Page 11 of The Guest Cottage
Picturing this big, quiet man pampering his ailing mother turned Marlow’s heart to marshmallow. The image was both endearing and appealing. “How long has your mother been gone?”
“Two years.” He made an abrupt topic change. “You don’t need to pay for six months.”
“I want to be sure that I can stay that long.”At least.
In fact, at the moment, she had no plans to ever leave. After only a single sunrise, she felt rooted here, as if this was where she’d been meant to land. She wanted to see the seasons change. She wanted to experience the people and the slower pace of life.
She wanted to find herself. Of course, she wouldn’t go into any of that with Cort. “I’m a businesswoman through and through, and I like insurance.”
“What if I already drew up a contract that gives you a month to month opportunity, ensuring you the option to stay but with no obligation on your end?”
“Wow.” He’d surprised her. “You’ve put some thought into this.”
“You told me your plans on the phone, so I thought I should be prepared.” Lifting a hip, he withdrew a folded contract from his back pocket. “I have to run into town for a few hours. I can leave that with you to read, then grab it on my way back if you want.”
“No need.” It was only two pages, and she had plenty of experience with legal documents. “If you can spare two minutes, I’ll read it now.”
“No problem.”
Her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, saw it was Sandra, and ignored the call. Standing with the document in hand, she went to her freezer, took out one of the frozen dinners he’d put there, and glanced at the instructions on the back.
She didn’t know he’d followed until he said, “Allow me, while you read.”
Assuming he was in a hurry, she murmured, “Thank you,” and took her seat again. Everything in the contract was in order. As long as she paid on time, didn’t damage the property in any way, didn’t disturb the peace, and didn’t move in anyone else, she’d have the option to stay. If she did cause damage, she’d lose part or all of her deposit. “Are you certain you only want a deposit and one month’s rent?”
“Yes.”
“A personal check is okay?”
“Sure.”
No one would accuse Cort Easton of being chatty. She was about to make out the check when the scent of food hit her and she forgot what she was doing. “What is that?”
“Fettuccini Alfredo. It’s not bad, but definitely not the quality of homemade.” He glanced at her from his position by the microwave. “Or anything that you’d get from a nice restaurant. Still, it’s edible. I have a few in my freezer, too, for when I don’t feel like cooking. I add salt and pepper. You have to eat it while it’s hot, though. Once it cools, it’s not great.”
“My goodness.” She flattened a hand to her chest and said, tongue in cheek, “I think that’s the most you’ve said to me since I arrived.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I talk when I have something to say.”
“Whereas I just talk. All the time. Sometimes endlessly.” Her phone began buzzing again. One glance confirmed it was Sandra.
“Eat before you answer,” he suggested.
“Yes, sir,” she teased back. She signed the contract, made out the check, and set both on the counter beside him. “My mother-in-law. She’s been needier since my husband died.” Feeling she should explain but trying to keep it brief since he wasn’t exactly gabby, she said, “We spent nearly a year going through a contentious divorce, but before it was finalized, he died in a car accident.”
“Rough.”
That single word didn’t begin to cover the conglomeration of mixed feelings she’d had, the predominant one anger. “My in-laws relied on me to make arrangements. He was their only child and they both took it hard. I’ve tried to be there for them, and I guess somewhere along the way, they thought I’d forgotten about . . . other things.” What a lame way to summarize infidelity, abusive words, angry outbursts, and ridicule. Not only from Dylan but from Sandra and Aston as well.
“You’re here to start over?”
“Yes. I don’t need to work to keep up with the rent, but I’d like to find a job, maybe open a small business . . .”
Cort shook his head. “Not here by Rainbow Lake. You’d have to head back to the city for that.”
Amused, she asked, “No new businesses?”
“Afraid not. I sort of slid into being a handyman by working from home. They’ve accepted me, but if I tried to set up a shop, that’d be trouble.”
