The pieces Ephram had laid out earlier fit together too cleanly. I had been the naive access point, giving Gavin the opportunity.
I turned back to the sink and plunged my hands into the water, scrubbing a plate harder than necessary. If I stayed in my head too long, I would start rewriting conversations that were already finished. That way led nowhere useful.
Jane brushed past me with a bowl tucked against her hip. “If anyone asks, that smell is experimental.”
“That doesn’t reassure me,” I replied.
She smiled anyway, that patient, gentle smile that made people trust her almost immediately. Jane had always been like that. She was warm and quiet. The kind of person people confided in without realizing they were doing it.
Now that she was with Braxton, she was happier than ever. It was a soft love between them, both of them cautiously fawning over each other.
I had been silly to think that Gavin was my boyfriend. He had given me compliments, seemed so mature and smart, sent me small inexpensive gifts, and then taken so much before disappearing.
Maybe love wasn’t flashy and lovebombing. Maybe it was quietly choosing each other every day like Jane and Braxton were.
From the other room, Lucy’s voice rose over the sound of tools being put away. “I’m just saying that if you label things, people might stop asking what is in them.”
“That assumes people read labels,” my mother called back.
“I read labels,” Lucy said.
“You read labels selectively,” my mother replied.
I leaned my hip against the counter and let myself breathe for a moment. This was familiar Bennet banter and it made me smile. The inn was unfinished, chaotic, and constantly on the verge of a small disaster, but the noise of my family moving through it grounded me. It reminded me why we were here in the first place.
Without meaning to, my thoughts drifted toward a certain guest.
Ephram was upstairs, temporarily here until his house was fixed.I barely knew him. I had met him less than twenty-four hours ago. And yet his calm professionalism lingered in my thoughts, steadying in a way I had not anticipated.
It also helped that he was cute.
“Lydia and Jane.”
I turned as my father appeared in the kitchen doorway, his expression careful. That look always meant he was about to ask us all for patience.
“Do you have time to come to the sitting room for a moment?” he asked. “Collin has a few things he would like to discuss.”
Every muscle in my body tightened. Whatever was happening, I didn’t see it as being any good.
“We can go right now, as long as I’m back in twenty minutes to get my baking out of the oven,” Jane agreed.
I wiped my hands on a towel then followed them to the sitting room.
Collin stood near the fireplace, hands folded neatly in front of him, looking entirely too comfortable. He had positioned himself as though the space belonged to him, and the longer I looked at him there, the more it irritated me. This was my parents home and dream, not his. He was not in charge here.
Jane took a seat on the sofa, posture attentive. Lucy leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, already braced for nonsense. Mom and Dad stood together, Dad with an arm around her shoulders. Kitty and Meri sat each in an armchair, waiting to hear what was going on. I hovered near the doorway, close enough to listen and far enough away that I could escape if necessary.
“Thank you for indulging me,” Collin said smoothly. “I will be brief.”
No one believed him.
“As you know,” he continued, “I have a vested interest in the success of the Snowdrop Inn.”
Invested interest. The phrasing grated.
“I have been reviewing projections for the Inn including expenses, renovation timelines and long-term sustainability.”
Lucy muttered something under her breath that sounded like “Here we go.”
