A Brand New Ending (Page 12)

“Worked fine until you broke it,” he grumbled.

“You mean when I threw it against the wall and declared your sick days over? Best decision I ever made.”

“Some caretaker you were.”

They grinned at each other. He reached out and touched her cheek, but this time it wasn’t to test her temperature. “God, I’ve missed your smile.”

Her breath strangled in her chest. She tried to rally her defenses and stiffened, pulling back.

His hand dropped, and he stood back up.

Why did he look so regretful and pained? He had no right. No right to make her feel such things after she’d locked them tightly away and thrown away the key.

She forced herself to meet his gaze and say the words. “Well, thank you for helping me. I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Thank you for letting me.”

She eased to her feet, relieved her legs held well. “I’m sure you have a lot of writing to catch up on, and you probably haven’t slept well. I’ll text Ethan and let him know you’re on your way back and—”

“Ophelia, let me stay.”

She froze. The soft words wrapped around her like a cocoon, squeezing away her resistance.

He stepped in front of her, hands raised in surrender. “I know you don’t want me here, but I’m asking again. I promise you can set the rules, and I’ll respect your privacy.” A touch of misery wound through his voice. “I feel bad about Hei Hei hating me, and Mia seeing me naked, and not being able to work. If I can just get one room, I’ll write my script and stay out of your hair. I swear.”

Dammit.

Ethan’s and Mia’s pleas from last week mingled with Kyle’s in her mind. She closed her eyes, trying to think.

How could she keep saying no? Even though Ethan was at fault for lying, she couldn’t let them go on like this. Plus, he’d taken care of her.

The memory hit hard: him tucking her in, feeding her toast, smoothing her brow, changing her clothes. He’d treated her with a tenderness and care that couldn’t be faked.

God knows, it brought up an array of emotions she didn’t want to explore. Plus, he’d taken care of the inn with respect and proficiency—giving up his own time to write. Three months. One room.

She could structure a daily agenda to make sure she stayed away from him, especially if he was writing all the time. He tended to immerse himself in a project and disappear. If that still held true, the weeks could fly by painlessly. He’d spend time with Ethan, and she had guests to be her buffer in case her body did something stupid like get all melty and hot for some good old-fashioned, ex-lover sex.

Three months. One room. Then he’d be officially out of her life.

She prayed she wasn’t making a huge mistake.

“Fine. You can stay.”

“Thank you.”

His sweet smile made her breath hitch. She’d always loved his smile. With his dimple, burnished hair tumbling over his forehead, and vivid green eyes, he reminded her of a fallen angel. Too bad she knew he was really the devil.

She reminded herself she had to stay strong or he’d find a secret tunnel and slink under the solid wall she’d built around her heart. “But there are rules. If you break them, you’re out of here.”

“Got it. I’m listening.”

“Do you want to go grab your stuff first, before you get settled?”

He shot her a sheepish grin. “Ethan already dropped my luggage off. I’d texted to let him know you were better, and he packed up my shit. He must have figured you were going to let me move in. Guess he was a bit overeager.”

She bit her lip and tried not to be amused. “Fine. Let’s head to the kitchen.”

She marched through the casual dining room, where she cooked for her family, and into the sunny yellow kitchen, hoping she didn’t wobble. The place was outfitted with professional-grade appliances so she could bake and cook for a large crew, and she’d installed large granite countertops, but the cheerful daffodil curtains, oak flooring, and endless knickknacks lining the counters and the top of the stained-pine cabinets gave off a cozy air.

Immediately, she noticed a full pot of fresh coffee, a clean counter, and no dishes lying in the sink. Her heart gave a twerk, but she refused to let it go full Miley Cyrus. She told herself it wasn’t a big deal that he’d cleaned the entire kitchen.

She went to the pine wall hatch, unlocked it, and took out a brass key ring. “I’ll give you the Windsor Room since it has a large desk and work area. There’s a refrigerator and mini microwave for your convenience. Fran’s new Market is great for fresh food, and there’s always pizza or Mexican delivery if you want to eat here.”

“Yeah, I stopped by the Market and talked to Fran. She wanted to come check on you, but I told her to give you some time to get back on your feet. She’s sending over a tray of lasagna tomorrow in case you’re not able to cook. Also said she’d be happy to send me dinner any night if I’m on deadline.”

“Oh. Great.” She tried not to dwell on the way he’d gotten himself situated in town so quickly. “Aubrey regularly comes on Mondays. You’re welcome to use the washer and dryer in the basement any other day.”

“Oh, Aubrey said she’d do my stuff on Mondays.”

Ophelia blinked. “What?”

“Yeah, she was really sweet when we spoke on the phone. She said it wasn’t a problem to do my laundry with the regular stuff. Did you know her mother is a huge fan of my movies?”

She gritted her teeth and hung on to her patience. Another woman he was able to charm immediately—and this one did laundry. “How fortunate for you.”

“Isn’t it?”

He had no idea she was being sarcastic. By this point, she was losing her edge. She handed him the key and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Here are the rules. Number one: You’re out on April first. That’s when my spring season begins, and I’ll need every spare room.”

“Fine.”

“Number two: You get breakfast every morning, but you’re on your own the rest of the day. Don’t come sniffing around expecting me to cook dinner or cater to you on the days I have off. I also don’t want you wandering around at all hours making yourself at home in my kitchen and private rooms. That means no midnight snacks. You stay in your room, in the public dining room, or on the porch.”

“Of course. Would you let me take you out to dinner now and then?”

“No. I also don’t want you mixing socially with any of my guests.”

He cocked his head to study her. “Why? I’ve already met and taken care of a bunch.”

Because she needed to keep her distance, and any contact with her guests might make them seem like a couple. Because deep inside, she still craved him.

But she couldn’t admit to her weakness for him, so she kept her answer short. “’Cause I said so.”

His lips twitched. “Got it. Anything else?”

“Yes.” She regarded him intently. “Rule number three: I need you to keep away from me. No touching. No flirting. No trying to seduce me.”

His eyes flared with heat. The energy in the room tightened. An excruciating awareness pulsed between them. “What if you’d like it?” he asked softly.

“I won’t.”

His voice dropped to a sexy growl. “That was a challenge if I ever heard one. You always liked when I touched you. In fact, you craved it. Used to purr like a kitten when I’d stroke your hair or your back. Remember?”