Page 105 of The Accidental Innkeeper

Becca took another sip of wine, her gaze still fixed on him. “I’m just saying. That man is not thinking about that redhead’s itinerary. He wants your ass. I’m telling you.”

I glanced back at Dust-guy just in time to catch his eyes flicker away, like he’d heard us. Or felt me looking.

At that moment, I realized I didn’t feel queasy anymore. Barely.

Thank you, Dottie and your questionable swamp elixir.

“You should ask him out,” added Becca, tipping her glass and finishing off her wine.

I stared at her. “I’ve never asked a guy out before. It’s always been the other way around. You?”

That strange look crossed Becca’s face again, the flicker I’d caught earlier, quick and gone, like a thought she hadn’t meant to let surface. I’d seen the same one when she’d been staring at some guy in the crowd whose face I hadn’t quite managed to clock.

“Me neither,” she said finally. Her smile snapped back into place, bright and effortless, like she’d just closed a mental door. “But at least you know he won’t turn you down. It’s written all over his face.” She tilted her head, her eyes dancing. “And it’s written all over yours.”

I scoffed. “It is not.”

Becca raised a brow. “Sarah. You’re both one stiff breeze away from ripping each other’s clothes off. You’re hot for each other. Admit it.”

I laughed, heat creeping up my neck. “You make it sound so classy.”

“I am classy,” she said. “I just call it like I see it.”

And I liked her. I really did. This cousin once removed of mine, direct, observant, and slightly dangerous to my sense of self-control, was growing on me fast.

“We’ll see,” I said lightly. Total lie.

Part of me felt unhinged and rebellious, like the version of me who played it safe had been shoved into a broom closet and told to sit quietly while the rest of me contemplated doing something wildly out of character.

Why shouldn’t I ask Dust-guy out?

Maybe he was waiting for me to make the first move. Maybe he didn’t know how to approach it without crossing some imaginary professional line. After all, I technically had hired him to evaluate the inn. Maybe he thought it would be inappropriate.

Which was funny, considering we’d already blown past inappropriate somewhere around the kissing-in-the-den mark.

I glanced across the lawn again, my heart doing that annoying hopeful thing. Maybe for once, I didn’t have to wait to be chosen.

Maybe I could choose.

“Well,” said Lola breezily as she swept over to us, already tugging Mark along by an extra-long pearl necklace like she’d just won him at an upscale carnival, “I’m off to have lots of sex on a boat.”

Ah. Here we go.

The grin on Mark’s face said he was not only on board with that plan but had already mentally rearranged the sails to accommodate it.

“Slut,” came Dottie’s voice from somewhere behind us, loud and affectionate.

Lola didn’t even flinch. Her smile widened proudly. “Dream big, Dottie.” She turned her attention to me, her eyes sparkling. “Have you ever had sex on a boat, Sarah?”

I immediately inhaled wrong and choked on my own spit. “What? Uh… no. I don’t think so.” I paused. Is that something people forget?

Becca dissolved into giggles beside me, one hand over her mouth, the other clutching her wine. “Well,” Lola continued thoughtfully, “if you time the rocking of the boat just right, you barely have to do any work. Physics handles the rest.”

Mark’s hand slid to her lower back, his smile turning downright feral. “I’m very good with physics.”

Lola purred. “I knew I liked you.”

I made a face. “I feel like I should cover my ears.”