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“Plenty of women would love to be my tree nymph, thank you very much. I was just curious about the woman—that’s all,” I say before changing the subject. “How did that rule work out for you and Willa?”
“Technically, Willa was never a guest.”
“Whatever,” I mutter.
“I’m serious, man. Don’t mess around and fall for Hannah. She’s not that girl.”
“Noted.”
Hannah
The alarm on my phone starts to play, and I remove the silk sleep mask from my eyes as I swat at the nightstand, trying to locate the source of the racket.
My hand finds the device, and I stop the noise.
Six in the morning.
I groan and toss the phone back onto the stand and cover my head with the pillow. I can’t believe I forgot to turn off that alarm. I was sleeping so well.
Try as I might, I can’t fall back to sleep as my mind starts whirling with the events of the day before. I remove the pillow and look over to see the boarded-up window.
Yep, still there. It wasn’t a bad dream.
Giving up, I throw the covers off and make my way into the bathroom to get dressed.
Following the smell of coffee down the staircase and into the kitchen, I find Alice, Aunt Trixie, and Willa chatting.
“Good morning, Hannah. How did you sleep?” Aunt Trixie asks.
I shuffle toward the coffee maker. “Like a rock. Is that bed enchanted or something?”
Alice hands me a mug, and I pour myself a hot cup and take a seat beside Aunt Trixie at the island.
“It’s great, right? Willa invested in all-new mattresses and luxury bedding last summer. Hal says it’s like we are sleeping on a cloud.”
“It was quite a splurge,” Aunt Trixie adds.
“Well, when you run a business that is based on customers having a relaxing vacation, it’s worth it to put your money into anything that brings extra comfort to the experience,” Willa says.
“Oh, I think it was definitely a good investment. I could have slept all day if I’d just remembered to turn my alarm off,” I tell her.
“Oh no. I’ve done that a time or two. Thankfully, you have many more days to sleep in.”
“Would you like some breakfast?” Alice asks.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t want you to go to any trouble. I’ll just grab a smoothie or something in town,” I reply.
She plants a hand on her hip and frowns at me. “I’m making omelets for us, so it’s no trouble to make another. Besides, a smoothie is no way to start your day. You need real food.”
After the huge meal we had for dinner last night, followed by the gingerbread cookies I scarfed down while watching television in my room, I’m sure my body is fueled up for a couple of days at least.
“I’m more of acoffee and bananatype of breakfast eater,” I say.
“Healthy food. Just like Willa here. I’ll make it a veggie omelet,” Alice says before she grabs a red bell pepper from the bowl on the island and proceeds to chop it.
Willa gives me a side-glance, and I decide to give in. Alice is a warm, large woman. She reminds me of my mother, and I can tell that feeding people brings her joy.
Willa leans her head to mine and whispers, “Calories don’t count during the month of December.”
