Page 45 of Making New Plans

But only Mable and George were puttering around the kitchen when I pushed the door open. We greeted each other, George a bit frostier than necessary. I understood that he was protective of Chloe, but I wasn’t going to abduct her or whatever he imagined.

Mable handed me a blueberry scone on a napkin, and I took it with a smile. She eyeballed my injured, wrapped hand, so I tried to eat before she could give me the third degree. I had just shoveled half the scone into my mouth when the door banged open. Spinning around, crumbs flying, I gaped at Chloe in the doorway.

“Oh, hey,” she said breathlessly, her sapphire eyes cruising up and down my body.

Discreetly, I tried to brush the crumbs off my face and clothes while she manhandled the coffee machine. “Good morning. Did you, uh, sleep well?” Wow, I really did suck at small talk.

She smiled over her shoulder at me. “Yep. You?”

“Yep.”

Facing me, she took a sip of her coffee, and I took a bite of my scone.

She fiddled with her ponytail. “Even though I showered, I think I still smell like a campfire.”

George and Mable gave up any pretense of washing dishes to stare at us. It made me feel like an army of ants was marching over my skin.

I shuffled my feet. “Yeah? That’s a bummer. I showered, too. I mean, last night I did. Before sleeping. But your doctor work held up great.” I lifted my bandaged hand and waved it like a moron.

“Oh, that’s great. Does it still hurt?” Her voice sounded squeaky. Maybe she found this equally nerve-wracking.

“Not really. I’m sure it’ll be fine in no time.”

She hummed and gulped more coffee, darting glances at Mable and George who stood there, eyebrows raised, as if waiting for the big reveal.

Chloe cleared her throat. “Well, Hunter, shall we? Get started? Out front?”

Taking her cue, I wolfed down the rest of the scone. “Absolutely.”

Mable didn’t even wait for us to leave before she dashed for the other door, muttering something about needing to make a call, with the feverish look of someone who had hot gossip to spread.

Once out of earshot at the front desk, Chloe laughed. “I do believe we just made Mable very popular with Monty’s gossip mongers.”

I smiled, finding that small action easier and easier to do around her. “Probably.”

She set her coffee down and started flipping through her planner and the guest book, something she did every morning. Soaking in a few quiet moments of watching her, I thought about discussing last night with her. Telling her how much it meant to me. She’d found me at a rock-bottom moment, hurling my dad’s favorite possessions into the trash can, mired in rage and something that felt like grief. And somehow, she’d drawn me back up, like a bucket out of a deep, dark well.

But I didn’t get the chance.

The phone rang. Then guests checked out. Rooms had to be cleared double-time because the maid was sick. The bakery vendor took up an hour time slot and a good chunk of my sanity, arguing over stale bagels. Then Chloe had to run errands in town while I held down front desk operations. The next time I looked at the clock, it was almost time for Sal’s class.

Chloe still wasn’t back yet, so I figured she would probably go straight to the class from her errands. I left the sign on the desk in case our guests needed anything. The Kostellos were still here and had stopped by to tell me they planned to hit every shop around the Tangled River square. Our new guests, a family of four and a young couple, were settled in with brochures, maps, and my quickest rundown of the logistics. To be honest, I wasn’t too shabby at this. But no way was I making a career change.

Running upstairs, I threw on my loose black pants and a black tank top with my hoodie zipped up over it. I laced up my gym shoes, since this probably wasn’t a barefoot thing like I was used to. I skipped my rental car in favor of walking there. Those Tangled River maps we handed out to every guest were damn near emblazoned on my mind by now, especially with people still needing things pointed out to them. But it meant I had no trouble finding my way to Uffda with its neon orange sign.

Like most every other business in Tangled River, Uffda was situated right off the town square, close to Monty’s. Whether that was a brilliant idea or a counterproductive one, I wasn’t sure.

A few cars were parked out front, but from peeking through the windows, I saw plenty more people than cars milling around the mirrored studio. Psyching myself up like I did before any new, big-group thing, I took a deep breath, put my game face on, and stepped inside.

About a dozen people had shown up for class before the start time. No doubt fear of Sal was a powerful motivator. I tried to look for Chloe without being too obvious, but a few people were already glancing over at me, the new guy. The guy they’d probably already heard all about. Gritting my teeth, I contemplated leaving for half a second when I heard my name.

“Hey, Hunter!”

I turned to see Owen making his way toward me in a loose workout shirt and shorts. Relief flashed quick and bright at the sight of a friendly, familiar face. We did a guy handshake.

“What am I in for?” I asked, still surveying the crowd of yoga pants, sports bras, and one other guy, who looked nervous and stuck close to a young woman’s side. Couple bonding through exercise probably.

Owen grinned. “A real treat. You know, you’re pretty brave doing this. Sal got something on you?”

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