Page 106 of The Accidental Innkeeper

“Nonsense,” said Lola. “This is educational, darling.” She leaned in closer, stage-whispering. “Plus, the ocean breeze? Excellent motivation.”

Becca wheezed. “I’m never getting that image out of my head.”

“Good,” said Lola cheerfully. “That’s how memories are made.”

Becca wiped at her eyes. “I can’t believe this is my life.”

Lola grinned at all of us, clearly enjoying every second. “Stick around, ladies. I like an audience. Keeps things interesting.”

I stared at her. “You’re impossible.”

“Yet,” she said sweetly, looping the pearls back around her neck, “here we all are.”

Mark leaned in and whispered something in her ear that made her laugh, low and pleased.

I shook my head. “I will never look at boats the same way again.”

Becca snorted. “You say that now.”

“No,” I said firmly. “I mean it. Boats are officially charged environments.”

Becca cleared her throat. “Look who’s coming over,” she whispered to me.

Dust-guy was heading straight toward us, his hands in his pockets and posture easy like he wasn’t about to ruin my emotional equilibrium in broad daylight. The redhead trailed behind him, her fingers clamped around his arm again and her mouth pulled into a tight little line like she’d just bitten into something sour and decided to blame me for it.

Ooh. She was mad.

And not the dignified, silent-disapproval mad either. This was the territorial, I paid for this mad.

Great.

My spine went rigid. Every muscle in my body snapped to attention like we were under threat of attack. I suddenly became acutely aware of where I was standing, how I was standing, what my face was doing, and whether my hair looked like it had given up on life.

“Hey, New York,” said Dust-guy, calmly.

“Hi,” I replied, aiming for casual but landing somewhere near brittle.

Sabrina stepped closer, her grip tightening like she was afraid I might tackle him and drag him into the hydrangeas. Her eyes flicked over me, sharp and assessing, like she was mentally tallying flaws.

Good luck with that, lady. I’m a gold mine.

Dust-guy shifted slightly, angling his body so he was facing me more than her. That tiny movement did absolutely nothing to help my pulse.

“I won’t keep you,” he said. “I just wanted to say something before I go.”

“Right,” I said. “You’re the Handy Man for the Day.” I laughed, the sound high-pitched and forced. I sounded unhinged.

Brilliant response. Truly eloquent.

“I’m heading out after… this,” he continued, gesturing vaguely behind him, like the entire auction-and-date situation was a mild inconvenience instead of a full-blown circus. “Don’t know when I’ll be back.”

My chest tightened, like something had been cinched a notch too far. “That’s…” I stopped myself and restarted. “Okay.” I could feel Becca’s gaze on me. Hell, even Lola and Mark were all staring, but I couldn’t look at them.

Sabrina huffed loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Dust-guy reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded card. Held it out to me. “If you need help with the inn,” he said, “call this guy. Name’s Tom. Good work. Reliable. Won’t screw you over.”

The card felt heavier than it should’ve when I took it. I hated that my hand shook. “Thanks,” I said. My voice held, miraculously.