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Turning, she spotted a man heading her way.

He was jogging across the turf—maybe the path had been too crowded—and he looked focused on the task. Tall and well-built, he was clearly athletic. She couldn’t tell what color hair he had under the navy wool hat pulled low on his head, but if she had to guess, she’d say it was dark.

It would match the stubble along his firm jaw.

Yum.

As he drew closer, his eyes met hers for a brief moment, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a quick smile that revealed a single dimple. Then he lifted two fingers in a casual wave, like someone who knew half the town, before he jogged past. Alesha felt as though the temperature outside had suddenly jumped a few—okay, several—degrees. She offered a shy smile in return, unable to resist admiring the view as he kept moving.

Eye candy from the front and the back, she thought.

And then mentally cursed herself for not being the athletic type. If she were, she could’ve simply hopped off the swing and joined him.

“Damn ice cream,” she muttered as she stood and turned toward home.

Reece Barrett was ready to bang his head against the wall.

Again.

Why had he thought helping his parents with the renovations on The Daily Scoop would be a good idea? Sure, the timing was great—no one was doing construction over the holidays, so he had some free time—but he had a feeling this was going to turn into more than he originally planned. His morning jog normally helped him clear his head and get ready to take on the day, but nothing could have prepared him for this. His parents were driving him crazy.

When they first mentioned doing some work on the ice cream shop, he thought it was nice—some fresh paint, new pictures, maybe some new tables and chairs. Then it snowballed into something more, and somehow he was being conned into spending all his free time there. His construction business had been keeping him extremely busy with both residential and commercial jobs, but this time of year was always slow.

Something his mother kept reminding him of while praising herself for being a solution.

Lucky me, he thought.

“So we’ve been talking it over and we think we’d like to turn the upstairs into usable space,” his mother said as she spread out some drawings on the table. Marlene Barrett was many things, but artistic wasn’t one of them. Her drawings resembled something Reece would have pegged as coming from a preschooler—stick figures and all.

“Mom…”

She held up a hand to stop him. “No, no, trust me. It’s going to be good. We’re going to use the space upstairs for extra seating and maybe a meeting space—you know, something smaller than the community center.”

“Much smaller,” Reece commented. “There are a lot of things involved in something like this. That space was built for storage. We have no idea if it could handle the weight of everything you’re wanting to do. I’ll need to get an engineer in here, and we’ll have to talk to the town about zoning…we can’t just go up and do this. Are you prepared for the possibility that it might not work out?”

His mother looked at him as if he had broken her heart. Tears welled in her eyes. “But…but it would be something wonderful…”

Suddenly feeling like an ogre, he reached out and touched her hand. “Yes, it would, but there are structural issues that we’ll have to check on, and you’ll probably need to get some approval from your neighbors. They may not want something like this.”

Just then, his father walked over and pulled up a chair, placing a cup of coffee in front of Reece. “We’ve already talked to Dave Jenkins next door at the bowling alley. He couldn’t care less what we do with the space.”

“And what about Mr. Reed?” Reece asked, staring down at his coffee. “Surely he gets a say in this too. His space is like yours, and I’m sure people already use the bookstore as a meeting place.”

“We tried talking to him about it, but he keeps putting us off. Honestly, he’s so busy this time of year that it’s hard to find a time when the bookstore isn’t packed,” his father said. “But I can’t imagine he’d have a problem with it.”

That was probably true, and he really couldn’t imagine there being any issues with this proposed renovation. But small-town businesses were funny and tended to get territorial when one business encroached on any aspect of theirs. Maybe Mr. Reed wouldn’t mind his parents putting in a loft with meeting space, but…right now, it was anyone’s guess.

“I have an idea,” Marlene said, smoothing out her drawings. “Maybe you can go over and talk to him! It’s been ages since he’s done any work on the place, and maybe you can do some updates on his loft and storage space and get more work to help you get through the holiday season! Oh! Can you imagine how great that would be? You wouldn’t have to worry about your bills!”

“Just hold on,” Reece quickly interrupted. “First, I’m not worried about my bills. The business has been very successful. The work I did on the Lakeview Harbor Resort alone made me more money than I ever imagined.”

“But…”

“And the only reason I’m not working right now is because no one wants their houses torn up during the holidays.” Pausing, he let out a long breath. “I get that you’re excited about all the possibilities, but I don’t need to go and ask Mr. Reed if I can demolish his loft during his peak season.”

“Well,” Marlene began a bit bashfully, “I suppose that makes sense. I was just worried about you, that’s all. It’s what mothers do. No matter how old their children get.”

Great. Guilt. “Why don’t we just focus on the upstairs for now?” he replied casually, reaching for one of the drawings. After a minute of trying to figure out which way he was supposed to be looking at it, he put it back down. “How about you show me the space and tell me what you’re thinking?”