Page 24 of Inn To You

“Want to know what my wish was?” Jonas’s voice rises with eager excitement. He wants to spill..

“You can’t tell anyone.” I brush back his floppy hair. “Then it won’t come true.”

“You said I shouldn’t keep a secret, though,” Jonas reminds me, and Noah coughs beside me, stifling a chuckle.

“Yes, but remember we talked about how secrets and wishes are two different things. Sometimes, a secret can hurt someone. A wish should be happy. We never wish for people to be hurt.”

Jonas nods once, his little lips pursing as he contemplates a lesson he’s been told many times.

A moment of weighted silence passes, before Jonas says, “I still want to share my wish.”

“Okay, but it might not come true once you speak it.”

“But it might?” Jonas asks.

“It’s your wish, Jonas. Risk it, if you will.” I wink at him. He knows the wish rules, but I’m often curious what he dreams for in his head.

After another thought-filled minute, Jonas decides to keep his wish to himself. I do the same because I know what I’d wish for.

I’d wish Noah’s kisses meant something.

I’d wish he’d be more than temporary.

+ + +

“You cold?” Noah asks me.

We’d been outside for hours, and while the day warmed up and the sun shined brightly, the afternoon was by no means hot. Between the morning walk in the brisk air and a long day of outdoor activity, I’m chilly. My face feels warm, but I’m shivering while sweating.

I sniffle. “Maybe just a little.”

We’d been treasure hunting for longer than normal and actually found some amazing pieces of nature. I love how you find something where you least expect to.

“Your face is red. Did you get sunburned?” Noah teases.

I can’t see how that is possible, and I swallow around a tickle in my throat. “It’s nothing, but I think it’s time for Jonas and me to head home.”

Jonas groans, but we trek back through the trees near our property. The walk feels longer than it should. My legs ache in a way they shouldn’t, and I’m suddenly exhausted.

“You okay?” Noah asks as we meander over the damp forest floor.

“Yeah. Maybe just an allergic reaction or something.” I sniffle again. Springtime pollen, I guess.

Noah reaches out a hand to my forehead, and I flinch when he touches me. “What are you doing?”

“You’re burning up.”

“I’m just sweaty,” I reply, embarrassed.

“I think you have a fever.”

“I can’t.” I mean, I could, but I don’t have time to be sick. I need to nail down that loan or stall Uncle Joe on the sale of my precious inn.

“I’m fine,” I mutter, huddling into my jacket, which hardly feels like it’s holding warmth. My teeth chatter.

“Little bird,” Noah whispers beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. My gaze seeks Jonas, who walks ahead of us, not paying attention to the fact a man has his arm around me.

“I’m not little,” I mutter. Why is it suddenly so cold?