“And …?” Evie asked, trying to keep up.
“And she’s coming here!” Jules announced. “I’ve been bombarding her office for weeks now, trying to get on her schedule. I thought maybe in the fall, if we were lucky, or Christmas. But it turns out she’s putting together a Best of New England feature, and a place in Truro had to close. Mice infestation! So, she’s coming here instead. Isn’t that amazing?”
It was. Or rather, it could be—unless …
“When?” Evie asked, getting a sinking feeling that had nothing to do with her hangover.
“When is she coming?”
Jules paused and gave her a sheepish look. “Well … see, that’s the thing …”
“Jules.” Evie fixed her with a stare.
“Don’t freak out, but … she’s coming on Friday,” Jules said in a rush.
Evie’s jaw dropped. “This Friday? In three days Friday?”
“I said don’t freak out!”
“But I’m nowhere near ready for guests!” Evie cried in panic. “Look around! We have one room done. One! She’s going to want to tour every inch of the place. Oh god,” she sank back against the wall. “I’ll be a laughingstock trying to pass this place off as a real inn. You have to call her back and cancel.”
“I’m not canceling,” Jules said firmly. “This is your big break. And, OK, it’s come a little sooner than we wanted, but we can rise to the occasion. Make lemonade out of lemons. The renovations are done, you have everything planned, we just need to move up the schedule, that’s all.”
“And figure out housekeeping … decide on lamps … order toiletries and supplies …” Evie was dizzy just thinking about it. “And, oh yes, find a dozen other guests so Buffy isn’t sitting around an empty inn!”
“It’s Bunny—and don’t worry.” Jules gripped her hands. “We can do this. We need a little help, that’s all. And I know just who we can ask …”
Evie left Jules to recruit some willing volunteers and took off on a whirlwind tour of every furniture store and design shop on the Cape. She’d already ordered most of the stuff for the inn; now, she had to beg, plead, and cajole them into delivering way ahead of schedule.
“You’re an angel!” she said, almost hugging Mickey with relief when she stopped by the junkyard to see him. “You can have the beds delivered by tonight?”
“Just as soon as dad gets back with the truck,” he said. Today he was wearing a tweed jacket and brogues and looked like he’d stepped out of a 1920s gangster movie. “But I don’t know about assembling them …”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Evie vowed. “Now I just have to hope I can talk the dining table guy into constructing something from scratch in forty-eight hours.”
“I can bring some extra pieces from here, too,” Mickey offered. “You can use them as placeholders until your real orders arrive.”
“Great idea,” she said, hugging him for real this time. “It doesn’t need to be perfect, we just want it so Bunny isn’t eating her breakfast scone off the floor.”
She paused. Scones! She hadn’t even begun to think about the breakfast menu, and that was almost as important as the inn.
“I need to get baking,” she said, backing away. “See you later!”
Evie drove back to Sweetbriar Cove, her mind racing with new tasks. There was so much to get done, the new Bunny-fueled panic was almost enough to make her forget about Noah.
Almost.
A part of her was glad to have something to distract her from her heartache, but of course, he was the only one she wanted to call right now. He’d know just what to say to make her relax, cracking jokes—and then showing up to help in whatever way she needed.
She could count on him. She knew that in her bones, even though she had only known him a little while. A man like Noah, he kept his word. If he said he’d be there for her, he’d show.
And when he said he loved her …
Did he mean that, too?
She wanted to believe it, but at the same time, it felt like gazing directly into the sun. Just the idea of his love was intense enough to blot out everything else, so Evie forced herself to put it aside.
She drove on, arriving back at the Beachcomber to find the small, dusty parking lot full of cars and trucks.
She headed inside to find the cavalry had arrived.
“Take those upstairs!” Cassie was directing Wes and Luke as they hauled furniture. “And don’t chip the paint job!”
“The leaking tap in suite five is all fixed,” Stella called down from the top of the stairs.
“I have lamps for bedrooms two through five,” Cooper said, his arms full as he came in behind Evie. “Watch your back!”
She jumped aside, taking in the chaos of activity. Jules was up on a stepladder, hanging curtains in the parlor while Luke and Jackson were bringing in a massive dining table. When she wandered through to the kitchen, she found Summer unloading trays of baked goods.
“Cinnamon buns, raspberry and white chocolate scones, gingersnap cookies, and lemon tea cake,” Summer said, pointing in turn. “All frozen and ready to bake. Just stick them in the oven before this Bunny lady wakes up and she’ll never know you weren’t up baking half the night.”
“Oh my gosh, thank you.” Evie was overwhelmed—and not just by Summer’s generosity. “What are you all doing here?”
“Helping, of course,” Brooke replied for her, appearing in the doorway. “You didn’t think we’d let you struggle through alone? I brought linens and towels and a bunch of toiletries from the hotel, too,” she said, setting down a massive box. “They should work for the weekend. And let me know if you like any of it, we get a great deal buying in bulk, I can cut you in.”
“I can’t believe you guys.” Evie was just about ready to cry at their kindness.
“Whoa,” Brooke said, whipping out a pack of Kleenex. “No tears, there’s no time! Go show Cassie how you want things before she lets her imagination run away with her.”
Evie took the tissues and did as she said, coordinating the rest of the furniture placement with Cassie as the guys hauled things in from the delivery trucks. She kept one eye on the door, wondering if Noah would make an appearance, half hoping and half dreading seeing his face again.
Poppy caught her looking. “I didn’t call him,” she said quietly. “I was going to, but then I thought … well, I didn’t know how things stood between you.”
“That makes two of us,” Evie said with a sigh. “But thanks. I’ve probably got enough to be worrying about with the distraction.”
No matter how much her heart ached for that particular blue-eyed distraction.
“Now, what about end tables?” Evie asked brightly, not wanting to bring everyone down when they were all going out of their way for her. “Bunny’s going to need somewhere to put her scones!”
They worked all day, with everyone pitching in through dinner—and five boxes of pizza—until the last rug was down and the final lamp glowed prettily from the corner.