MAGGIE

“For movie night, I’m thinking ghosts,” Emily says, as we walk through the inn. “What say you, Maggie?”

“Please, mom, please?” Mila hops along with us, spinning in circles. “Just once can I stay up with you guys and watch, too?”

“You can watch a scary movie with us when you’re older,” I tell her, clasping a hand around her arm and re-directing her down the hall.

“Ugh! How old do I have to be? I’m almost thirteen.”

“No, you’re not,” I say. “You’ve got a long way to go, sweetie.”

“Your teenage years will be fun,” Emily says over Mila’s head. “Do you hear that attitude? And she’s only ten.”

“I’m not ten,” Mila says with a giggle. “I’m in first grade.”

“What are you then, fifteen?”

Mila pokes Emily on the arm. “I’m six, almost seven.”

We part ways when we reach our apartment doors in the staff section of the inn. As managers, we both live on the premises so we’re available to handle anything that comes up. It’s a little unconventional for raising a child, but it’s worked out perfectly. Mila might not have a father in her life, but she’s got me and Emily.

Emily’s family moved to Harp’s Haven our senior year of high school. After graduating and sliding into college life, we’d run into each other at the bookstore buying weepy romance novels after tough breakups. It’d taken mere minutes to recognize a sister in heartbreak; we’d grabbed a drink together that very evening, and the rest is history.

The night Mila was born, Emily held my hand. When I had no place to go after, she helped me find a job at the inn. When Mila got her first teeth, Emily took the night shift and held Mila for a few hours so I could get some sleep. She’d been there not only for me, but for Mila. The three of us could hardly be called friends; family would be a more appropriate term.

Emily blows a kiss to Mila before unlocking her door. “Sleep tight, Mila-moo. Maggie, I’ll meet you downstairs. I’m getting into some yoga pants, and then I’ll start setting up the movie in the lounge.”

Mila and I work through our bedtime routine, including two chapters of Harry Potter that I read aloud after teeth brushing time.

When I finish the second chapter of The Sorcerer’s Stone, I glance up to find Mila begging for one more.

“Come on, it’s time to sleep,” I tell Mila. “You have school in the morning.”

“School is dumb.”

“This is only your first week. How can it be dumb already?”

“Rebecca moved away. She was the only one who liked me, and now there’s nobody that’s nice to me in class.”

My heart aches as she complains of this yet again. She’s complained nightly since the school year kicked off, and I wish there was a way I could go to school and make friends for her. Not that I’m the Rico Suave of friends by any means, but I hate that my baby is lonely already. There’s plenty of time to feel lonely once we become adults.

“Maybe they’re scared, too,” I offer. “Why don’t you invite some of the girls to sit with you at lunch? Or even the boys?”

She wrinkles her nose at the last option. “I’d rather sit alone than sit with boys.”

“Yeah, me too.” I bring her sweet head against my chest and feel her eyes close as she rests there. There’s a warmth in my heart, and I feel suspiciously close to happy. To whole. To the family I’d wanted us to become.

“You’re really not going to let me watch the movie?”

“Only when you’re old enough to sleep in your own bed afterward,” I tell her. “Your nightmares keep both of us awake.”

“But you like sleeping in my bed.”

“Come on, it’s time for you to get some rest; no more arguing.” I run a hand over the gorgeous brown hair on Mila’s head, smoothing away the baby wisps around the edges of her pink cheeks.

“Sweet dreams,” I whisper as her eyes finally close, even though she’s faking it. “I love you.” I slowly walk out of the room, shutting the door behind me.

Carrying the baby monitor I still keep on hand just in case Mila needs something, I lock the apartment door and make my way to the lounge. Emily and I manage the Lilac Inn, a gorgeous little cottage set in the rolling Maine countryside, wrapped by a small town on all sides.

While Emily and I are the blood, sweat, and tears of this place, Claire Vanderlin is the owner and financier behind it. Claire lives in New York, while Emily and I live on the premises. We both have two-bedroom apartments on the main level, next door to one another.

I had been wary to raise a baby surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the inn, in addition to the long hours I put in working here. But, it has been nothing short of a blessing for all of us.

Mila has grown up with a network of friends as good as family: she’s learned to make a bed from Lelia in housekeeping, and she’s been fed gorgeous, healthy food from Jax, the stunningly handsome chef who brings more business to the inn than any specials or promos we run. Mila learned to read next to Luca, the Italian immigrant who works reception when he feels like it, and she plays with the children who come and go through town.

“Luca,” Emily says, interrupting my train of thoughts as I arrive in the lounge. “How about you earn that payroll and start up the popcorn machine?”

Luca doesn’t bother to look up from the paper he’s reading. The only sign that he’s heard her is the slight raising of his eyebrow.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Emily huffs. “You can’t figure out how to work the thing anyway.” As she stomps away, she turns and mutters over her shoulder. “Why did we hire him again?”

“His pretty face,” I joke. “Customers seem to love it.”

Emily blushes. The customers aren’t the only ones who seem to love Luca’s face, or the way he speaks in a soft, husky voice. I secretly believe Emily’s harbored a crush on the man since the day he stepped foot in this country.

“Right,” she says. “If only he weren’t such an asshole, maybe he’d be able to catch a girlfriend.”

“Let me remind you,” I point out, “that you’re the one who offered him a job before you knew his last name.”

“You should’ve stopped me!” Emily snarls, kicking the popcorn machine when it doesn’t turn on and glaring at me out of the corner of her eye. “I fell for that naive foreigner act. Maybe if Luca actually worked, I wouldn’t have to put in overtime!”

She hollers the last word, and I give her a stare of my own until she tones it down.

“What?” She shrugs at me. “It’s true.”

I can’t agree, however, since my view of Luca is tainted by the fact that he’s an absolute doll around Mila. It’s like he reserves all of his soft-spoken words and tender smiles for the little girl who’s grown up clinging to his leg during hide and seek. And when Luca practices his English during lulls in his shifts, Mila sits with him at reception and learns the words right along with him.

“Shit, stupid piece of popcorn,” Emily continues with her tirade until I lay a hand on her wrist. She glares at me. “This thing is worthless! It’s not popping a single piece of corn.”

I reach over her shoulder into a cupboard and grab a bag of the microwave stuff. “That’s why we bought these.”

“Yeah, but I wanted the movie theater style,” she sulks. “This tastes like cardboard.”

“It’s healthier,” Luca adds, finally deigning us with his words. “The machine is all butter.”

“Butter is a staple with popcorn,” Emily hisses. “You know, for all of us who aren’t skinny-ass Italian models.”

Luca gives the briefest of smiles, lighting his face for the first time all evening. He transforms in an instant from a beautifully serious statue into something brighter, if only for a second. Apparently, it’s one second too long for Emily, who promptly loses her ability to speak.

“Come on, Juliet,” I say, grabbing Emily’s arm and pulling her into the communal lounge. “Movie time. Leave Romeo alone.”

The lounge is filled with squashy couches and oversized chairs, along with a few beanbags and fluffy blankets strewn on any available surface. Pictures taken here at the Lilac Inn—Christmas parties, New Year’s toasts, Halloween costumes—line the walls. They smile fondly down on us, creating a warmth that’s been cultivated over the years.

Emily settles into the couch and, once I’ve grabbed the popcorn and sprinkled our customary dill pickle salt on it, I join her. The hour is spent in a state of perpetual adrenaline rush as the horror movie rolls into high gear.

When Luca stands suddenly behind the reception desk, Emily flies onto my lap and clutches my neck.

“Don’t scare me like that,” Emily growls at him. “You horrible monster.”

Luca merely strolls toward the restrooms while Emily and I return our attention to the television. The climax of the movie approaches and Emily’s hand finds her way onto my arm, squeezing tighter and tighter as the last surviving female makes a move toward the basement.

“Don’t do it,” Emily whispers. “Don’t go down there, Brittany...”

“I can’t watch,” I say, but I don’t make a move to cover my eyes. “How can she think this is a good idea? Everyone who’s gone downstairs ends up dead!”

The music intensifies, the glow from beneath the door in the film brightens. The night grows darker, the female’s arm shakes as it reaches toward the handle. My own palms are slick with sweat, and Emily is cutting off circulation to my bicep. She reaches for the knob, turns it, and—

The front door to the Lilac Inn bursts open. “Hello?”

The screams that follow are sure to wake several of our guests. We’ll definitely have noise complaints in the morning, which will result in us comping several breakfasts, and in turn annoying both Luca and Jax. Jax is kept busy enough in the kitchen with paying customers, let alone those with a free meal ticket.

It’s only once we’re done screaming that I realize the horrible shrieking sounds are coming mostly from me. Emily stopped screaming a few seconds ago, though apparently my heart kept pumping and my blood kept racing, and I kept right on screaming.

“Sorry,” the distinctly male voice says from the doorway. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to check in. I knocked, but I didn’t think anyone heard me.”

By the time Luca rounds the corner with a hand on his heart—probably terrified that a mass murderer had walked through the door and wiped us all out—the situation has stabilized. Though it’s not lost on me that Luca first looks to Emily and, once her safety is ensured, his eyes sweep over to me. Flattering.

In the awkward silence that lands over the four of us, I pull myself onto a shaky pair of legs and make my way to the entrance. As I wobble, the man, whose face is still shadowed by the night, speaks in confusion.

“This is the Lilac Inn, correct?”

“Yes, it is, and I’m Maggie. I run this place along with...” I trail off as I catch sight of Emily staring at Luca. “Emily.”

“Did you say your name was Maggie?” There’s a hint of curiosity to the man’s voice that has me turning around slowly to face him. He raises his eyebrows, a cocky little smirk turning up the sides of his mouth, as he continues. “As in... Margaret Marshall?”

The way the last name is emphasized, along with the use of my seldom-spoken first name, has me on instant high alert. I continue my spin to face him, dragging my eyes away from Emily, to land on another face that is surprisingly familiar.

Too familiar.

“Holy shit,” I mumble.

“What’s wrong?” Emily finally senses there’s more happening than her infatuation with Luca, and joins my side. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Tyler?” I ask.

The name triggers Emily’s memory—she’s never met Tyler personally, but she’s heard his name plenty over shared bottles of wine and tears. She faces him with renewed surprise. “Tyler Daniels?”

Tyler Daniels steps out of the dark entrance and into the warmly lit lobby. Once there, the light hits his face and sends spirals of confusion flooding through my bones. A long time ago, I thought he might be half-god—based mostly on his looks, but also on the things he could do with his tongue.

I’m disappointed to find he’s so much worse now.

Instead of the lanky, almost-handsome boy that’d left town nearly a decade ago, there’s a full-on man standing before me. A gorgeous specimen of broad shoulders, curly dark hair, and that teasing little smirk he’s already flashed one too many times. He’s dressed to the nines in a dark blue suit and brown leather shoes, rounding out his polished look.

Thick, dark lashes brush his cheek as he gives me a pleased grin, teeth brightening up the room once more. Even his face, which I’d first thought was clean-shaven, is covered in a slight stubble that inches the whole businessman look a notch toward sexy. Something that is not helped by his lack of tie and the slightly open shirt he’s wearing, along with the dark wisps of hair peeking from the top of it.

The man is no longer halfway to godlike. He’s the real deal.

Except, I’m pretty sure he’s closer to Hades than he is to Zeus.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, forcing my tone to remain polite. “I never thought we’d see you back in Harp’s Haven.”

“I didn’t have plans to come back,” he says, “but maybe I should have.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Emily looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. I’m not sure why I sound so snappish, but there’s this attitude I can’t seem to shake. Maybe it’s because the last memory of Tyler Daniels that I have is the image of his taillights burning away from the scene of an incredible kiss.

“Do I smell popcorn?” Tyler glances over my shoulder, keeping his voice falsely light. “Movie night at the Lilac Inn?”

“What’s it matter to you?” I ask, waspish. “You probably wouldn’t want to stay for it, anyway.”

“How about I get you checked in,” Emily suggests, hurrying over to the reception desk. “Maggie, you can finish watching people get murdered while I help this nice man out.”

Emily leaves me standing in the lobby studying Tyler Daniels. He watches me back with equal intensity. It appears neither of us are willing to break our staring game. Tyler’s gaze pierces me with gleaming pools of moonstone, the most interesting mix between gray and blue.

I don’t realize I’ve fallen into them until he steps close to me, bringing with him a scent of expensive cologne and fresh fall air. Not until Emily snaps her finger and forces me to return to my senses, do I look at her. Tyler, however, continues to stare.

“Your friend called me a nice man,” he murmurs, his hand reaching out to brush a piece of hair from my face. “Never thought I’d hear that one.”

I’m too mesmerized by his closeness to think of a witty retort. I know I’ll have one later when I’m trying to sleep at three in the morning and replaying this encounter a hundred and one times, wishing I could run to his room, pound on his door, and spew all of my smart and funny comebacks in his face.

In reality, I’ll lay in bed feeling my face burn to bits, wishing I could die of embarrassment.

“Hey, earth to you two,” Emily says from the reception desk. “If you don’t hurry, I’m going to make Luca check you in, and he’s not nearly as friendly as me.”

Tyler and I hold in a battle for one final moment as something flickers through his eyes. At first, I thought it would be dislike, or something similar, but I’m surprised to find it’s not. There’s an almost frustrated, wistful glance that has me wondering what Tyler can possibly be thinking.

I know what I’m remembering, and those thoughts are warming me in all sorts of places I’d prefer remained on lockdown and ice cold. My breath comes out in a weird gasp, and this draws a pleased smile from Tyler’s face.

“It’s really good to see you, Margaret Marshall,” he says in that deep, tender tone I used to love. “I’ve missed you.”