Page 8 of The Valentine Inn

I dropped my cookie and whispered, “Show me.”

He didn’t hesitate to close the distance between us, until we were sharing the same breaths. His fingers danced on my cheek, as if he were afraid it would break me if he increased the pressure of his delicate touch. Yet as light as his touch was, I felt it in the very core of my soul. It whispered he was my person. The George to my Daisy.

“Charlotte,” he said my name as if he worshipped me. His hot, minty breath warmed me better than the fire. “You are beautiful,” he whispered against my lips, before his gently landed on mine.

My hands happily found their way to his chiseled chest, my fingers pressed into his flesh, which was covered in goose bumps.

He nibbled on my lower lip, gently tugging on it.

Oh. Wow. I stopped breathing and wound my arms around his neck, silently begging him to continue. He didn’t disappoint. His tongue slid across my lip before dancing right into my mouth. Our tongues naturally tangled and tasted as if they were immediately at home. Yes, that was the perfect word for it. I had come home.

I leaned in more and he took me into his arms, pulling me onto his lap, where he drew me as close as he could, as if he never wished to let go. It never once crossed my mind that I had made another foolish choice. How could something so right ever be wrong?

Chapter One

SIX YEARS LATER

“You missed a spot.” Izzy walked in, wearing a Cheshire cat grin that never meant anything good for me.

I set the roller in the tray and wiped my brow while trying to find the spot on the wall my sister claimed I missed. The newly painted alabaster wall seemed perfectly even to me. But for all I knew I had painted my own eyes alabaster by this point. I swear we had been painting for eons. “Where?” I finally gave up searching and asked.

A smug Izzy walked across the plastic-covered hardwood floors and pointed at the obvious spot where the old robin’s egg blue paint was bleeding through. “Right here.”

I sighed, lowered myself to the floor, and dramatically laid down. “Why did we think this was a good idea?” I lamented.

Izzy lay next to me. Her perfect dark curls splayed out. Our parents used to call her Snow White and me Sleeping Beauty, on account of how contrasting our hair was. But truly, it was Izzy who was the beauty, with her red wine lips and creamy complexion. No one would guess she had just turned forty.

Izzy took my hand and squeezed it. “Dreams take hard work.” She always knew the right thing to say.

I looked up at the newly installed noble bronze ceiling fan in the guest room we would call the Kate and Alex room. Kate and Alex from The Lake House, one of Izzy’s and my favorite movies. The room would eventually have love letters plastered to the wall, hopefully many from future guests, and an old rustic mailbox would hold the guest towels. Every room at the inn had a romantic couples theme from either a famous book or movie, with the exception of one room. That room was going to be named for the special couple who had made their dream come true and then entrusted Izzy and me to carry it on.

When George decided to sell the Old Rock Church Inn, I was the first person he’d called. He said he knew from the first moment we met that the beloved place would be mine eventually. He was the craziest and sweetest old man, but he was right—the place called to me. Over the last several years, I had visited the inn and George as often as I could. Each time it got harder and harder to leave.

I squeezed Izzy’s hand. “Thanks for helping me make this dream a reality.”

“Well, I’m about to make another one of your dreams come true,” she sang.

I turned my head toward her. “Please tell me it’s the one where I get to sleep for eight hours straight and actually wake up feeling refreshed.” I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

Izzy laughed. “Honey, I said I was making your dream come true, not taking you to fantasy island.”

“Fine.” I smiled. “Tell me.”

“I found the money to buy the Swarovski Crystal French Empire chandelier you’ve been drooling over.”

I popped up. “What? Really? How?” I had been going through our budget like crazy trying to find any way possible to buy that baby. The ballroom begged for it. But I could never find a way to make it work. Those thousands of dollars were needed elsewhere, as in a new roof, new pipes, an HVAC system, and other necessities.

Izzy sat up, too, looking a bit pensive, biting her lower lip.

---