Page 11 of Just One Chance

"I know you're upset. But this is our decision, and we're still the owners," Dad said.

I leaned in, resting my elbows on the table. "Everyone gets a vote."

"We want to take care of the inn's renovation so that you don't have to. And we want to make sure that it's the best it can be. Everyone will be able to vote on her suggestions."

"I'm very good at evaluating what a hotel needs and making recommendations to take it to the next level." Kennedy's tone was professional.

"You want to modernize everything. Make everything slick and white with plugs for everyone's devices." I shuddered at the idea of plugs in furniture.

"That is important to guests. They want to be able to charge their devices."

"They come here for a break from that stuff," I insisted.

"Boone," Dad warned.

The waitress appeared. "Morning, Mr. and Mrs. Hart. What can I get you?"

Everyone ordered drinks, and I was fairly sure I growled something about coffee. Black. I certainly didn't need anything sweet in my life. I wanted bitter coffee that would wake me up because this had to be a dream. There was no way my one-night stand was sitting at the table with my parents discussing the future of the inn.

When the server left, Dad leaned in. "We're asking you to keep an open mind about this."

"Fine," I said with gritted teeth. I felt like a reluctant teenager who knew my parents always got the last word anyway. What was the point of fighting about this in front of Kennedy? I'd go along with it, but they couldn't make me be happy about it.

"Boone hand makes furniture, and he'd like to design the inn's furniture. It needs an update, and we're not sure which direction to go in," Mom said.

"Handmade furniture is expensive—" Dad began.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm family. I'm not going to overcharge you."

"And it takes a long time to make. Do we want to wait for all the pieces to be handcrafted, or is it better to go with something already on the market?" he continued.

"I think it's great you make furniture," Kennedy said.

"Boone designed the bar, the stools, and the tables and chairs at the brewery," Mom said with pride in her tone.

I leaned back in my chair, wondering why my parents were promoting my work to the person who would undoubtedly want something new and shiny for the inn's interior. Kennedy wouldn't care about history or nostalgia or how important they were to our brand.

"You should see the brewery. It's a great example of what we're trying to create here. A sense of family and history," Dad said proudly.

Kennedy nodded. "I'd love to see it."

The waitress returned, and we ordered breakfast. I wasn't hungry. Not anymore.

I sat next to Kennedy, feeling like I didn't know her at all. Spending the night with her was a mistake. One I didn't want to repeat. No matter how much I was attracted to her.

There was no way I'd be going back for seconds. I'd be her tour guide, but I certainly wouldn't be sleeping with the woman who had the power to ruin my future.

4

KENNEDY

"My parents were going through a hard time financially and didn't want to sell any land. They decided to rent out the rooms in the main house since it was so large. At first, they lived in one of the rooms on the third floor, which is why the one suite has a kitchen. When reservations increased, they built a house nearby and moved into it," Raymond said.

"I can't imagine living in this house. It's so beautiful," I murmured, very much aware that Boone was sitting next to me.

His stance was deceptively relaxed, but I could feel the tension radiating off him. He wasn't happy I was here, and he was even more pissed that we'd slept together.

Despite his sweet note, there was no way he'd want to continue what we'd started last night. I was fairly sure he wanted me to leave as soon as possible.