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The grim expression on Cam’s face tells me that his feeling mirrors my own feelings. Usually, he’s such a glass-half-full type of guy that seeing him acting like this gives me reason enough to be concerned about the situation.
“She told me this morning that the Pine Tree Resort made her an offer for the land, and she thinks we should consider accepting it.”
I heard some rumors over the summer the Pine Tree was looking to expand, but I didn’t think they were thinking about coming to Snow Falls.
I sit up. “You guys can’t sell. That land, the inn, it’s been in your family for generations.”
“I know,” Cam says. “But ever since the Pine Tree opened nearby, visitors to the area aren’t looking to spend time in a quaint family-owned inn. They want to stay in a state-of-the-art resort and spa.”
“Spa?”
Cam pulls a brochure out of his back pocket and hands it over to me. It’s crinkled like it’s been crumpled up, and then someone attempted to flatten it out again.
The photos in the brochure showcase a state-of-the-art facility that caters to a much wider range of guests looking to vacation in the area than what the Snow Falls Family Inn can provide. It’s going to be tricky trying to keep up with a place like this if they move into town.
“Oh, I see,” I say, meeting Cam’s gaze.
I’m usually the guy that people turn to when the mood turns in the room, and some levity is needed, but I’m not feeling very funny at the moment.
“What are you going to do?” I’m trying to play it cool like I’m not hanging on to his answer. “Where would Eloise and the kids go if you guys sold the inn?”
As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t make a move and admit my feelings to Eloise after her idiot husband left. She needed time to move on, focus on her kids, and keep the inn running. But now that there’s a chance that she could leave Snow Falls, I could kick myself for wasting any time.
“There’s still a chance we won’t have to sell if we could just find a way to get more guests,” Cam says, a note of hope in his voice.
“How are you going to do that?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Well, at least you have a plan,” I joke, trying to match his attempt to lighten the mood.
Cam throws the grease rag in his hand at my head, but I catch it with ease. “I’m open to suggestions, jackass.”
I’ll marry her and have the three of them move in with me. But I can’t say that out loud.
Cam has never made any declarations to me or any of our buddies growing up that we had to stay clear of Eloise. But I think the fact that she was his gorgeous older sister and we had zero experience with girls kept any of us from ever attempting to make a move.
In the years since high school, I think that I managed to move out of the my-younger-brother’s-best-friend zone to into her friend zone.
The shop phone rings, drawing Cam’s attention away, so I return to my work under the minivan. The Thompsons’ are going to need this fixed morning if they hope to make it to their family’s home for the holidays. Even if I have to stay late, I’m going to get them back on the road and make their Christmas wish come true this year.
“Hey, Sy?” Cam calls out after hanging up with the customer. “If Elle stops by, can you tell her I’ll be right back in a half hour?”
At the mention of Eloise’s nickname, I start to sit up, forgetting for a moment that I’m still on my back under the minivan. My head cracks on the radiator. It sounds much worse than it actually felt, and I roll out.
“Eloise is coming in?”
Cam chuckles and shakes his head at me. “She’s stopping by with dinner. You better leave me some food when I get back.”
He walks out, the bell above the door chiming behind him. I get back under the minivan rubbing my forehead and feeling a tiny knot where I smacked it a moment ago. The bell chimes again. Cam must have forgotten something.
I push out from under the minivan just in time to see Eloise jump in surprise and scream.
CHAPTER3
Eloise
Cam asked me to stop by with dinner tonight because he said that he and Silas were going to be working late, but I swear I just saw his truck turn down Oak Road a block away from the shop.
