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She squared her shoulders. She’d moved on. They were adults now. No need to rehash the past.
And besides, she’d basically sabotaged her plan of the kind of reunion that would have him regretting his actions years ago by being found in a staircase. “Sure. You too,” she mumbled.
He waved as he climbed into his truck, and Sarah tested the strength of the deck railing before leaning against it. Several planks of the worn, weather-beaten wood had needed to be replaced years ago. In fact, the entire wraparound deck should have had a full teardown and rebuild. She had spent almost three days at the B&B, and everywhere she looked, something needed fixing or replacing. She didn’t need a contractor to explain to her the extent of the repairs needed to rehab the entire inn, and she wouldn’t even think about how much it might cost.
Selling it in its current state and leaving its fate to the new owner was the logical thing to do.
The sound of waves lapping against the shore and the familiar salty ocean-scented air did nothing to settle the uneasiness in her chest as the truck’s taillights disappeared from sight.
“Why me, Grandma?”
A question she’d never have answered.
Chapter Two
Sarah Lewis had inherited the inn.
Wes wouldn’t have bet his truck on that one. The friend he remembered from high school was book-smart bordering on genius, but she wasn’t exactly comfortable in social situations. The year they’d graduated, she’d won the award for Most Klutzy and, while those old awards seemed rather cruel in hindsight, it appeared she might still be in the running for it at their ten-year reunion.
Stuck in a staircase. He chuckled.
He’d always found her awkwardness endearing. And it had helped him not feel so intimidated by her when he was forced to endure the embarrassment of needing her tutoring to graduate.
Her grandmother must have had her reasons for choosing the one grandchild least capable of running an inn, but Wes wasn’t so sure the old lady had chosen correctly if she hadn’t wanted the place torn down.
Sarah had looked ready to drive the bulldozer herself.
Watching the inn deteriorate and then sit abandoned when Dove moved into a retirement facility had been heartbreaking. The B&B was located on the most easterly coast of Blue Moon Bay. Breathtaking views of the ocean at sunrise and sunset made it the perfect tourist destination for travelers looking for some R&R. The mild surf in that area of the beach was ideal for swimming and sunbathing, and a small alcove made it feel private and remote. There was even a shallow area for young kids to play without their parents needing to worry about a strong current or undertow.
Jagged cliffs in the distance gave a magnificent backdrop over the sandy shores, and the acres of green grass and lush vegetation surrounding the property required a lot less maintenance than the building itself. With the right renovations, Sarah could easily flip the place for a better price and the inn could live on.
If he had the money to buy it himself, he’d readily take it off her hands. Five years ago, when Dove had closed the inn, he’d been about to make an offer. Then Kelly had gotten sick, and things had changed so fast.
Before his wife’s fight with cancer, their lives had finally been headed in the right direction—after a few slight detours, including a failed pro football career. At least he’d made enough from his three seasons playing for the Rams to start his own construction business. Plan B wasn’t the dream, but buying his first property—a run-down vacation rental to fix up and flip—had been surprisingly easier than he’d thought, and it’d paid off.
That first successful venture had renewed his confidence in himself after the crushing setback. The success of the company also made it possible for Kelly to stay at home to raise Marissa, and they’d been talking about adding to their happy little family.
Then Kelly got sick.
Between the medical bills and paying for someone to look after the house and Marissa, the expenses increased while his ability to earn decreased as he spent more and more time with Kelly at the hospital. He’d missed opportunities, and his company’s reputation had taken a hit. He’d struggled the last five years trying to pay off those bills and get back the clients he lost when he was unavailable. Marissa was now nine, and being both mom and dad was challenging. He had her future to think about as well, so he had to find a way to turn things around and soon.
Pulling into his driveway, he climbed out of his truck and headed inside through the kitchen door. He stepped over boxes and sucked in his body as he wiggled past the small desk in the corner of the already cramped kitchen. His assistant/aunt Carmen was on the phone, and she glanced up in time to catch her coffee cup from spilling as his hip hit the desk.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
This definitely was not ideal working conditions. He desperately missed having an office. Moving them into his kitchen was supposed to have been temporary when he’d lost the lease on his office space, but it was going on three years now, and there were no concrete plans to move out of his home anytime soon.
“I’ll schedule you in for a quote next week,” Carmen said, rummaging through the papers on her messy desk to find a pen.
Next week? What was wrong with this week? Tomorrow, even. He grabbed a piece of paper on her desk and wrote:Why next week?
Had a new job miraculously popped up that would keep him booked until then?
She took the pen and wrote back:The illusion of being busy.
More like a delusion, if anyone in town believed that.
If he was busy, he wouldn’t be coaching every Little League team in town and teaching surfing lessons during the summer months to camp kids. There were tons of small jobs around town—deck repairs, painting, roofing…but he couldn’t bring himself to charge his friends and neighbors enough to be profitable after cost of supplies and paying his crew.
