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With a gusty exhale, she said, “No. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. But I’ll have to come back afterward, at least for a couple of weeks.”
I liked that she’d be around longer. Liked it a lot, whether that was wise or not. Her future was in California, without question, and I wanted her to make her screenwriting dreams come true. She couldn’t do that here, obviously. But while she was here, I wanted to spend more time with her, get to know the grown-up version of Ava, spoil her with home-cooked food, and be a better friend than I’d been in the past.
After she finished the last bite, she added the box to the bag of trash and leaned back into the comfortable couch again. Her side was touching mine, and I let myself relax and savor the feel of her, the scent of her, the way she’d appreciated dessert. We sat there in a comfortable silence that I never would’ve thought would be possible again. The room was dimly lit by three warm-toned table lamps on low settings. No one appeared to be stirring anywhere in the inn. The only sound was the faint whir of the air conditioner. I couldn’t remember feeling this content for ages.
“I should get busy,” Ava said quietly, unconvincingly.
“What needs to be done tonight?”
“I was planning to research management systems and companies that sell them so I can contact them tomorrow.”
Her head sank into the cushion, and when I glanced down at her, her eyes were closed.
“You’ve been through a hellish few days,” I said, my voice a gravelly rumble, barely more than a whisper.
She nodded.
“Why don’t you let yourself rest for a few minutes?” I suggested. “You’ll work more efficiently if you do.”
She didn’t respond right away and I wondered if she’d drifted to sleep. It took half a minute, but she finally said, “I need to cover the desk. Anyone could walk in.”
“I’ll keep an ear out. You can relax and start recovering from your day.”
I was betting, if she’d let herself doze off, she’d sleep for a couple hours at least. She needed it, and I wanted to give her that break, so when she didn’t say more, I settled into the cushions too, with Ava by my side, listening to her quiet, even, soothing breaths.
When I opened my eyes again, light was beginning to streak across the sky and reflect in the lake, hinting at an incredible sunrise. Even more breathtaking than that, Ava had shifted so her legs were stretched out to the end of the couch instead of on the ottoman, and her head and one hand rested on my thigh.
I knew if all went well for her, she wouldn’t be in Tennessee for long, but I vowed to myself right then and there I’d be whatever she would allow me to be while she was here. A friend, a support system, a lover if I was really lucky. She wasn’t looking to get involved with me, and if I pushed too hard or went too fast, she’d likely shut me down, so I had to find a way to proceed with caution, but proceed I would. I couldn’t not.
We might not have time on our side, but I was going to make the most of the days we had.
Chapter8
Ava
It was shortly after five p.m. Friday, and I’d like to say the inn was hopping with activity, but that would be a lie. The inn, from what I’d observed over the five days I’d been there, was never hopping, and that was yet another problem I needed to solve.
A couple days ago, that realization would’ve melted me down, but today was different…thanks to Cash.
Last night, on that old, tired sofa in the middle of the very public gathering room, I’d slept hard. I’d had every intention of spending the wee hours doing exactly what I’d told him—researching management systems and software companies. But after filling my stomach with delicious, home-cooked food—and of course, cake—I’d succumbed to exhaustion. The reason that had been okay was Cash’s assurance that he’d listen for anyone who needed me at the desk. Of course, the odds were low when we only had six rooms rented, but that didn’t mean I could ignore the inn for the night. At a minimum, I was somewhat tethered by possible text messages, but Cash’s reassurances had allowed me to relax for a few hours.
Apparently I trusted Cash with one of my most important responsibilities, and that was saying a lot. I hadn’t just dozed; I’d slept better than I had since I’d been in town. Better than I had in probably the past year, since my divorce was finalized. Come to think of it, I didn’t know when I’d last slept for nearly six hours straight.
What a difference six uninterrupted hours of sleep made.
I’d woken up alone, lying fully stretched out on the sofa. I had no memory of shifting my legs from the ottoman or whether Cash had still been there when I did.
The first thing I’d become aware of was the aroma of baked goods wafting to my nose. Sweet, heavenly, tempting breakfast smells had shot me straight up, trying to get my bearings, because my place never, ever smelled like fresh-baked anything.
When my eyes had popped open, I’d been met with the early-morning sunshine over the lake, making the water sparkle and glimmer as pinks and oranges streaked the sky in a breathtaking sunrise. It seemed the universe was trying to tempt me to stay in Tennessee with the most spectacular start to the day, between the view out the window and the scent permeating the air. I was too determined to make my screenwriting dreams come true to succumb to it long-term, but as I’d stood and stretched the kinks out, I’d felt more upbeat and hopeful than I had in a while. Upbeat and hopeful and unable to ignore my rumbling stomach. For once, there had been no way I could forget about my hunger.
Puzzled, I’d gone toward the commercial kitchen, where my aunt used to bake muffins and pastries for guests daily. While a part of my brain had worked out it might be Cash, you know, thechef, creating those beautiful smells, I was completely unprepared for what I saw when I reached the pass-through window from the dining area to the kitchen.
There he was, bending over the open oven, sliding a pan in, wearing his jeans and tee from last night, his hair tousled from sleep, looking rumpled, in charge, and, frankly, damn hot.
That was a glorious thing to wake up to, even better than the to-die-for aroma coming off the rack of cooling muffins.
I’d vowed to worry later about the way he was wearing down my standoffishness and warming me up to him.
