It was a stupid thing to say.”
“Especially since you won’t date me,” Cash said, arching a dark eyebrow.
I winced. “I don’t remember you ever asking me on adate.”
“Would you say yes if I did?”
“No.”
“Well, there you go.” He swept his gaze over the landscape, which included the cabin, the Tree Hut, a garden shed, and an overgrown gazebo that had seen better days. “Show me what we’re working with.”
“All right,” I said grimly. “Don’t forget that you asked for this.”
He grinned. “I never turn down a challenge.”
Somehow, I got the sense he was talking about more than renovations.
CHAPTER NINE
Cash
The Roost wasan octagon-shaped cabin built on top of a hill—amongst a thick cluster of trees—with steps set into the earth at two-foot intervals leading up to it. Wild grass and weeds had overtaken the path. Declan’s regular gardening around the main house clearly didn’t extend this far.
We picked our way to the door and Declan pulled out a keyring. “I keep it locked, but sometimes teens find their way in and trash it. This won’t be pretty.”
He was right. The empty beer bottles, broken glass, and trash didn’t concern me as much as the rotting floor boards under a boarded-over window. Judging by the bubbled paint on the windowsill and the discoloration of the wall, water had gotten in.
Not much of a loss, considering the walls were cheap paneling. We’d need to hang sheetrock and paint. Patch the floor and refinish it or lay carpet, if Declan wanted to take the easier route.
That was all cosmetic and easily dealt with.
I spun in a circle, taking in the angled walls that formed the octagon shape of the building. A large window set into each gave absolutely stunning views. Even though The Roost was farther inland than the main house and the Tree Hut, it was also on an incline and had a perfect view across Declan’s property to the lake.
