Page 30 of Making New Plans

I nodded, a few more clues about Hunter shifting into place. “I understand. Who knows, I might’ve done the same thing in your position.”

“Really?” Skepticism weighted his voice.

“Truly. You don’t know everything about me, Hunter Erickson. I’m not always Little Miss Sunshine with a 100-percent customer satisfaction record.”

His mouth tipped up in a smile. “Impossible.”

A huge yawn interrupted my answering smile. “Whew, I’d better head home. Get some sleep. The guests will have their free breakfast, then I’ll be back for the late checkouts I promised.”

Hunter nodded, his whiskery cheeks glowing in the sun. I could almost see his thoughts racing behind his eyes but couldn’t read them. Sometimes I believed he was having an entire conversation in his head without me. Like he had the words and things to say, but he chose not to. I couldn’t figure out why. Probably due to the precious little sleep I’d gotten.

“Well, good night,” I said. “Or good morning. Or see you later.” Nearly choking on awkwardness, I hurried to my car.

Once I turned on the engine and cranked the heater, I looked up to see him still standing there. He lifted his hand in a short wave then immediately turned and disappeared into the lodge.

Remembering something, I dug in my bag for my phone. Quickly, I typed out a message to the number that had called me this morning.

Me: Hey, this is Chloe! Thanks for giving me your number. Meet you at the front desk at 11. We’ve got a lot of work to do!

11

Hunter

For some ungodly reason, I woke up to my alarm feeling refreshed and ready to go. I’d set it for nine so I could shower, eat, and be ready for Chloe at eleven.

Usually when there were problems at the firm, I stayed just as late, if not later, than everyone else. But I’d turn into a monster by the end of it. Snapping and snarling at anyone within range and working over my yellow stress ball until it sagged in defeat.

But now? I glanced at Chloe’s message on my phone one more time, having already added her as a contact. At least holding onto her messages would be much easier and less hoarder-like than the stash of sticky notes I had hidden in my bag. I already had a plan of denial in place should the maid or Chloe find them.

I hoped she hadn’t noticed my relief when I realized she’d missed my notes. Reason one: I would’ve felt guiltier than I already did that it was partially my fault we were in this flooded mess. Reason two: I’d been more offended than I cared to admit that she hadn’t used my number yet. I’d resolved to never push the issue until I’d had to use her number off the desk sign.

Ready in record time and itching to do something to improve the situation, any situation, I made a quick stop in town. It seemed we weren’t the only ones hit with flooding, judging by Henrietta’s familiar truck parked near a few buildings by the river.

By the time Chloe stepped through the front doors, I was waiting at the front desk. Her eyes didn’t look quite as tired as the night before, and her sleek hair was back up in its ponytail instead of the messy bun I’d somewhat enjoyed earlier.

But her whole face—no, her whole body—lit up when she spied the tall, steaming takeout cup from Sarah’s Sugar Shack I’d carefully laid right next to her beloved sticky notes.

“Is that for me?” she breathed.

I nodded, my cotton tee shirt suddenly feeling too warm. My eyes widened when she wrapped her hands around the cup and brought it to her lips with a highly erotic moan. Every one of my muscles tightened as I struggled to keep myself from ripping the coffee cup away and replacing it with my lips, tongue, and teeth. Hmm, which would she be more pissed about? Losing her coffee or me kissing her?

Trying to focus on anything but my arousal, I grunted the least sexy thing I could think of. “So, how about that mold?”

She took another gulp and ran her tongue across her wet lips before responding. “Yep. It was on the list of things Henrietta told me might be an issue with a damp basement. We need to be running fans down there 24/7 to prevent it.”

Her words pinged against my ears like pebbles on glass while I stared at the mouth I was sure to have dreams about later.

I coughed. “Right. Fans, yeah. I’ll set up the few we have, but we might need more.”

“Got it covered. I’ve also been talking to a few other people who will be stopping by to help out with the laundry, the shelves, and the lost inventory.”

“Wow, did you sleep at all?”

She shrugged, guzzling more coffee. I’d gotten the biggest one available, full of whatever Sarah had said was her favorite. The brunette had leveled me with a hard, assessing look, clacking her pastry tongs like a menacing crab, when I’d asked. With a tempting display of cookies, muffins, and pastries, the shop was well-named for being full of sugar. Ironically, apart from its owner. But maybe she just didn’t like me, being the bane of her best friend’s existence and all.

Speaking of adversaries, Carter walked into the lodge in all his scowling, flannel, toolbox glory.

Any trace of a good mood vanished from my mind. “What’s he doing here?”

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