“Ollie, what do you say we go water your garden?” Mel took his niece’s hand, and Beckett’s heart pinched. He couldn’t wait until his family was all together. In a way, he’d made at least one decision. He couldn’t leave them behind. Not even for a stake of the company. He still wasn’t sure if he’d open a bike shop, but he wouldn’t be opening a new store for Brian.
“There’s nothing in it yet,” Ollie said.
“Nope, but you want to get the soil ready,” Richard said.
“If that’s okay with your mom?” Mel looked at Jill, who nodded.
In the dining room, which seemed to serve as their meeting space more often than not, they all sat around the long, rustic wood table. His mother was going to love it. She was going to refinish it after watching a dozen YouTube videos, and then she would love it.
Jill spoke first. “Our Instagram account for the lodge has over onethousand new followers. Someone reposted the photo on Twitter and TikTok. We don’t have TikTok, but I’ve seen a few videos.” Jill looked at Beckett like she couldn’t quite believe what was happening because of a photo. That made two of them. “Our online booking site crashed because of traffic.”
Beckett grinned. No time like the present to move forward.
Presley tapped her fingers on the table. She didn’t meet Beckett’s gaze but clearly spoke to him. “I really didn’t mean to make you an Instagram meme or household name.”
“Don’t even think of apologizing, Presley,” Grayson said. “We’ve had a few requests from other accounts to advertise their products. Outdoor apparel companies in the area, a shoe company with a new hiking boot, and a beverage company. They’re not only willing to pay but willing to provide free merchandise and promotion.”
Beckett’s head swung to his brother. “What?”
Grayson nodded. “Our DMs on Instagram have exploded. I’ve been sorting through them. And those women talked about you the entire trip over. One of them is a lifestyle blogger? I don’t even know what that means, but I think it’s good.”
Beckett ran a hand through his hair, almost at the same time as his brother. Though he suspected Grayson’s action was one of relief. Beckett’s was not. He wanted to get them on the map in an entirely different way. One that had nothing to do with his abs on a social media app.
“Not to make things worse, but I really think it’s in your best interest to capitalize on your momentum. If you do Instagram live, maybe even a giveaway of some sort, you could keep your numbers up,” Presley said, lowering her gaze.
He reached for her hand on her lap, closed his around it. “As long as it’s notmegoing live, that’s a good idea. Like Shane’s idea to post you two making French toast. We could make it a signature dish.” Even if they catered, they could still have some specialties. And he knew, no matter how many days she was here, he’d never be able to eat the breakfast food without thinking of her again.
Jill grinned. “That would be fun. Ollie and I could do it. Maybea live walk-through, what we offer, that sort of thing.” She looked at Presley. “What do you think?”
“Now is the time to act. I know that might mean investing more money in repairs than you have up front, but it’ll have a big payout if you can book up for the entire summer. I have a notebook full of ideas I’ve been jotting down.” Presley ducked her gaze again. “It’s just something I do when I’m trying to occupy my thoughts. I didn’t sleep well last night and I made a list of things that would be easy to do but make a big impact for you guys. If it’s not overstepping, I could share it?”
Beckett squeezed her hand. Not overstepping. Anotherstepin the right direction, even though it was one more reason he might regret getting close. She was going to leave an empty space in each of their hearts.
He glanced at Presley, whose hair hung loose around her shoulders. Why had he thought he could stay away from her when he only had limited time? A man didn’tnotfish at all just because he only had a short stretch of time to do it. Beckett’s life was all about small pockets, little moments in between the noise to fully embrace what made him happy. He hadn’t found anything that made him as happy as this woman. He wasn’t sure where he’d land in any area of his life, but he knew he’d regret not taking a chance, even a brief one, with Presley. He thought about the look in Mr. Dayton’s eyes when he spoke about his wife. Beckett wanted a lot of things. He did not, however, want a lot of regret.
Nineteen
Mr. Dayton lingered, listening like a wise sage, nodding now and again. Beckett figured there was no harm in sharing the connection since the man still sat comfortably and made no move to leave.
“You’ll never guess whose family owned this place way back in the day,” Beckett said, leaning against the chair, his shoulders relaxing.
Grayson, Jill, and Presley looked his way, waiting for an answer without guessing.
Mr. Dayton chuckled. “That would be me.” He lifted one hand like he was in school, then lowered it.
“No way,” Jill said, delight lifting her features.
“How long ago was this? Has it changed a lot?” Gray folded his arms on the table and angled his body toward the older man. One of the great things about his brother was that he was willing to put in the work, but he didn’t let pride get in the way of success. Beckett needed to tell them about Mrs. Angelo, the deli, and her nephew.And the damn bikes.
“Oh my. I was just a boy. Over fifty years ago. Come on. I’ll show you something.”
They followed him out of the dining room. Ollie left Mel to the watering, joining them as they went down the lodge steps, taking the older man’s hand. Beckett’s parents’ most recent trip was the longest one they’d taken. They’d worked their entire lives, sometimes more than one job each, and now, they were finally getting the retirement they deserved. But it would be nice when they got back. Ollie missed her grandparents, and the siblings missed them as well.
They walked to cabin three, nestled in the trees with a great view of the water. Mr. Dayton turned, gripping Ollie’s hand. “Got a key?”
Jill rushed up the steps, used her master key, then stepped into the house, holding the door open. Everyone else followed. It was musty. This one had no furniture. Grayson and Beckett thought it might have been used as a staff quarters, because there’d been a bunch of sleeping bags and beer cans when they first took over. What was left behind didn’t seem like a setup for paying guests. Looked more like a frat flophouse.
“Stuffy in here,” Mr. Dayton said, looking around the room with a hint of a smile on his face.
