Ari Patel folded the papers I’d handed him and slid them into his pocket. “There were a couple of times we thought it would be nice to have room service.”

  Janie giggled again, and it was quite clear why they hadn’t wanted to leave their room.

  “I’m in the food service industry,” Ari continued. “I couldn’t help noticing that the kitchen here would be more than adequate for some light food service, beyond breakfast pastries. It seems a waste of space as it is.”

  I tilted my head, considering what he said, unable to argue with any of it. Also unable to wrap my head around how I could manage adding food service to my list, but it was worth thinking about. “That’s a great suggestion. Something for me to consider. Thank you.”

  “I love the loungers out by the lake,” Janie said. “They’re good for getting some sun—or moonlight. It’d be even better if they had some thick cushions.” Again with the giggle and the weighted look at her husband, and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know exactly what they’d done out on the loungers under the moon.

  “Cushions for the loungers. Fabulous idea.” I jotted both it and the room service idea on a pad of Post-its.

  “Our honeymoon has been amazing,” Janie continued, “so thank you for your beautiful accommodations. We’re thinking of making this an annual tradition.”

  “We’d love to have you,” I said, meaning it. “Let us know when you have dates for next year. We’ll save your room for you anytime.”

  We finished up our business, they went on their way, and I sat down hard on Aunt Phyl’s stool. I was exhausted and restless at once. The hot male mistake in my cottage was more on my mind than the encouraging messages from my agent.

  That was messed up.

  I had three more parties due to check out this morning, but I couldn’t stand to sit still and definitely didn’t want to be here if Cash came looking for me. I needed time to sort out my brain before I faced him again. I hopped off the stool and left the lobby.

  I touched base with Gretchen, who said they were on schedule with their cleaning duties, then took a tape measure from Halstead’s maintenance HQ and headed out to the loungers to see what size cushions we’d need. I could handle cushions. They sounded easy and fast, something that could be checked off a list yet today with an online order. Maybe checking something off my list would level out my head.

  With the lounger dimensions noted on my phone, I straightened and breathed for a moment. It felt like I hadn’t done that yet today. The sun was beaming down, making it a steamy morning. The lake sparkled, and there were several boats out in the center, far from this shore, and lots of activity down toward the marina and the private beach to the west. I’d never needed to soak in my surroundings more than I did right now. I walked toward the inn’s docks a short distance from the lounge area.

  I went to a section of dock shaded by a towering tree along the shore, knowing the surface in other places would scorch my butt if I sat down. I lowered myself to the shaded worn wood, noting the rough edges, yet I couldn’t resist hanging my legs over the side and dipping my feet into the water.

  The docks had long needed to be replaced, and it would be a costly but necessary project too. Years ago, we allowed guests to bring their boat and dock it here, but my aunt had been forced to stop that a few years back because of the deteriorating docks.

  That would have to be a project for phase two. I didn’t know what phase two meant, other than not right now, because the roof and the painting and the countless other maintenance projects had to come first. Maybe we could replace the docks in time for the spring season next year. It was something to discuss with the manager I needed to find, once I found them, trained them, and gave them a chance to get acclimated.

  I closed my eyes, attempting to close out worries about the inn and about Cash, willing myself to relax. Just for five minutes.

  Opening my eyes, I breathed in the humid air, appreciating the lake smell of it like I’d barely had a chance to since I’d arrived on Monday.

  Our area of the lake was peaceful. It always had been. To my left was a stretch of undeveloped shoreline, some of which the inn owned—I owned, come to think of it. It had been a part of my aunt’s original purchase, and she’d kept it wild and untouched. Beyond that, to the east, the shore was lined by modest homes built in the 1960s. To my right, or west, was town, including Henry’s Restaurant and McNamara Marina, then a residential area. At night, beyond that, you could see the lights of the new Marks Resort, but I hadn’t even had a chance to drive by it yet.

  I was working hard to avoid thinking about Cash and this morning and the implications of all of it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t two minutes later that heavy footsteps sounded on the dock behind me, then veered in my direction at the T intersection. The steps were confident and intentional, and I knew without looking they belonged to Cash.

  Chapter 16

  Ava

  “Is this spot taken?” Cash asked when his steps halted a foot away from me.

  Damn that man. The horrible line said in his sexy voice made me smile in spite of myself.

  “Hi.” When I looked up at him, I saw he was dressed in his running clothes again, but they were clean and he looked put together, giving no hint of what had happened earlier.

  He sat next to me and held out a small bakery bag from Sugar. I took it, opened it, and saw two donuts, one with chocolate chips and white frosting on top, my favorite, and a plain glazed, which had been his usual order when we were together. I’d always teased him for having dull donut taste.

  “Even now, with all your chef credentials, you choose glazed?” I asked.

  “The beauty is in the simplicity and the textures. The glaze is just thick enough, the center of the donut just soft enough…”

  I took out my sugary sphere of perfection. “Frosting and chocolate chips add even more textural dimension,” I said, handing him the bag with his glazed.

  “On this, we’ll never agree.”

  “Agree.” I took my first bite, and lord, could they still do donuts right at Sugar. I moaned my appreciation, and when I finished savoring the bite, I said, “Thank you. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

  “You’re welcome. You’ve burned a few hundred calories already this morning.” He rubbed his hand over my thigh and squeezed ever so lightly, just a quick touch, but it took me back to my bedroom, when my body had been bared to him and his hands had been all over it.

  “True that.” I stuffed another heavenly bite in my mouth.

  “I put a dozen in the lobby on the counter with a sign that says, Help yourself. In case you still have a few people here.”

  “I still have a few people here.” I glanced at my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed a message, fighting the way his thoughtfulness tugged at me. “Thank you, Cash.”

  “It killed me a little to admit defeat, but by the time I would’ve cleaned up the mess, remixed a new batch, and baked them, it would’ve been more of a check-in treat for this afternoon. Which isn’t a bad idea, come to think of it.”

  My heart turned over at his admission. I didn’t know this specific chef version of Cash very well, but I knew the man had pride, always had, just like any man, and he obviously was seeing those little muffins as a personal affront. And still, he’d humbled himself and gone out of his way for me.

  Damn the man again, getting under my skin.

  “I’ll add check-in treats to the list of suggestions. As long as there’s someone else to bake them,” I said. I set the last couple bites of donut on my leg and typed check-in treats on the list on my phone. “Ari Patel mentioned room service and making better use of the kitchen space, and his wife suggested thick lounger cushions. Which is why I’m out here.” I gestured over my shoulder to the chairs on shore as I stuck the last of my donut in my mouth.

  “I agree about the kitchen. A lot of places would kill to have a dedicated commercial kitchen space. Did Phyllis ever do anything besides bake pastries?”

  I shook my head. “Most of the equipment is old but barely used.”

  “We could come up with some ideas. Maybe start small, with breakfast and lunch. Something that could generate extra revenue and add value for your guests.”

  That was hard to argue with, but the thought of becoming further entwined with Cash made me uneasy. I simply said, “Thanks. I appreciate the offer.”

  He caught my hand, twined our fingers together. I met his gaze and knew instantly I shouldn’t have. His look was intense, searching. “I meant it, Ava.”

  I looked away, managed to not pull my hand from his, and nodded.

  “Hey,” he said. “I’m sensing a hesitancy in you. Like you’re shutting me out.” Still holding my hand, he used his other to brush my cheek with his knuckle.

  I wanted to lean into it, and that was exactly the problem.

  “You better not be having regrets,” he said. I could hear that he was smiling, lightening his words.

  “Not regrets.” I’d be pulling out the memory of this morning later, when I was alone and missed him. When it was safe to spend time with it. “Cash, what are we doing?”

  “Same thing we talked about last night.”

  “Today in the cottage didn’t feel like the same thing.”

  He laughed. “I hope it was even better.” In a flash, he went serious, self-conscious. “Was it not okay for you?”

  That made me laugh. “It was okay.”

  He turned more fully toward me. “Just okay?”

  “Are you fishing for compliments? It was a hundred times better than okay, and you know it. That’s part of the problem.” I unlaced my fingers from his, bent over, dipped my hand in the refreshing water because I needed to cool down. “I know I started that. I’m just feeling…doubts. Like, what’s the point of getting closer if we have no future?”

  I’d thought I could handle “just sex.” I’d literally dreamed of Cash all night long after those kisses last night. But then this morning had been intense. Physically, yes. Of course. That was the good part. But the stuff in my mind…

  “My brain is confusing the past with the present,” I said. “Taking me back to when I thought we weren’t temporary.”

  He didn’t reply, and when I dared a glance at him, he was staring straight ahead, toward a boat with a pretty blue and green sail in the distance.

  “You don’t get that?” I pressed.

  “I get it. Being with you is nothing like being with someone I barely know. You’re not a one-night stand, Ava. There’s a middle ground between a one-night fling and forever though.”

  “Have you had a lot of one-night stands?” I couldn’t stop the question from coming out, even though I had a good guess at the answer and really didn’t want to hear it.

  “Had enough of them,” he said. “Plus the supposed forever.”

  “How about middle ground? Between a night and forever?”

  Cash shook his head. “I’ve proven neither extreme works for me, though, so maybe the middle ground is worth a try.”

  “What happened with your ex-wife?” I asked. I was dying to know, but I hated to admit it.

  Cash shrugged. “She wanted more than I could give her. Never wanted to be stuck in a small town. Never wanted to be the wife of a chef who works late shifts.”

  I let that sink in. Waited to see if he’d say more, but he didn’t. I could feel it coming off him that he considered his marriage a personal failure, and of course, I didn’t really know what had gone on inside of it, but from what he’d just said? His ex sounded like a self-centered, narrow-minded woman who’d never really been in it for forever in the first place.

  Dragonfly Lake wouldn’t be such a bad place to live. Sure, I’d had all kinds of hesitancy coming back to the place that held so many hard memories and such sadness for me, but the longer I stayed here, the more I was reminded of the good parts—the happy memories with my mom and aunt, the blissful times when Cash and I had been in love. The scenery was unbeatable; looking out over the lake never got old.

  And being Cash’s wife? If her biggest complaint was that he was scheduled to work late…what, really, had she expected when she’d said I do?

  If I were Cash Henry’s wife, I’d be happy to welcome him home whenever he got done with the work he was so passionate about. Probably naked.

  I sucked in a deep breath and sat up straighter. I was not Cash’s wife. I wasn’t going to be Cash’s wife. I didn’t even want to be Cash’s wife. I wanted to live my own life, be my own boss, pursue my own dreams for once, just like I’d been planning to do after leaving Wes. Just thinking about the possibility of writing for Stream got my blood pumping.

  And so did the idea of sleeping with Cash again. And watching him bake—even if he did it fully clothed. And mapping out a plan for the inn’s kitchen with him. I liked spending time with him, but that didn’t mean I needed to give up on my goals. I could have both—some scorching-hot times with Cash while I was here and a successful career in television writing if I landed the head writer job. And if I didn’t, I’d keep trying, keep knocking on that door until I unlocked it. In California.

  I didn’t have to choose. I could have him for now and everything else I dreamed of when I got back to LA.

  “What about you?” he asked. “What happened with your ex?”

  I blew out my breath, knowing I could trust Cash to be sensitive but still hating to talk about this. “He couldn’t handle the forsaking all others bit.”

  “What a shithead.”

  “That’s one of many things I’ve called him. I take some blame for being stupid too, though.”

  A caustic laugh came out of Cash. “You’re not stupid.”

  “Let’s see…I married him. I put my career on hold for years to support his—”

  “No.”

  I nodded. “We did so much entertaining, to build his career, butter up clients, make connections…” I tried not to let regret seep into my tone, but I had some serious regret. “It sounds like a reality show, but I put so much time and effort into hosting and planning and doing whatever he needed for his career, promising myself I’d get better at sneaking in writing time when he was more established…”

  “Is the fucker established yet?” Cash asked.

  “He’s made partner, but it turns out it’s never enough. There are always more clients to woo, more connections to nurture, more nauseating bullshit to spread.” I laughed. “I may have some lingering resentment.”

  “Justified. And your dad is buddies with this guy?”

  “Sort of. They’re a lot alike,” I admitted. “That was hard for me to take when I figured it out. I’d always pinned so much hope on my dad.”

  “I remember.”

  “When my mom died and I moved to LA for school, he helped me financially, so there’s that. And I know I wouldn’t have gotten the settlement I did without my dad being a senior partner in Wes’s firm. Wes has always cared more about my dad than about me. It just took me a long time to see that.”

  Cash put his arm around me, resting his palm on my hip opposite him. “I’m sorry you had to deal with such a selfish prick.”

  “Me too but I’m out of that situation now. I’m finally giving my career one hundred percent. Or I was until this.” I gestured to the inn and swallowed down the sadness of losing my aunt.

  “You’ll get back to it soon,” he said. “In the meantime, I’d like to spend a lot more time with you, a good chunk of it naked if I’m honest, but only if that’s what you want, Ava.”

  “It’s what I want,” I said, my hesitation gone. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I do want that. No strings. No future, but we know that and agree on that.”

  “Of course. You’ll be writing TV episodes in LA. I’ll be here cooking to my heart’s content. Maybe you’ll even be able to catch me and Henry’s on a cable TV show.”

  Grinning, I said, “I wouldn’t miss it. And here’s a hint: if you audition for it in a towel, you’ll be a shoo-in.”

  He laughed, the low, gravelly sound sending a flash of desire through me like only Cash could. He leaned toward me and kissed me, and I let him, not worrying about who might see, what people might think, because finally I was straight in my head about what I wanted.

  Cash ended the kiss, glanced at the time on his phone, and said, “I need to get to work and you probably need to get back. Any chance you can get away tonight?”

  “Deshon’s coming in at ten. What do you have in mind?”

  “Come to my apartment when you can. I’ll feed you. Dinner and dessert.”

  I heard the double entendre in his words, and I played dumb. “Hummingbird cake?”

  Another laugh rumbled from his chest as he leaned to me and pressed a too-short kiss to my lips. “Hummingbird cake and me. Come when you can.”

  Again with the double meaning. I laughed too and said, “Best offer I’ve had yet today.”

  He hopped up and took my hand to help me. We walked back to the inn together, then he went on his way, starting down the lane in a jog toward his apartment.

  Not gonna lie, I watched him go until I couldn’t see him anymore, appreciating his strong body, looking forward to seeing it naked again. When I headed back inside, I spotted the box of delectable donuts and his handwritten sign on the front desk, and it made me smile wider. His heart was as irresistible as his body.

  There was that damn warning bell in my head regarding my heart being in danger no matter what we agreed to, but while I could admit it might be valid, I ignored it. Because trepidation or not, it turned out I couldn’t resist spending more time with Cash. With or without clothes. Come what may.

  Chapter 17

  Ava

  By Tuesday evening, I’d accomplished a lot, and yet there was still so much to figure out, put in place, make decisions about before I could go back to my life in LA.

  I’d seen Knox head out the deck doors a few minutes ago, so as soon as Magnolia arrived for her desk shift, I went out after him. He was sitting on one of the loungers down by the shore.