“None.”
Her lips parted like she was going to say more, but then she caught herself, smiled again, and started repacking the bags.
I stood there for a moment longer, watching her.
And for the first time since arriving in Buttercup Lake, I didn’t feel like a man passing through.
I felt like someonearriving.
Chapter Nineteen
Fifi
He said he’d come.
He said he’d come.
I smiled to the kitchen, and then I reached the back hallway and promptly had a full-blowninternal breakdownby the mop closet.
What had I done?
I was not emotionally equipped for this level of potential. There were marshmallows at stake. There was eye contact at stake. There werefeelingsat stake.
I had crossed the line from being a cute innkeeper with a harmless crush to a woman arranging social encounters like a strategic field commander, armed with snacks and optimism.
And the problem?
He’d agreed.
Which meant I had to go through with it.
Which meant—oh God—I had toseehim.
Andtalkto him.
And possiblysitnear him in the flickering light of a fire like some overly enthusiastic Hallmark heroine trying not to accidentally fall in love.
I opened the fridge and stared at a block of cheddar.
I closed the fridge and opened it again.
The cheese offered no answers.
Dang it.
I ran through the checklist: s’mores? Check. Drinks? Check. Paper napkins with little cartoon pine trees? Check. Emotional preparedness?Unconfirmed.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and told myself to chill out. Just breathe. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t anything.
“Just chill like an ice cube.”
“Always good advice,” Sienna said, walking into the kitchen.
“Not you again.” I stared at her, and she chuckled.
“I just came to see if I could offer any help, advice, or extra hands for your big night.”
“This is not a big night. It’s a regular night. Just me doing what I do to ensure our little lodge gets the good ratings.”
