Page 4 of The Beach House With You 2

“Yeah, well, you would be too if you hadn’t slept through all of the ruckus,” Franny mumbled back, crossing her arms.

Seeing this, Carmen laughed and elbowed her best friend gently in the ribs.

“Come on, Grumpy Gus, let’s go find some coffee. You’ll feel better after some caffeine.”

She shuffled her clothes around her suitcase until she found the matching black hoodie that went with her sweatpants, and pulled it on over her tank top. Not bothering to look in the mirror, she did her best to pull her mess of curls into a hair tie and went for the door. Franny was right behind her as Carmen opened it, but as she went to step through, a plank of wood came flying her way. With a screech, she threw her body backward, her back flying into Franny so that they both went tumbling to the ground.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” a man said, his words flying out in a panic as he dropped the plank and reached to help them.

“I can’t believe I just did that!” he said, reaching for Carmen’s hand. “Did I hit you?

Please tell me I didn’t hit you. Oh God, Jason will never let me live this down.”

Carmen looked up angrily at the man who was still apologizing profusely and shooed his hand away. He was young like her, and way too good-looking to be so kind. Which, for some reason, only made her more annoyed.

“I’m fine,” she told him, helping Franny up and turning to her friend. “Are you okay, Franny?”

“I’m alright.” Franny sighed, brushing herself off once back on her feet. “Good thing my booty’s so big, though, otherwise we both might be a little bruised up.” She folded her arms in frustration and narrowed her eyes at the young man.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be trained in safety or something?” she asked sarcastically.

A deep blush bloomed underneath the man’s honey complexion, and his hazel eyes went to the floor. He pulled the white hard hat off his head and held it between his hands, revealing a full head of short, brown, spiky hair.

“I am. I mean we do,” he sputtered, holding his hard hat against his well-fitting, white t-shirt. “I wasn’t aware that Amanda and Whitney were receiving more guests, so I leaned the wood against your door. I am so sorry about that.”

Carmen and Franny gave each other a look as they seemed to communicate silently back and forth. After a few stressful seconds, they both shrugged and looked back toward the young man.

“We accept your apology,” Carmen assured him.

“But we are staying in this room for two weeks,” Franny added, “so please don’t let it happen again.”

The man breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at them, revealing a set of straight, flashing white teeth.

“Thank you,” he replied with a quick bow of my head, “and of course, it won’t happen again. I’ll let my crew know right away.”

More relaxed now, he stuck out his hand and met Carmen’s eyes.

“I’m Jacob Priestley, by the way. Foreman of Provincetown Properties.”

Carmen accepted his handshake, feeling more at ease knowing that she wasn’t about to be knocked out by a piece of phantom wood.

“I’m Carmen, and this is my best friend, Franny. We’re not really guests. Or, paying guests anyway. We’re here visiting my mom, Jeanette. Her cousins Amanda and Whitney own this place.”

Jacob’s eyes lit up as he finished shaking their hands, and smiled.

“I should have known that, given the resemblance,” he replied jovially. “Your mom is awesome. She keeps us all fed and keeps Jason off our backs when we’re running behind.” He laughed as he put his hard hat back on.

“She’s a heck of a lady. All three of them are. Well, welcome to Provincetown, and I promise you, no more boards will be flying at your head. That’s a promise.”

“One I’ll hold you to,” Carmen said, breaking into a small smile.

* * *

“Girls! There you are.” Jeanette beamed as Carmen and Franny walked into the kitchen. “I was getting ready to come up with a tray. How’d you both sleep?”

“Good morning, Mom,” Carmen said warmly, accepting her mother’s hug. On the counter, she spotted the tray set with coffee cups, a carafe, a small pitcher for creamer, and a plate of toasted English muffins already spread with butter and strawberry jam. Her smile grew bigger as she saw this, appreciating that her mom had prepared one of her favorite breakfasts.

“I slept great,” she continued, moving the tray to the table, “but the construction woke Franny up.”

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