The Inn on Harmony Island (Sweet Tea and a Southern Gentleman #1)(6)

Sara met my gaze and then nodded. “Okay. I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

I patted her shoulder once more and then stepped around her and over to my office door. Once I was in the lobby, my shoes echoed on the floor as I made my way over to the elevator and pressed the button.

The sun hit me as I walked out of the building, the wind whipping around me. I took in a deep breath as I turned to stare up at the glistening office windows above me.

Then I took another deep breath, crossed the courtyard, and climbed into a waiting taxi.

I looked out the window as the driver pulled away from the sidewalk. I kept my gaze focused on the buildings and the pedestrians that passed by us as we drove.

Back in my apartment, I tossed my purse down on my frayed and faded couch and then hurried over to my bathroom where I flipped on the shower.

I needed to wash this day off of me. I needed the feeling of hot water beating down onto my back to clear my mind.

For now, I needed to focus on getting to Harmony and dealing with Gran’s inn.

After that, I could freak out.





2





MILES





I stared at my phone, which I’d just half placed, half dropped onto the counter in front of me. Frustration boiled up inside of my chest as I placed a hand on either side of the phone. Then I took a step back and dropped my chin to my chest. I closed my eyes as the conversation with Shelby ran through my mind.

I hated that I had to call. I hated that Charlotte had passed away. I hated how broken this family had become.

Most of all, I hated that even after all of these years, the sound of Shelby’s voice made my heart change cadence.

It was a ridiculous reaction, especially when she was the one who’d left. She was the one who had walked away. Sure, I’d let her go. After all, what could I do? She’d had that determined fire in her gaze, and after being burned a few too many times, I learned to get out of her way.

But now, standing in the kitchen of Harmony Inn, I cursed myself for not being stronger. I was going to have to face her once more. If I had tried to fix what had broken so long ago, maybe I wouldn’t feel so anxious. If only I had enough courage to explain why I pushed Clint away like I did, I might not be here right now. But the night I walked in on Clint with Winnie and told him to shape up or ship out, I’d never expected that he would take the latter option. I thought he’d do the right thing by Shelby and stop sleeping around.

I’d been wrong.

I will never forget the anger in her eyes as she stared at me. I wanted a chance to explain myself, but she never gave it to me. I feared that bringing her back here once more was going to be as pleasant as sticking my hand into the cage of a hungry lion. Unpredictable and would most likely leave me missing a limb.

“This is going to be a disaster,” I muttered under my breath.

“I-sas-er,” echoed next to me.

I glanced over to see Belle sitting in her highchair. Her hair was slicked back from the cereal milk she was now wearing. Fruit Loops dotted her clothes and the floor, and her bowl was turned over, creating a milk ocean in her tray. Despite looking like a complete mess, she grinned up at me.

“That’s right, Belle,” I said as I grabbed a clean dishrag from the drawer next to me and flipped on the warm tap water. “This is a disaster.”

Belle shrieked with laughter and began slapping the milk puddle on her highchair tray. That caused me to quicken my pace to clean her up before the whole kitchen became a milk Chernobyl.

It took some wrangling, but I finally got her out of the high chair and wiped down. She puttered around the kitchen, opening cupboard doors, while I focused on cleaning the high chair and floor. With everything straightened out, I called for Belle to follow me as I pushed through the kitchen door and out into the inn’s dining room.

Breakfast was now over, and it was time for me to clean things up. Charlotte always emphasized how important the guest was, and even though I was still reeling from the events early this morning, there was a sort of calm that came from keeping up with old habits.

Plus, I wasn’t ready to face what Monday was going to bring to me. I’d lived the last few years with Charlotte in my everyday life, but I knew I was nowhere near prepared to visit with her granddaughter once again.

A year ago, Charlotte had moved out to the small cottage a few hundred yards from the inn after she broke her hip. It was harder for her to get around, and stairs were out of the question. Plus, there was no way she was going to allow a lift to be installed in the inn because it would ruin the ambiance she was trying to create.

Instead, she forced me to move into the keeper’s quarters while she “took her retirement” in the new building.

It made her absence not quite as pronounced. But, even after six months of her being gone, I was still struggling with the weight of running this place by myself. Life was harder without her here, and in the sappy moments of my life, I allowed myself to admit that I missed her.

A lot.

“Belle,” I called to my daughter. She was pulling on the tablecloth, causing the dishes to slide across the dark oak table.

She giggled and moved to hide under the table. Realizing that I had a small window to actually get some work done before she emerged to wreak havoc once more, I began to gather up the dishes in a grey tub I’d stashed in the far credenza. Once they were picked up, I called for Belle to follow me as I pushed back into the kitchen.