I wasn’t sure why I was so intimidated by it. Though the place was huge—it stood three stories tall—it was homely and quaint. A place that seemed…loved.
Forcing my feet to move, I lumbered up the front steps. I wasn’t the best at dealing with people in regular social circumstances. I preferred to be left to myself most of the time, and the city gave that to me. My clients kept me busy and my workday gave me enough human interaction throughout the week.
I wasn’t even sure how a bed-and-breakfast worked. What would be expected of me when I was basically living in someone else’s home for the next couple of months?
I shivered, and it had little to do with the cold night.
As I reached the door, I was unsure whether to knock. Preston hadn’t given me many instructions besides the address of the place. He had promised to email me the information they had sent with his reservation, but it had been hours since I’d left them at the restaurant, and I hadn’t gotten the email.
Gripping the strap of my bag with one hand, I used the other to lift the door knocker up and down three times.
The wood was so thick I wasn’t sure they would hear it, despite the heavy knocker.
But I stood there waiting, trying not to fidget as my nerves ratcheted up with the beats of my heart.
The door swung open moments before I was going to try again. The woman standing in the threshold had a wide, bright smileon her face. She was tall and lean, her dark hair cut short, with streaks of gray that sparkled in the porchlight.
I blinked at her. When I pictured the woman running the small-town bed-and-breakfast, I’d imagined a little old woman with poofy gray hair and an apron. The woman’s eyes were kind and welcoming, but she wasn’t grandmotherly in the slightest.
“Welcome,” she said, her voice soft. “Are you Quinn?”
I nodded.
“My name is Raleigh.” She motioned me inside. “Please, come in. We’ve been excited for you to stay with us. I was just finishing up dinner.”
The warmth hit me the moment I stepped inside. Even in the entryway, the place felt cozy and lived-in. The grand staircase curved upward to my right, and to my left, a living room glowed with firelight. The scent of burning wood and something savory drifted through the air, curling around me like a blanket.
The house was unmistakably Victorian, but with modern touches. There was soft paint instead of wallpaper, updated fixtures, and little hints of personal style that made it feel like a home rather than a museum.
Raleigh led me toward the back of the house, where a wide archway opened into a sprawling kitchen. A massive farmhouse table sat in the center of the room, and copper pots hung from hooks near the stove. The smell of dinner—roasted herbs, fresh bread, and something buttery—made my stomach twist. I hadn’t eaten much at lunch, and it hit me now how hungry I was.
Two men sat at the table. One was older with some silver streaking his blond hair, a steaming mug in his hand as he looked up with a welcoming nod. The other was younger, head buried in an open book that completely hid his face.
“Please, have a seat.” Raleigh drifted toward the stove. “You’re welcome to join us for all meals during your stay. Our table is always open.”
I hesitated, gaze sweeping the kitchen. It felt so…normal. So entirely domestic that it almost made me uncomfortable. I didn’t belong in a house like this, in a world like this.
But my stomach cramped again, reminding me I couldn’t afford to be proud and starving.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, pulling out a chair.
The scrape of the chair legs against the floor drew the younger man’s attention. He looked up from his book, and my blood chilled.
Dr. Graham Ramsey.
He stared back at me. His expression was as composed as ever, but I thought there was a hint of shock there too.
There was no hiding mine. My mouth literally fell open.
Raleigh was saying something, but I didn’t hear a word until she walked closer and laid a hand on Graham’s shoulder.
“This is my son,” Raleigh said with a proud smile.
I tore my gaze from Graham’s.
“Well, he’soneof my sons,” she added with a laugh. “You might meet the others eventually—they’re always in and out. But Graham is the only one joining us for dinner tonight.”
She gestured toward the older man at the table. “And this is my husband, Warner. If you need anything at all, just let one of us know.”
