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“It’s not that you’re scared of getting hurt again…”
He was calling her bluff, claiming she was using Ari as an excuse. She was protective of her daughter, but if she found the right man she wouldn’t have to be, and she knew that. It was more about allowing herself to be vulnerable. She just couldn’t, not after what she’d been through at such a young age. “I’m not scared,” she lied. “Do I seem scared to you?”
“Terrified,” he said with a laugh.
Pulling her legs in, she hugged them to her body as she leaned against the headboard. “Wait… You get to ask me all these personal questions, and I have to be totally transparent or you laugh at me? What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do I get to learn a little bit about your personal life?”
“Hell, no,” he said and was still laughing when he hung up.
“What the heck?” she said aloud, looking at her phone. He could weigh in on her divorce and how she felt about dating, but she couldn’t even ask if he’d ever been married? If he had a kid out there somewhere?
She shouldn’t have called him when texting would’ve worked. But she hadn’t intended to let the conversation turn personal. It’d just felt so natural to drift in that direction.
She shook her head as she put her phone on its charger. Her father was right. She was going to have to keep her defenses up high when it came to Kanon Kincaid.
* * *
Kelsey’s hair was a bit disheveled when she showed up at the motor inn the following morning in day-old makeup and clothes, grinning from ear to ear.
“Have fun?” Kanon had slept on her couch so he could hear if someone rang the bell in the attached office, needing to rent a room. But their last guest had checked in at eleven, right after he’d finished the art for Patience, so he’d been able to sleep through the night.
Kelsey’s mouth twitched as if she was trying to stop smiling but couldn’t quite squelch her happiness. “Yeah. It was—” she blew out an excited sigh “—it was really great.”
“Then I’m glad you got to go.”
“Thanks for covering for me.”
From what Kanon had been able to gather, she’d been working nonstop since her mother died, trying to make enough to pay the mortgage on the motel and keep a roof over her head, but she couldn’t stay ahead of the bills. Maybe that was why she wasn’t more upset that Suzanne had given half of it to him. She could sell it for the equity, but even that wouldn’t be a lot, and then what would she do? She desperately needed help, didn’t seem to know where to turn and couldn’t afford to hire anyone. “No problem,” he said.
She lifted the section of counter that would enable her to cross to his side. “Were we busy last night?”
It was nearly noon, so most of their guests had checked out, leaving the parking lot almost empty. “We were at about fifty percent. Claudia’s cleaning the rooms now.”
“How are reservations for tonight?”
“Not looking as good. We only have a few. Hopefully, we’ll get some drive-by traffic.”
“That’s all it’s been lately, so starting with any reservations is hopeful.”
He slid over to make room for her to reach the private section.
“I’m going to grab a shower,” she said. “Then I’ll take over for you.”
“Good because I’m anxious to get out there and fix that dry rot.”
“Won’t dry rot repair require some demolition? Are you sure you want to tear things up before the festival?”
“It won’t be that intensive. I can finish in a day or two. If I get rid of any telltale signs of wear and tear around here, we can charge more per night.”
She turned, her hand on the knob of the apartment door. “How? We’re not filling up as it is.”
“Ten or fifteen dollars isn’t going to cost us any business, especially if we give each guest a chocolate chip cookie with their keys.”
“Who’s going to bake the cookies?” She let go of the door handle long enough to press a hand to her chest. “Me? Because I think we could get in trouble for that. We don’t have a commercial kitchen.”
