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Eloise’s mood shifted from sullen when that woman walked in to practically giddy.
She explains to Cam and me that the woman he just picked up is a famous travel writer with a ton of influence. Cam appears to have heard of her but clearly didn’t put the pieces together until Eloise laid them out for him. She could be just what Eloise needs to bring back some life to the inn. If only we could get her to stay for a few days.
Cam is on the phone with a few of our vendors, trying to find a part for her 1972 Norton Commando 750 motorcycle. I’m not sure why he’s working so hard to get her back on the road. The inn has rooms to spare, so she’d have at least a place to stay while we work on the bike.
Eloise paces back and forth in front of the restroom door. I’m about to walk over there and pull her away. I know she’s excited, but we don’t want her scaring this woman away before she has a chance to show her the inn. Maybe this woman, Romy, could write up something about the inn for her website to draw in some business.
“A week is too long, Frank,” Cam says next to me. “I’ve got a stranded motorist here.”
Is he on the phone with Frank? I thought he was out of town with his wife’s family until the new year.
The restroom door opens, and I watch Eloise as she talks with this Romy woman. I won’t lie. My stomach twists with uncertainty as I watch them. I nearly told Eloise how I felt about her before they walked in and interrupted us. Something felt different in the way she was looking at me that made me feel like I could finally tell her. Either way, I’m going to need to man up and admit my feelings out loud or take the chance that the love of my life will walk out the door to a future that doesn’t include me.
“She agreed to stay at the inn,” Eloise whispers excitedly as she walks over to Cam and me. “Since Cam can’t find the part tonight, I offered her a room, and she took it.”
I glance over at my best friend and suddenly realize why he’s on the phone with the one vendor that can’t get us the part we need in the next twenty-four hours.
“That’s great,” I say.
“Can you have Cam drop her off when he’s done with his call?” Elle asks. “I have to go pick up Brayden and Aspen.”
“Of course.”
She turns to leave but stops and spins back to me. “You were trying to tell me something earlier. What was it?”
The words I should just blurt out are lodged in my throat. This isn’t the time or the place. And yet there is a countdown clock ticking away at the window of opportunity for me to tell her how I feel—but not today.
“We can talk later,” I finally say.
Eloise pushes up onto her toes and kisses me on my cheek. It’s a friendly enough gesture, but the moment her lips touch, my body ignites.
“Have a good night,” she says and waves goodbye to Cam before walking out.
I just hope that wasn’t my only chance.
CHAPTER4
Eloise
I hadn’t planned to have a guest staying with us in the days leading up to Christmas, let alone a guest that could change everything for us if she had a good stay. But when Romy agreed to take a room, I knew that I’d have to make the place perfect.
So, when I got home last night after picking up the kids, I checked my pantry and realized it wasn’t stocked with the essentials I needed to make Romy’s experience a memorable one. And since the only market in town was closed, I’d need to go sometime the following day.
Thankfully, Cam was all too eager to come over this morning and take the kids to go pick out a tree at the Bailey Brothers Christmas Tree Farm. They’ve been bugging me all week, but there never seemed to be a good time. Maybe it was just the universe holding out until Romy’s arrival, so she could get a little taste of our small town and the neighboring businesses the locals loved to visit this time of year. And thanks to Aspen, Romy got roped into going with them so that I could get some shopping done in town.
But after six shops and dealing with the crowds of other last-minute shoppers, I was ready to get home and take a long soak in the tub. It’s a rare luxury I get to pamper myself with, and when I saw the new cranberry frost bath salts in the last shop, I couldn’t pass them up.
“Ms. Evans!” I hear a familiar voice call as I check out at Harper’s Market.
There was no need for me to look to know that it was Mr. Cartwright from the Pine Tree Resort. I saw him twenty minutes ago walking out of the hardware store and I ducked behind a round Santa ringing his bell on the sidewalk nearby. The look Jolly old Saint Nick gave me told me I was going to be put on the naughty list if I didn’t hand over some cash for whatever local charity he was ringing his bell for. But apparently, I still couldn’t get away from Mr. Cartwright for long.
“I think that man is talking to you,” the young girl working the register points over my shoulder.
“Yes,” I turn and give him a nod of acknowledgment. “I’m well aware.”
This is getting ridiculous.
It wasn’t even a week ago when he cornered me in front of the coffee shop to ask about my decision. I guess I wasn’t clear enough for him when I said that I’d reach out to him.
