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“Oh, I don’t think Damian would make a move on her,” I assure him.
“He wouldn’t, but he likes to micromanage everyone,” he explains. “Bethany hates it.”
I lean forward and look around before I whisper, “I think Bethany and André are an item.”
He smiles and rolls his eyes.
“What?”
“Leave them alone, okay?”
“You knew! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” I say, glaring at him.
“What have I told you about gossiping?”
“It’s not gossiping. It’s keeping each other informed about the ongoing events in our precious town.”
He rolls his eyes.
“I caught them a couple of weeks ago,” he confesses. “Why do you think André didn’t protest about this dinner? He wasn’t happy about the combination of dishes. He said they clashed and I’m pretty sure he said fuck you a few times in French. Still, I’ll use this information to make sure you get your favorites.”
He winks at me, and I can’t help but sigh.
Then, when he thinks I’m relaxed enough, he throws out the question, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
His concerned voice and those light blue eyes filled with fear convince me to say at least something to him.
“My brothers persuaded me to go to New York City.”
“Are you taking a vacation during the busiest season?”
His gaze focuses on me, holding it. Then, his eyes widen as he realizes what’s in New York City.
“You said you weren’t interested in that job.” He doesn’t even let me respond before he continues talking, annoyance clear in his tone. “Why would you move? The B&B is here.It’s yours.You love working there. This town is your life, you love it.”
It is mine. A year ago, Dad signed over the deed to me. The profits remain in the family, just like everything we own. However, the Victorian house is mine.
“There’s nothing wrong with trying new things.” I explain at least part of why I’m considering leaving.
Bishop would tell me this is the right time to start the conversation. Confess my feelings, so Landon can let me down gently and I can move on.
I’m not ready to do something like that. Most likely our exchange would look like this:
“Landon, I’m in love with you.”
He’ll choke on his own saliva and spit out a couple of words like “Excuse me?”
He’s going to look like a blindsided deer and would either run away or he’d feign ignorance. I’d clarify, “I have feelings for you.”
With all the patience in the world and the sweetest voice he’d say, “Lee, I care about you too. You’re like a sister, well, more like a brother.”
“But I love you,” I’d insist.
“That’s cute, thank you,” he’d finish and just go away.
Either that or he might just tell me, “Are you serious, Lee? I mean, look at you. We’re just friends, there’s no way I can take you seriously.”
Whichever way, his words will shred my heart into pieces which he’ll toss into a bonfire. I’ll watch as they become ashes that the wind blows away. I’ll never find them, and of course, I’ll never be able to put myself back together.
