11.

 

Bunny Vanderberg’s BMW pulls up in front of Rose Cottage at 9:00 a.m. precisely. Our official check-in isn’t until the afternoon, but I had a feeling she’d be early; I’ve been up since five, going over every last inch of the house, making sure everything’s perfect.

And reliving the painful humiliation of Ash’s public rejection.

I shake off the hurt and take a deep breath, rushing to throw the door open before Bunny even has a chance to reach for the bell.

“Welcome to Rose Cottage!” I beam brightly.

Bunny stares back, unimpressed. She’s exactly the way I pictured her: an immaculate woman in her sixties, wearing caramel slacks and a Chanel jacket. Her silver-blonde hair is perfectly styled in a sleek bob, and a diamond bracelet twinkles on her wrist as she points behind her. “My bags are in the car,” she says imperiously.

“Of course. Would you like me to check you in first, or get them right away?” I offer.

“Why, now of course.” She stares at me like I’m dumb. “And be careful, please. I don’t want any scuff marks.”

My smile doesn’t slip an inch. “Sure thing.”

I go retrieve her bags from the car and carefully haul them inside. She’s standing in the lobby, sniffing the air. “What’s that smell?” she demands.

I sniff. “That’s the cinnamon rolls,” I explain. “I bake them fresh, every morning. Just the way my grandmother always did.”

I know I’m laying it on thick, but I’m nervous as hell, and Bunny isn’t giving anything away.

I wait for her to say something, and finally she looks over. “Well? Are we going to stand around here all day, or will you show me to my room?”

“Right this way. You’re in the honeysuckle suite,” I tell her cheerfully. “It has the most beautiful ocean views.”

She makes a harumphing noise behind me, following me up the stairs and down the hall. I step inside and set the bags carefully on the floor at the foot of the antique four-poster bed. The linens are crisp and white, and I put the prettiest hand-stitched quilt over the covers. With the seashore paintings and fresh-cut flowers everywhere, the room looks beautiful.

Bunny sneezes.

“I’m allergic to pollen,” she snaps, sneezing again. “My nasal passages are ever so sensitive.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry.” I grab the vases and whisk them outside. Strike Two. I brace myself before heading back in. “Your private bathroom is right here,” I point out, opening the door to the charming, blue-tiled room. “There are spare blankets in the chest, and we also have a library of books downstairs; you’re free to borrow whatever you like.”

I stand, waiting nervously as Bunny slowly tours the room. She runs a finger over the top of the dresser and examines it, then goes to the window.

“You can see, the view can’t be beat!” I know I’m babbling, but this woman is impossible to read. She gazes out at the gorgeous bay, the window framed in honeysuckle and roses like a storybook, then turns back to me with a brisk nod.

“It’ll do.”

Do? I bite my tongue and keep smiling. “Would you like a tour of the rest of the property?” I ask. “We just finished breakfast, but there are plenty of fresh-baked pastries and muffins.”

“No, thank you. I prefer to look around in my own time.”

“Then you just let me know if you need anything.” I smile even wider. “I have maps and guides to the town, and I’m happy to direct you if there’s anything you feel like seeing.”

“That will be fine.” Bunny actually makes a shooing gesture with her hand, dismissing me.

I quickly retreat—carrying the offending flowers downstairs, and far away from her disapproving stare and delicate nasal passages.

I can already tell, this is going to be a long day.

 

I hide out in the kitchen for the rest of the morning, stress-baking. Juliet calls to check on me, and I answer up to my elbows in flour.

“Well, how’s it going?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I whisper, peering out of the window. Bunny is nosing around the garden, writing Lord knows what in a little notebook.

“Why are you whispering? Is she right there?”

“No, but I feel like she can hear me. She has that look about her.”

Juliet laughs. “Good luck. You’ll do great.”

“I hope so. I don’t even want to think about what a bad review from her would do for my big plans for the B&B.” As I watch, Bunny picks her way across to my studio, and peers through the window.

“So don’t. Think about it, I mean,” Juliet insists. “Focus on stuffing her face full of delicious cakes, she’ll soon forget the snooty attitude. Carbs make people happy.”

“And Bunny looks like she hasn’t eaten bread since 1962,” I mutter, turning back to my mixing bowl.

Juliet laughs again. Then she pauses, awkward. “Listen, about last night…”

“What about last night?” I reply brightly.

“You know, with Ash.”

“Oh, that!” I fake a careless laugh. “Tegan was just winding him up. I didn’t take anything from it.”

“Are you sure? Because I know he can be prickly, but I’m sure he didn’t mean to, you know…” Juliet trails off.

Insult me? Reject me? Make it clear he has zero interest in ever kissing me again?

“Of course not,” I insist instead. “I don’t mind, I promise.”

“OK, good.” Juliet seems satisfied. “Let me know when the evil Bunny leaves.”

“Will do.” I hang up.

“Are you quite finished?” Bunny’s imperious voice comes from right behind me.

I yelp in surprise, spinning around. “Hi,” I gasp, frantically trying to think if she’s overheard me say anything. “What’s up?”

“What’s up, is that I’m going in to town.” Bunny looks resigned. “You said there were local attractions…?”

“Sure, let me get you the info.”

I head out to the main lounge, to where I set up the old oak table set with tourist leaflets, flyers and maps. I take a few and pass them to Bunny. “The town is great to explore. You can check out the harbor, and there’s a historic lighthouse along the shore. If you want a great lunch spot, the diner is always a fun choice, or the seafood shack.”

“Shack?” Bunny echoes, curling her lip.

“It’s the real rustic flavor of the shore,” I explain, sounding like a tourist guide myself.

She tucks the leaflets in her handbag. “When is happy hour?”

I stare back blankly.

“Here, at the inn,” she explains. “Most establishments offer wine and cheese, an afternoon refreshment.”

“And we do too!” I lie. “Afternoon tea is served at four. Fresh cake and cookies.”

“You do like your cake.” Bunny looks me up and down, and I realize I’m still covered in flour.

I smile so widely, my cheeks hurt. “It’s all part of the Rose Cottage charm.”

“Very well, I suppose I’ll see you then.” Bunny turns to leave, then pauses. “Oh, I almost forgot. The faucet in my room is dripping. You’ll have it seen to before I return?”

“Absolutely,” I vow.

She sails out. I exhale in a whoosh, sinking back against the desk.

Just think of the business, I remind myself. A good review would go a long way to reassuring my family that I’m not having a minor meltdown out here. I’m already ducking their calls, but I’m not sure how much longer I can hold them off. If I can keep Bunny happy, then I’ll get the good review, and a flood of happy, paying guests will soon follow.

But first, the dripping faucet. I head upstairs to her room and check the bathroom sink. It looks fine to me, but I wait, counting down. When I reach twenty seconds, there’s a tiny, almost-imperceptible drip. I tighten the faucet all the way, but it doesn’t change: after a long silence, another tiny drip comes. Anyone else would ignore it, or not even notice at all, but clearly Bunny has a radar for the slightest imperfections.

OK then.

I go down to the shed and find a wrench sitting on the shelf by the door. Ash must have left it here yesterday after helping out.

Ash.

I sigh, memories flooding back. I can’t figure him out. One minute he’s being helpful and funny, the next, his shutters come down and he’s totally off-limits. Discovering what happened to his parents only makes me more intrigued—it takes such strength and determination to achieve what he has done.

Perhaps if I’d only ever known the ice-cold version, I would be able to just take his word for it that he’s not interested and put him out of my mind. But the Ash I met first was charming and spontaneous, he swept me off my feet.

So which one is the real Ash? Who is he hiding beneath those crisp suits—and which is all an act?

I head back upstairs to fix the faucet. I tighten up the tap with the wrench, but I must have gone too far, because the dripping only gets worse.

Damn.

Bunny definitely won’t be happy now, so I yank even harder.

Something snaps, and then the faucet starts spurting cold water up into the air—and all over me.

No!

I grab a towel and bunch it over the busted faucet. It stops the flow, but the minute I take my hand away, water starts gushing out again.

I panic. Bunny could be back at any moment, and a flooded room is the last thing I need. She’ll probably get right back in that BMW and never come back!

I grab my phone from my pocket and quickly dial Ryland with one hand, pressing tight to the faucet with the other. It rings, and rings…and then goes to voicemail.

Damn.

I try Juliet, but it’s the same: no answer. What do I do now? I don’t know if there’s any plumber in town, and I can’t stand here forever!

I try Tegan’s number. At last, someone picks up. “Hey!” I exclaim in relief. “I’ve got a plumbing emergency, do you know who I can call?”

There’s a pause, then Ash’s voice replies. “Noelle?”

My heart sinks. “Yes, it’s me. Is your sister around?”

“Sorry, she and Ryland went into the city for the day, I guess she left her phone behind.”

“Dammit,” I mutter. The towel in my hand is soaked through, and water is dripping down to the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Ash asks.

“I’ve got a busted faucet, it won’t stop running.”

“I’ll be right over.”

“You don’t have to—”

But the line is already dead. He’s hung up.

I don’t have time to think about it, right now the only thing that matters is containing the disaster. I grab another towel to replace the soaked one, but still the water keeps gushing. By the time I hear someone hurry up the stairs, I’m soaked, and the floor is pooling with water.

“Noelle?” Ash’s voice comes.

“In here!” I call, desperate.

He comes in and stops dead. “I don’t know what happened!” I exclaim. “I was trying to stop a drip, but then something broke, and I can’t make it stop.”

“Let me look,” Ash strides over. I let go of the faucet—and water spurts out, straight into Ash’s face. He ducks back, and I clamp down on it again.

“See? What can we do?” I ask, panicking. “Bunny will be back any minute!”

Ash strips off his shirt, then grabs the wrench and kneels down beside me in the water, wrestling with the pipework at the base of the sink until the water shuts off.

“Can you fix it?” I ask hopefully. “Do you know someone who can?”

Ash suddenly straightens up. Water drips from his hair and his vest is soaked through, clinging to the planes of his broad, muscular chest.

My heart stops.

“I got you all wet,” I whisper, feeling a flush of awareness. He’s standing close in the small bathroom. Too close.

Ash stares back at me, his dark eyes unreadable. Then his gaze drifts lower, and the edges of his lips curl up in a grin.

“You too.”

I glance down. My tank top is soaked through, showing every outline of my lacy bra. I gulp, and quickly cross my arms over my chest.

“I’m sorry,” Ash says suddenly. “About last night.”

I gulp. “It’s fine,” I lie hurriedly, “you don’t have to—”

“No, I do.” Ash cuts me off. A conflicted look crosses his handsome features. “I know I’m apologizing a lot, but didn’t mean what I said, not like that. It’s just, my sister. She has a way of pushing my buttons. She’s been nagging me about dating for years.”

“She cares about you,” I say quietly.

“She doesn’t know how to mind her own business,” Ash replies with a wry grin. “But, I was rude. It came out all wrong.”

My pulse quickens. “So what did you mean?” I ask, almost afraid to hear his answer.

Ash pauses for a long moment. His eyes stay locked on mine, and I swear I can see conflict burning there. Some kind of twisted regret.

“If I was ever going to date someone…”

He stops, then suddenly looks away. “I think I can figure this out,” he says, sounding hurried. “Just give me a minute with the wrench.”

I stand back, so frustrated I could scream. What was he about to say? And why the “if”? I don’t understand why he’s keeping me at arm’s length like this!

Ash works on the pipe join a minute, then finally straightens up. “I think that’s fixed it. Let me turn the water back on.”

I stand braced with another towel, but the faucet flows normally—and stops when he turns the tap.

“Thank you!” I exclaim, overcome with relief. “Oh my God, you just saved my ass. Now, all I have to do is get this mess cleaned up, and hopefully Bunny will never know the difference.”

I throw my arms around him in a hug without thinking. The heat is immediate; the feel of his body, damp and solid.

Ash tenses against me, and then slowly relaxes. For a moment, our bodies are pressed together, so close I can feel his heart beating in his chest.

I look up, into his eyes. Something flares between us, sharp and bright. His hands tighten on my waist, my head tilts up, and—

The sound of a car on gravel filters up through the open window, enough to break through my daze.

“Bunny!” I leap back.

I check outside, and my worst fears are confirmed. She’s getting out of her car, heading for the front door. The bathroom looks like a flood zone, with wet towels and water all over the floor.

“Stall her!” I beg Ash. “Please, she can’t see it like this!”

I throw the driest towel at him. He quickly mops his face and strips off his soaking vest before pulling on his dry shirt again. Any other time, the glimpse of his naked torso would be the only thing I cared about, but there’s too much riding on this magazine review. “Hurry!” I urge him, hearing the door open downstairs.

“What do I say?” Ash protests.

“Anything. Make rich people small talk!” I hiss, shoving him out of the door. I hear him head downstairs, and then his voice comes, ultra-polite.

“You must be Miss Vanderberg. Ash Callahan, a pleasure to meet you.”

I take a breath. Ash can be prickly, but I’ve seen him turn on the charm. It’ll buy me five minutes at least. I quickly mop up the rest of the water, until the bathroom is spotless. Then I shove the wet towels in a laundry hamper, and sneak downstairs.

Ash has maneuvered Bunny into the lounge. Their voices drift out as I sneak past.

“…I was just in Charleston, at the Marlborough.”

“Oh yes. Charming property, but their breakfast leaves something to be desired.”

“You know, I thought just the same thing!”

I dash for the laundry room and ditch the hamper. I shrug off my wet tank and bra, and root around in the clean washing until I find a fresh shirt. I pull back my hair, straighten up, and then stroll back in like nothing’s wrong.

Bunny is sitting on the couch beside Ash, deep in conversation.

“Oh, hello, Ms. Vanderberg.” I feign surprise. “I didn’t realize you were back. Your faucet is all fixed, by the way. No more drips.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” Bunny waves away my concern, gazing at Ash with a besotted expression. “It’s no problem.”

No problem?

My mouth drops open. Ash catches my eye and makes a face as if to say, “zip it.”

“Have you tried the afternoon tea here?” he asks smoothly. “I’m not even a guest, but I have to come.”

“Well, I don’t usually indulge…”

“Oh, come on.” Ash gives her a roguish smile. “With a figure like yours? I’m sure you can eat whatever you like.”

Bunny giggles.

Giggles!

“Well, perhaps just a taste,” she simpers.

Ash gets up, and offers her his hand. “How about we take it in the gardens? And you can tell me more about your fascinating career. I’ve always been so interested in the hospitality trade…”

He guides Bunny out, sending me a wink as they pass.

I can’t believe it. Thanks to him, I might actually stand a chance of getting that good review.

“Noelle?” His voice snaps me back. “Tea?”

“Coming right up!”

 

Ash and Bunny sit in the gardens for a full hour, working their way through an epic afternoon tea. Despite her initial protests, Bunny polishes off a plate of finger sandwiches, two slices of cake, and three of Nana’s blueberry scones. By the end of the day, she’s laughing uproariously along with Ash, regaling the both of us with stories from hotel review hell.

“…And then the plumbing malfunctioned!” she chortles, wiping crumbs from her lips. “Water gushing everywhere. As if a proper establishment can get away with that kind of shoddy service. Can you imagine?”

“No,” I answer faintly. “Not at all.”

“Well,” she says, decisively. “This has been a most surprising afternoon, but I think it’s time for me to retire and take a little rest.”

“So soon?” Ash looks disappointed.

She chuckles knowingly, getting to her feet. “I’ve taken enough of your time. You’re too kind, indulging an old lady like me.”

“Nonsense.” Ash smiles. “This has been fun.”

Bunny looks over to me. “Tea was delicious. Thank you.”

“I…you’re welcome,” I offer faintly, stunned at the praise.

“You’ve done a lovely job here. Very charming,” Bunny adds, before heading inside.

I gape after her, trying to process what just happened. “Does this mean…she likes it?”

“I’d say so.” Ash polishes off the last scone.

I sag back in my seat, suddenly exhausted. “I can’t believe it. After everything that’s happened today…”

“You pulled it off,” Ash grins at me. “Congratulations.”

“You mean, you pulled it off,” I correct him. “If it hadn’t been for you…” I don’t want to even imagine the outcome. A flooded B&B, and a very angry Bunny, no doubt. “I don’t know how I can repay you,” I tell him fervently. “Thank you, really.”

“Consider it my apology,” Ash says wryly. “For being such an iceberg.”

I laugh. “Well, let me send you home with some pastries, at least.”

“Not going to argue with that.”

He helps me clear the dishes, then follows me through to the kitchen. I pull down a Tupperware container and start filling it from the trays on the table.

He looks around and whistles. “How many people are you feeling here? I thought you just had a few guests.”

I make a face. “It turns out, I bake when I’m stressed.”

“Then you should check your blood pressure, because this looks like trouble.” Ash smiles again. “When does Bunny leave?”

“First thing in the morning, unless she decides to stay longer.” Panic grips me, I look at him in fear. “Oh God, what if she decides to stay longer?”

“She won’t,” he reassures me. “She told me she has a lunch appointment in Charlotte tomorrow.”

I sink back against the counter. “Wow, OK, good.”

“You should do something to celebrate.” Ash glances away, almost looking shy. “My family is going out on the water tomorrow. You should come along. If you don’t have any plans,” he adds, awkward.

I blink. Ash is asking me out?

“Um, maybe,” I answer slowly, confused. Maybe he’s just being polite. “I’ll see, there might be stuff to do here, with the guests.”

“Sure. Just call.” Ash gives an abrupt nod. “Or meet us down at the harbor. I think we’re heading out about noon. It should be fun.”

Fun?

I nod faintly, too stunned to do anything but pass him the Tupperware container of leftover scones and watch him leave.

Just when I think I’ve got him figured out, he goes and surprises me again.

What the hell is he thinking?