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As the sun sinks, the ocean air cools. Jack is wearing the heavy blue robe, but I have the flimsy, but cute, duster on. Time for me to get inside.
“It’s getting close to my bedtime- I wake early,” I say. “And do my yoga on the beach. I try to live by sun-up/sunrise to use as little electricity as possible.
“You have AC on,” he remarks.
“Nope,” I say. “Like the excellent sound trick, the building was also constructed to make the most of the natural climate and reduce the need for heating and air conditioning. I mean, think about it. Air conditioning wasn’t even a thing when the inn first opened. The French doors let the cool ocean air in during the summer, and the many fireplaces keep the common areas warm in the winter. Each room has a set of French doors and a fireplace as well.
Jack watches me as I explain this aspect of the inn’s history. I am not mistaken; there is affection in his eye. Yes! I am winning him over.
“Do you mind if I stay?” he asks gently. “I know all this is a lot at once.”
He kisses my hair and lingers. I can’t stop myself from responding to the feel of him.
His vibe courses through me and makes me feel complete in a way I didn’t know I was missing.
“Not a problem. There is so much space here,” I start to say, but he cuts me off.
“Well, I was kind of hoping we’d be roomies,” he teases.
“Duh, of course,” I say. “I would love, love, love to fall asleep in your arms.”
I tiptoe up and kiss him gingerly. His phone buzzes. He checks it, raises his brows, and shows it to me.
“Well, she left me alone for a while anyway,” he says.
“And you never did anything to give her the wrong idea,” I say.
“Nope, Adrianne simply isn’t my type to start with. I admit she is attractive, but it’s not my kind of attractive – if that makes sense.”
I was happy to hear that and nodded in agreement.
He continued, “Plus, I am usually too busy for personal time. Maybe that’s why I am finding I can’t get enough of you, me, and this place.”
“You do like it, don’t you?” I ask with triumph in my voice and a massive grin.
“What’s not to like?” he asks.
I grabbed his hand.
“Come,” I say excitedly. “I’ll show you something.”
Jack follows as I sprint back inside, down a set of stairs off the kitchen. All the lights are wired with motion sensors. The stairwell illuminates as we descend.
“Like I said, this was for staff living during hot months,” I say. “But they also used this to keep food and beverages cold.”
We hop off the very last stair and are directly beneath the parlor. Immediately facing us is a wall of nearly floor-to-ceiling picture windows, with an informal sitting area for people to relax and really watch the waves crash. The rest of the room is filled with open shelving for storing canned food and other supplies like tableware, linens, pots and pans, and more.
“Wait for it,” I say gleefully. As a wave rolls in beneath the deck posts and crashes against the glass, I giggle like a schoolgirl.
“Holy moly,” he says.
“That never gets old,” I say.
“And the glass never breaks?” he asks. “No leaks?”
“Uncle John said no, never,” I reply proudly.
“That is breathtaking,” he remarks.
