Page 43 of Falling Inn Love
I slide onto the stool next to Beth where she’s already set a plate for me. “Thank you for lunch. Again.”
“You’re welcome.” She looks over at me and smiles, and I realize the shyness is almost gone. She’s more calm and confident now than she was when she got here.
We dive into Cuban sandwiches, sweet potato chips, and homemade pickles.
“Sasha,” I moan into my sandwich. “These are so good. Are these your homemade pickles?”
“Thank you, and yes they are. We need to find someone to help with the garden this year. Someone who actually loves gardening, someone who is not me. I like cooking, not gardening,” she says as she wipes down her counter.
Mellie’s eyes light up. “I love gardening. Can I help?”
I tilt my head at Sasha, who answers, “Yes. We have our seasonal help coming back for housekeeping, right?”
“We do,” I say. “And I’m also happy to help you with any gardening, too, Sasha.”
We grow all our own herbs and most of our vegetables. We’ve talked about expanding and setting up a farmer’s market on the property, but we haven’t had the staff to do it. Maybe that’s another way we can get Beth to stay?
Mellie looks at Beth. “What’s new?” she asks her. “Haven’t had a chance to catch up with you lately.”
“Actually, I’ve been working on the website,” Beth tells her.
Sasha pulls up our website on her phone. “Speaking of, Beth, this looks so good. We even have a tab for the dining room. I love it!”
“Thank you,” Beth says. “It’s a work in progress, but we’re getting there.”
I reach out and squeeze Beth’s thigh under the table and she leans her head on my arm.
“Kase, you want to help me with the puppies after lunch?” I ask. “I’m trying to teach them to walk on their leashes better.”
He sets his milk down. “Yep. Mom said I can pretend they’re mine too.”
“They’re yours too, buddy. They live here, and so do you. You don’t have to pretend.” I see Mellie watching us, smiling. She mouths, “Thank you,” to me. I nod back.
“Hey, how’s your mom doing with Allie and Caleb?” Sasha asks.
“Good. We’re waiting to hear more about the transplant. I may have to fly out quickly when they schedule it.”
Sasha’s eyes fill with hope. “It’s going to be okay, kiddo.” She squeezes my shoulder.
* * *
That afternoon, I head out to run errands while Beth handles the front desk.
When I stop for gas, I see Hamilton pull up and get out to pump gas into his Audi sports car. I hold my head forward, thankful I’m wearing sunglasses so he doesn’t see me watching him.
I finish pumping my own gas and when I turn around, he’s standing a few feet from me like a damn little annoying leprechaun. He reminds me of an angry little Danny DeVito.
“I thought that was you,” he says. “I haven’t heard from you. Did you still want to accept the bank's offer?” His eyes aren’t kind.
I stare at him, expressionless. He looks nervous before finally moving aside so I can get past him.
I have no idea what his game is, but I’m not playing. This is my inn, my family’s legacy, and he’s picked the wrong man to try and bully.
EIGHTEEN
BETH
You give good hugs.
