“There’s sand here,” she says, and I glance down at her bare toes.
“Aren’t your feet cold?”
“I think I’m numb.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“You finish telling me about Punta Cana.”
“Okay. Well, the resort is open air and tropical, but I was missing dark wood and cloudy windows.”
Tessa looks away, but I catch her chin and turn her face back to me. “I knew working there wasn’t going to be the same without you. And you belong here.”
“I don’t belong anywhere.” Her lip trembles. Her eyes water again.
“Tell me everything.”
So she does. The back taxes. Her uncle’s plan. Her suspicion about Isaiah and the need for an investigation.
“I can’t buy the inn as is. And Joe still wants to sell.”
“No one is going to buy this place with a lien on it for taxes.”
“I don’t even know what that means.” Tessa huffs. “How can I know so little about running an inn other than folding towels and storing toilet paper?”
“You know everything about running an inn, like making it comfortable for the guests and caring about the place. You’re passionate about the Bluebird Hollow Inn.” I take a deep breath. “And I realize that’s what I’ve been missing in my life. I’m not passionate about any place or anyone.” Cupping her jaw, I hold her face and lock onto her eyes. “Until now.”
“What do you mean?”
“You and Jonas. I want to be a part of what you have. We’ll figure out the inn. We’ll figure out a way to run it together.”
“Noah. You said yourself you’re more than fixing faucets and babysitting a kid.” Her eyes shift, but I tug at her chin.
“I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t mean it.”
“Noah, please. We both know you’re better than here.” Hair blows across her face, and she tips her head.
“And you’re a better person than me. I want to be here. I want to learn from you. I want to share everything with you.”
“I’m a package deal, Noah. Jonas and I come together. Take it or leave it,” she flippantly states.
“I’d like to take it if you’ll give me a second chance. Being here in Lakeside, at the Bluebird, is my second chance, Tessa. You aren’t my plan B. You’re the only plan.”
A tear seeps from the corner of her eye, and I tug her to my chest, wrapping my arms around her like the blanket she needs. Or maybe I need the comfort of her in my arms. Pressing a kiss to her head, I whisper, “Let me take your worries.”
“Kisses can’t solve them,” she mutters to my chest.
“Listen to your heart. It wants my kisses. Give me time, Tessa. I’ll prove I can stick.”
16
[Tessa]
Three months later
Noah did prove himself.
A full investigation into Isaiah’s finances ensued. He’d stolen money from the inn, and he was charged with embezzling funds. Upon his arrest, I struggled with how I’d been taken advantage of. But Noah was by my side. Holding my hand. Offering kisses. Giving me reassurance that it wasn’t my fault. I’d given my heart to the wrong man. With Jonas in the mix, I wanted to believe Isaiah could be better than he was, but he’d proven me wrong when he’d left his son.
As for the inn, the back taxes were put on a payment plan that might take years to repay. In the meantime, I had a new business partner. Noah bought into the Bluebird Hollow Inn.
He offered Uncle Joe a fair and reasonable price and told him to take it or leave it.
Uncle Joe took it. I’m sad in many ways that this rift exists between us. He lied to me and tried to trick me out of my home. I’m a forgiving person, but this infraction might take a while. It’s almost a relief that he lives in Florida, and it’s definitely a blessing that he’s no longer affiliated with the inn.
Noah is now into everything, and in most situations, I’m grateful. He discusses every decision with me. He still fixes toilets and has started painting walls. He’s been relieved of folding towels and making beds.
“Come here,” he says one afternoon, holding out a hand for me.
“Where are we going?” I sheepishly smile at him. We share more than kisses, and it’s a thrill I never expected to happen. Noah is quite the adventurous man, and we’ve graced the supply closet, a guest room or two, and the new salon in the lower level of the inn with our new relationship.
“Trust me.” Noah leads me out the back door and into the yard, where the fountain softly burbles in the late May afternoon. Once Memorial Day hits, summer officially kicks off. The inn is booked for every weekend and most weeks. Noah has been instrumental in updating our website and advertising the inn in places to attract guests. We have a five-year plan, and I can’t wait to see where we go from here.
Noah leads me around the fountain to the old artist cottage. The windows look a little cleaner from the outside. The door has been straightened and freshly painted. How did I miss these improvements?
Noah opens the door and then stands back, allowing me to enter. Inside, the space has been cleared of all former art and instruments. The paintings are gone. The paint tubes and brushes are missing. The place looks cleaner than I remember.
“What happened here?”
“Another secret.” Noah comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me.
“What is it?” I rub my palm over his forearm.
“Jonas made a wish that his mom could sell her art.”
I still in Noah’s embrace.
“So we fixed up the cottage for our newest art resident.”
“Noah.” I spin to face him. “I don’t need to do this.”
“You do need to do it. You’re an artist, and I want you to have the outlet. This cottage is now yours. Not your mom’s. Not Isaiah’s, but Tessa’s. I want you to create in here and occasionally let me in. Maybe let me take you on that table.” He chuckles as he strokes my hair over my ear and settles his fingers along my neck.
“I’m not certain that workstation will hold us.”
“I reinforced it to make sure it would.” He leans forward and gives me one of the searing kisses I’ve grown accustomed to and love.
Pulling away from me, he stares into my eyes. “So I can offer you this cottage, a bed at my place, and all of my heart. What do you say? Take it or leave it.”
I laugh. “Noah, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying use the cottage, move in with me, and let me love you.”
“You want me to move in with you? What about Jonas?”
“You know I bought a three-bedroom.” Noah’s new place is a townhome behind the inn. We’re within one-hundred yards of the hotel. “Move in when you’re ready.”
“Are you sure about this?”