“Great, we’ll take it,” Anika answers, whipping out her purse. He slides a form over for her to fill out.
“I’ll take it,” I snap. “We’ll find you somewhere else.”
The man scoffs. “You’ll be lucky. Everywhere is booked up for the annual farmers show.” He reaches for a room key. “The local hotels and B and Bs are full.”
“Great,” I mutter as Anika taps her card against the payment machine.
“Aww, don’t look so glum, Kade. Maybe we could have some fun,” she says with a wink.
EDEN
Mrs. Wainwright sets the stack of bank notes on the desk, tapping them into a neat pile before opening the envelope. The sound feels far too loud in the stillness of the shop.
“You looked as white as a sheet,” she continues, not looking up, “and I just knew it would be your ex.”
I shift in the chair, my shoulders tightening. Despite me hardly giving any details about my past or Kade, she’s somehow managed to piece together my entire life, and she hasn’t stopped probing all afternoon.
“There’s no big story,” I repeat, forcing calm into my voice. “No gossip. We just went our separate ways. Things weren’t working.”
She glances up then, eyes sharp behind her glasses. “So you keep saying. But I saw that look in his eyes.” She pauses deliberately. “He was jealous.”
My stomach twists. I press my lips together, fighting the urge to defend him.
“Kade’s . . . complicated,” I say finally. “But we had a talk, and he’s only sticking around for a day or so.”
“Really?” She slips the money into the envelope and seals it. “He checked in at the B and B for two nights.”
I stiffen at her words. Two nights? There’s not that much to discuss between us.
“How do you know?” I ask, not bothering to keep the exasperation from my voice as I straighten in my seat.
She smiles faintly. “It’s a small place, Eden. Everyone’s talking about the hot biker in town.”
Heat rushes to my face. “It’s farm show weekend,” I argue, my fingers curling into the strap of my bag. “There are plenty of new faces around.”
She hums, clearly unconvinced, and slides the envelope towards me. “Maybe, but not many who look like him.”
I stare at the envelope, my reflection faint in the polished surface of the desk. “How do you convince someone you’re over them, even if you’re not?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
She places a hand over mine. “You definitely don’t lie and tell them you’re dating Pete.”
“It slipped out,” I mutter. “And it was Martha who said Pete. I was happy to let him think I was seeing a nameless, faceless stranger.”
“Either way, you have to be honest.”
I know she’s right. Dishonesty was what started this entire thing. But now, I have two more days of being near him, breathing the same air, and I don’t think my resolve can take that if he thinks I’m single.
The bell above the shop door chimes, and for reasons I can’t explain, my heart jumps straight into my throat.
I look up from the counter. Kade stands there holding a bunch of daisies. Not shop-bought. Not wrapped. Hand-picked, stemsuneven, a bit of dirt still clinging to the ends like he pulled them straight from a verge without thinking twice.
For a second, I can’t breathe.
He shifts his weight, suddenly unsure of himself, and clears his throat. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I manage, my voice quieter than I mean it to be.
He lifts the flowers slightly, almost awkwardly. “These are for you.”
