Jane didn’t do that.
She worked hard. She noticed details. She fed people and then disappeared back into the kitchen as if applause was something meant for other people.
So I toned it down.
I waited before offering help. I asked instead of assuming. I kept my voice lighter than I felt. Not because I was playing a game, but because I could see how easily she startled when given attention.
Caring for her wasn't something I was going to rush.
And I did care for her. The more I learned about Jane Bennet, the more I was on a slippery slope of falling for her.
I glanced up as she crossed the room, carrying a basket of napkins toward the dining room tables. She moved quickly butnot carelessly, her focus sharp, her expression calm in that way that suggested she was juggling far more than she let on.
Everyone relied on her. In the short time I had come to stay at the inn, I could see that clearly.
They asked questions without waiting for answers. They handed her problems without checking if she had space to take them. Jane accepted everything with a nod and a quiet smile, as though that was simply the role she had agreed to play.
It unsettled me.
Not because she couldn't handle it. She clearly could.
But because no one seemed to ask whether she should have to.
Dex slid into the chair across from me, coffee in hand, his gaze following mine before he masked it with a casual sip.
“You’re staring,” he said mildly.
“I’m observing,” I corrected.
He smiled. “You’re staying for a while, aren’t you?”
It wasn't really a question.
“For now,” I agreed. I was rather hoping that with close proximity, Jane might get used to me and let me get to know her better. It was a slow process where more than once I was tamping down my impatience.
Dex raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. He was good like that. He understood my dilemma, having fallen in love with Jane’s sister Lucy.
That had been a fun courtship to watch.
“I heard something about a wedding,” Dex remarked.
I nodded. “A weeklong one.”
He winced. “That explains the tension that Lucy suddenly has.”
It also explained Jane’s.
“She is taking it on,” I said.
Dex followed my gaze again. “Of course she is.”
That bothered me more than it should have.
“I think we should both stay and help out,” I murmured.
“You mean like we did with the renovations?” Dex dryly asked.
“I still want to see what’s beneath the panelling upstairs,” I mentioned. It was as good of an excuse as any to stick around. Besides, I had gotten used to the horribly outdated room with seventies decor that still needed to be renovated where I slept.
