I sent a text message to the guests, inviting them downstairs for an impromptu meal, and it wasn’t long before their doors opened, and the small dining room filled. I opened extra bottles of the wine I kept on hand for my evening wine and cheese hour, and using tidbits I learned about my guests, found commonalities and introduced them to the other guests.
Soon, the downstairs common rooms were occupied by chattering new friends. I kept the trays full, glad I had doubled my recipes for the soups. The smiles of the guests as they helped themselves was worth the extra trouble, and all of them promised to leave a positive review on our website.
The hours rolled by, and the guests returned to their rooms. I had done my best to keep up with the dishes and trash, but there was still a lot of cleaning up to be done so the kitchen would be ready to make breakfast in the morning.
When I heard the bell signal that someone had come in the front door, I hollered loudly that I’d be right there. I quickly rinsed off the pan in my hands and hurried through the dining room. I was surprised to look up to see a tall man tug off his hat and run a hand through his messy, dark hair and over his cold-reddened cheeks.
It wasn’t the woman I was expecting. I assumed he got caught in the storm and was looking for a place to stay. That was going to cause a problem since I didn’t have any extra rooms, but I couldn’t send him back out in that storm.
I waited while he finished stomping the snow from his shoes, grateful he didn’t track the extra moisture across the floors I’d recently cleaned.
“Looks like the storm really picked up out there.” The smile I had ready to greet him faded as he looked up.
My hand shook. Dark green eyes crowned by a streak of gold stared at me; eyes that once had been a part of my past but also ones I saw every day. “Zach?”
The hand reaching for his back pocket froze. Those beautiful eyes focused on me. I knew it all clicked for him when they widened briefly before he schooled his features, his eyes looking annoyingly blank, which only heightened my nerves. “Emalee. What a surprise. What are you doing here?”
I swallowed hard. This was my nightmare come true. Things like this only happened in the movies or in the books I liked to read. “I manage this place. What…” I cleared my throat. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes continued to roam over my face. I didn’t think he was going to answer when he finally said, “I have a reservation.”
What? That was impossible.My hands wrung each other until I willed them into a grip so tight, they turned white. “There must be a mistake. We’re booked for the night. I’m just waiting for my last guest to arrive. I thought you were her. She should be here any minute.”
I felt like an idiot stammering out sentences like an automated machine, but my brain was firing in so many directions, trying to process the overload of surprising information.
A flash of annoyance crossed his face. “Someone else called for the reservation, and this is the address she gave me. Believe me, if I’d known, I’d never…”
I blanched at his caustic tone, grateful he hadn’t finished the sentence. He’d what? Never come if he’d known I was here? Rushed to me sooner? I’d long since given up on ever seeing Zach again. Weeks after I left the hotel, where we’d last been together, in such a hurry, I had tried to find him, only to discover Zach had also pulled a disappearing trick. Over the years, I thought about searching for him again to tell him everything that had happened, but I couldn’t risk it.
I hurried behind the counter, glad to have a barrier between the two of us. I opened up my laptop, cursing myself for not double-checking the reservation Shannon had made. Sure enough, there was the name “Zach Abbot,” scheduled to stay a week. The soup and sandwich, which had tasted warm and comforting earlier, now sat like a rock in my stomach. I swayed slightly and grabbed the edge of my desk for support.
“Are you okay?” He sounded more annoyed than concerned.
No!“Yes, thanks. Just surprised by the turn of events.”
He blew out a long breath and ran his fingers through his hair again, the dampness from the snow causing it to wave on the ends. I hated that my fingers wanted to join his, to play with the strands that were a bit longer than I remembered. The style suited him better, softening the once clean-cut, preppy appearance to better hint at the boyishly fun charm he’d used to win me over. I wouldn’t be so easily fooled this time, however. Not that he seemed inclined to win me over again.
Those eyes that reminded me of my cousin Chase’s Christmas tree farm pierced through me. “Yeah, I could say the same. But look, it was a long, hellish drive. Maybe I could finish checking in, and we can talk another time.”
“Oh, yes. Of course!” With shaking fingers, I swiped his credit card and handed him his key card. “You’re in the blue room, up these stairs, first door on the left. Breakfast is available between seven-thirty and nine-thirty each morning.” I didn’t point out my number in the brochure he could call in case of emergency.
Grabbing his suitcase, he stomped up the steps, not even pausing to say thank you.
“Welcome to Sterling Mill,” I called after him, not bothering to hide my sarcasm.
More like welcome to my fresh hell.
CHAPTER4
Zach
Upstairs, I dropped my bag to the floor and sank onto the bed. Between the hazardous drive and the unexpected reunion with Emalee, I was drained. What were the odds that after almost seven years, I’d ended up in the same small town, at the same bed-and-breakfast she was in? Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket tomorrow.
For years, the thought of her name infuriated me. How could she have just left me, especially after the evening we’d shared? Why had she ghosted me? Had she been here the entire time? There were dozens of questions I was dying to ask her. I wasn’t so naïve as to believe she’d take one look at me and cry out an apology as well as an explanation. But nor had I expected once she got over her surprise for her to appear scared before her eyes flashed with fire, and she settled into a cold politeness.Iwas the oneshe’dwronged, not the other way around.
I wanted to hate her. No, that wasn’t right; that took too much energy. I wanted to not feel anything, to not feel the unexplainable connection when I saw her again, just like the first time. I wanted to sleep without memories of her in my dreams. I wanted to not see her as “my sunshine” but rather as the storm clouds which had become my life after she disrupted it.
I wanted to not want her anymore.
