“I hate to be a bother….”
They both groan in unison.
“Be a bother? He lives for this.” Nick kisses Nathan on the cheek and heads back toward the lobby.
“Surprise me, then,” I say. “I like sugar.”
“Then you’re going to love my French toast bread pudding.” Nathan points to a steaming casserole that smells like fall. “Back in two shakes. Help yourself.”
I pick up a plate and work through the spread, amazed at how much food there is. I didn’t hear or see a single other guest last night, but I suppose that doesn’t mean I’m the only one here. I pour a glass of orange juice from the carafe and sit down at the long table with a full plate. I’ve barely had a mouthful when a couple who look like newlyweds appear, fill up two plates, and leave, never taking their eyes off each other. Next is a businessman who stuffs a biscuit with bacon and scrambled eggs before tucking it into a napkin and running off. I’m surprised that the dog I saw last night isn’t running around and begging with all the good smells in the air, but maybe they put him away during busy times.
Nathan approaches with a handmade mug and presents it to me with an eager grin. There’s a little swan drawn in the foam.
“It’s too pretty to drink!”
“Hush your mouth and get sugared up. That’s a caramel latte, by the way.”
He goes to straighten the matching dishes on the sideboard, and I ask him, “So are we expecting a full table?”
Nick pokes his head in through the door. “There are two roomsthat haven’t shown up for breakfast yet. And then there are the regulars.”
“Regulars?”
He and Nathan share a knowing grin.
“Not a lot of breakfast choices downtown. Marla’s place always has a wait, so we have plenty of folks who sort of cruise through,” Nick says.
As if on cue, Colonel Gooch flaps into the room in another three-piece plaid suit. “Miss Wolfe,” he says, giving me a warm smile and a nod. He drops a five in a fishbowl I hadn’t noticed and flutters his fingers over the biscuits before plucking one up and stuffing it with bacon and eggs. “Best biscuits in town, but don’t tell Marla I said so or she’ll cut me off.”
“Oh, Colonel, I meant to ask you—” I start.
With an apologetic wave of buttery fingers, he’s back out the door.
“Why’s he in a hurry at eight in the morning?” I ask.
“If his wife catches him eating biscuits, he’ll be in the doghouse.” Nathan rearranges the breakfast dishes. “Can’t imagine being married to someone who scares me to death. And believe me: Geraldine Gooch scares me to death. You got a special someone, Rhea?”
I think back to Billy’s feet on my coffee table. “My high school sweetheart asked me to marry him recently, and I told him no. So no.” My shoulders sink a little. “And he owns the only tow truck in my hometown and likes to throw nails in my driveway when his feelings are hurt. Oh, and his brother is a cop, and he recently gave me a hundred-and-ninety-dollar ticket for pulling over to help a turtle cross the road. Said I was impeding traffic flow.”
“What kind of monster…,” Nathan begins, affronted.
Nick glowers. “You did the right thing. I bet you could contest that in court, though.”
“Billy would show up in his only suit just to propose again with a bigger audience.” I don’t really like the pity in their eyes, and I’ve already accepted the fact that if I go home, I’ll never see Hunter Blakely’s vineyard sunset, so I change the subject. “How’d y’all meet?”
This topic lights them both up like Christmas trees.
“Right in this very building,” Nick says. “Back when I was a blond and this was the Harrison House.”
“We refused to run an inn named after a Confederate general,” Nathan snaps.
“So we changed the name, first thing.” Nick reaches over to give Nathan’s hand a squeeze. “I was in town to visit my dad, who loves to hike.”
“And I was here for a bachelor party. Extremely hungover. But I dragged my sorry carcass down to breakfast—”
“It was barely a continental!” Nick wails. “Prepackaged Danishes and soggy fruit salad.”
“It’s true. And the sweet little old lady who ran the inn was getting forgetful with her sell-by dates. Anyway, we met over this breakfast table. Even half dead, I was enraptured.”
