“The inn has a heart,” he said. “Hotels don’t.”
Fitting that it’s named The Heartwood Inn, he thought. He knew it was Olympia’s last name, but there was a genuine pulse there. Complete care. The downhome touch they advertised was very real.
“What are you doing there?” his mom asked again. She’d already suggested he go to Whistlestop Shores and find work there. Or come home to the plantation, though there was no work to be done here.
“I’m consulting,” he said. “There are dozens of hotels on the island. It’s a hugely popular place for tourists.”
His mom made a scoffing noise and picked up her tea.
“Are you seeing someone, dear?” his grandmother asked.
Chet couldn’t contain the wince, and that answered the question.
“Ah, that’s why he’s sad,” his grandmother said. She definitely had a lot of years under her belt, but her eyes radiated wisdom and kindness, and Chet couldn’t help feeling a measure of love for her.
“I did meet a woman,” he said. “And yes, she broke up with me.”
“Why?” his mother asked. “Is she nice? You never mentioned a woman.”
“It wasn’t a very long relationship,” Chet said. “We worked together. She lives across the hall from me in the inn.”
“She sounds lovely,” his grandmother said.
“Lovely?” his mother demanded. “Clancy, he didn’t even say anything about her.”
But Olympia was lovely, and Chet just smiled at the two women in his life that would never leave him alone. The butler arrived with his coffee, and Chet took it from him with a murmured expression of gratitude.
He sipped, thankful his mom wasn’t firing questions at him at the speed of light. She probably just needed more time to get them all in her arsenal.
“I’m going for a walk,” he said a few minutes later. “I’ll see you ladies later.”
“Lunch will be ready in half an hour,” his mother called after him, and he raised his hand to indicate that he’d heard her.
He didn’t know what was on the menu, but he was sure it wouldn’t be what he wanted. Probably salmon loaf or something as equally disgusting. A smile touched his lips at the thought of the childhood dish he’d hated.
The plantation had a walking path through it, and Chet had explored every inch of it in the past. His mind wandered as he walked, first to his father and then back to Carter’s Cove and Olympia.
“I think I really like this woman,” he whispered to the towering trees. In the next few moments, he arrived at the family burial grounds, shocked that he’d come here without thinking too hard about it.
His father’s headstone was definitely the newest and cleanest, and someone took great care of it. Probably his mother.
“Hey, Dad.” He crouched down and traced his fingers along the lines of his father’s name. Then their last name—Chadwick—spread across the top of every headstone. So prominent. A name that meant something.
Chet had never been embarrassed of his name—until the scandal at The Grand America.
“Maybe I need a fresh start,” he said to the gravesite. “Maybe I should go back to the inn and introduce myself all over again. See if she’ll take me back?”
He’d known honesty was important to Olympia. He’d known, and still not said anything about who he really was and why he’d really come to Carter’s Cove. She had a right to be angry. He just didn’t think she’d end everything because of it.
Or had he thought that?
He shook his head, the crippling thoughts too much at the moment.
“Maybe I should’ve come back here,” he said, straightening. That idea felt false, though, and it left his mind. Running back home to the plantation had never served him well, and he’d done the right thing by bumming around until he landed at The Heartwood Inn.
He was supposed to be there, he just knew it.
So do something about it. The thought streamed through his mind, but he wasn’t sure it belonged to him.
“What am I supposed to do?” he asked the generations of Chadwicks that had come before him. “Go knock on her door and demand she talk to me?”
It wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever had.
But he liked the one of showing up and using his real name, and detailing his real history, with Olympia much better.
He turned away from the little cemetery, still not crystal clear on what his next step should be. He knew he wouldn’t stay at the plantation for much longer, and he knew he’d be returning to the inn.
His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket to check the number. His heart dropped to the soles of his feet and rebounded painfully back into its rightful spot.
Olympia.
Time rushed forward and he slid the call open. “Hello?” he asked, sure one of her sisters had gotten ahold of Olympia’s phone and was about to tell him off.
“Hey,” Olympia said. “I’m so sorry to call. I mean, I meant to call. I did call. I—”
A smile bloomed across his whole face. She’d called him.
She exhaled, and Chet imagined her centering herself. Calming down. Putting on that sexy, I’m-in-charge-here mask.
“Where are you?” she asked. “And how fast can you get back to the inn?”
“I went to visit my mother,” he said. “I’m about an hour away.” That was, if he left right now. But he didn’t know where Thornton had taken his car, and he needed to pack, provide an explanation….
“Oh, well, you should stay and enjoy your visit.”
Chet frowned. “I don’t want to be here. Do you need me at the inn?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I need you at the inn.”
That was all Chet needed to hear, and he started striding back to the mansion. “I’ll be there soon.”
Chapter Seventeen
Olympia sat at her desk in her office, staring at the screen without really seeing anything. It felt like several hours had passed since she’d whispered that she needed Chet at the inn, but she blinked enough to get the clock to come into focus, and it had only been twenty minutes.
She’d rushed into her bedroom after he said he’d be there soon and changed into a cute pair of slacks and a bright blue blouse that complimented her blonde hair and blue eyes. Then she’d ridden the slow elevator to her office and proceeded to stare.
What was she going to say to him when he showed up? I’m sorry didn’t feel like enough, and she couldn’t tell him how broken she was. He’d run across the hall, pack everything he owned, and head back across the channel on the ferry.
She blinked again, and the next thing she knew, someone knocked on her door. “Olympia,” Chet said, jumpstarting her heart.
She leapt out of her chair and started patting her hair. “Just a minute.” She pressed her eyes closed. Just a minute? What was she doing in there that he couldn’t come in?
Hurrying now, she went to the door and pulled it open. Chet stood there, looking calm and absolutely delicious with a couple of days’ worth of scruff on his face that made his usually trim beard fuller.
He wore a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt, appropriate for golfing with business buddies. Or hanging out on his family’s Southern plantation.
“Hey,” he finally said, his voice as scruffy as his face. “You look…so great. It’s so great to see you.”
Olympia smiled, but it wobbled, and she couldn’t speak for fear she was going to lose her composure. So she just stepped back and let him come inside. Then she closed the door behind him and faced it for an extra second while she recited the Pledge of Allegiance to herself. She’d learned this trick from her father, who said if she focused on something like the Pledge, she could contain her emotions. It usually worked too.
“Thanks for coming back,” she said as she turned. “I have something for you.”
“You do?” Chet moved to stand in her way around to the other side of her desk. “I don’t need anything. Just you, O. I just need you.”<
br />
Tears fought against her now, and she couldn’t blink them back though she tried. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m this broken shell of a person, and you started putting me back together, and—” She hiccupped and sucked in a breath at the same time, the resulting pain in her chest horrible.
And she’d told him she was broken. She couldn’t even trust her own mouth.
“You’re not broken,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “And I’m pretty sure you’re the one who started putting me back together.”
She held onto him, allowing herself to cry a little bit. “I didn’t like it when you were gone.”
“Mm.” He rocked with her, and Olympia hoped she could get him to stay permanently.
“I do have something for you,” she said. “Come sit down.”
He released her and complied, settling into the chair opposite her desk, a place he’d sat before. She sat too, but before she could speak, he leaned forward, his hand extended. “I’m Chet Chadwick,” he said, a pleasant smile on his face.
Olympia almost asked him what he was doing. Instead, his last name flowed through her mind as she shook his hand. “Chadwick?” That same electricity that had zinged her the first time she’d met him raced up her arm.
“That’s right,” he said, his smile a perfect mask she wanted to rip right off. “Maybe you’ve heard of my family?”
“What person in Georgia hasn’t?” she asked, still a bit stunned. “You own wineries and clothing stores and—”
“Hotels,” he said, clasping his hands in his lap. “But none here on Carter’s Cove. My father adored Whistlestop Shores, though.” The smile slipped. “You should know that I used to work for The Grand America, and I had been living in campgrounds or out of my car for three weeks before I came here. I desperately needed a bed for the night, and I’m willing to pay whatever is necessary to keep that penthouse on the twentieth floor, even though the elevator is a bit slow.”
Warmth filled Olympia from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet.
“Oh, and I’ve never been married and am not currently married.” Chet flashed her a real grin this time, one with weeks of conversation behind it. One that spoke to her soul. “Oh, and one last thing. I think you’re incredibly smart, and beautiful, and I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”
He settled back into the chair, lifting his ankle to rest on his knee. “Your turn.”
Olympia could only blink, his words firing through her like gunshots. I think I’ve fallen in love with you.
“Olympia?”
She startled and looked down at the folder on her desk. “Yes.” She picked it up and extended it toward him. “Yes.”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “That’s all you have to say?”
“It’s a good word, don’t you think?” Some of her mental faculties returned. “I mean, I’m hoping you’ll say yes to my proposal in this folder. And I think you’ll be sad to hear that I’m going to have to say no to you keeping the penthouse on the twentieth floor.”
“What?” Chet took the folder. “I can’t stay there?”
“Will you look in the folder please?” She pointed at it and lifted her eyebrows.
Chet held her gaze for one, two, three heartbeats, and then he flipped open the folder. Olympia drew in a slow breath and held it, the way the yoga instructors on the beach taught. She couldn’t look away from Chet’s face as he read, and she certainly didn’t feel relaxed.
He had to say yes to this proposal.
“You want me to work for the inn?” he asked, meeting her gaze.
“Yes,” she said. “For now.” She got up and went around to the front of her desk, standing right in front of him. “Eventually, I want us to run the hotel together.”
Chet’s mouth moved, slowly forming a smile. “You kind of like me too.”
Olympia couldn’t help grinning back. “I think I may have fallen in love with you too, Chet Chadwick.”
He stood up and tossed the folder on her desk beside her. “So I can’t keep the penthouse.” He slid his arm around her, and Olympia cradled his face in both of her hands.
“No, sir,” she said. “So what do you think? Will you consult for us? Give us all your secrets from The Grand America? Bring me ice cream at night?” She let her eyes drift closed, sure getting him back couldn’t be this easy.
“No,” he said, and her eyes snapped open as her pulse snapped to attention.
“Why not?”
“Number one, you’re already running better than The Grand America,” he said. “Number two, you have to provide the ice cream if I’m doing all the heavy thinking.” He looked down at her, that playful glint in those green eyes so dreamy Olympia felt like the luckiest woman in the world.
“And you realize what you’re getting into, don’t you?” he whispered, finally, finally dipping his mouth to touch her temple. His lips slid down the side of her face, and Olympia held onto those shoulders for dear life.
“What?” she breathed.
“Did you hear my last name? We’re talking Christmases and stuffy family parties for decades to come. Have you ever been on a Southern plantation?”
“No, sir,” she said.
“My grandmother wore a gown to tea this morning,” he said, and she giggled. “It’s like that, all the time. It’s insufferable, really.”
Olympia giggled and pulled away though her desperation to kiss Chet had reached an all-time high. “I’m sure it’ll all be fine. But Chet, we have to get married right here at the inn.”
“You’ve got a deal,” he said, just before kissing her.
Olympia skipped the rest of the day of work, taking Chet with her to the beach. “There’s no beach-side service here,” he said as he stuck their rented umbrella in the sand.
“I’ll call the kitchen,” she said. She did, ordering the fried cheese and fruity drinks she wanted, and then asking her for what he wanted. “They’ll be twenty minutes,” she said. “The cheeseburger takes the longest.”
He looked up at her from the chair he sat in. “All right.” He nodded to her swimming suit coverup. “You gonna leave that on?”
She had put on her slinky, black bikini, but now she was really regretting the pints of ice cream she’d consumed over the past several days. Fine, her extra weight came from a lot more than a few too many bites of ice cream.
With his voice ringing in her head about how smart and beautiful she was, she did unzip the white robe and push it off her shoulders.
“Oh, wow,” Chet said.
Olympia knew she was forty years old and not nearly as sexy as some of the other women on the beach that day. But Chet wasn’t looking at any of them, and when his eyes met hers, she could see the heat, desire, and love in his eyes.
He reached for her, and she sat on his lap, the feel of his fingertips along her waist magical. “I’m so glad you called,” he said. “I was standing in the family graveyard.”
“You were? Tell me about that.”
“Just visiting my dad.” Chet closed his eyes and tipped his head back, obviously waiting for her to kiss him.
So she did.
Three months later:
“Okay, so don’t freak out,” Chet said, turning onto the lane where his family’s plantation sat. “We’re almost there. In fact, everything you see out the front and both sides is Chadwick land.”
“Wow,” Olympia said, her oversized sunglasses exactly what Southern high society women wore. “It’s amazing.”
“Everyone will be here,” he said.
“I know,” she replied. “You’ve told me a thousand times.” She smiled and reached across the console to hold his hand. “Do you think I can’t handle uppity people?” She laughed. “I’m pretty sure you were right beside me last week when I dealt with Mrs. Sherman.”
Chet had been, yes. And Olympia had handled the angry women with more zeroes in her bank account than anyone just fine. In fact, Louise Sherman had then posted about the great service and
fine staff at The Heartwood Inn, and Olympia’s bookings went off the chart for that Christmas.
He’d come up with an idea for a tree decorating festival in November, with a tree lighting the day after Thanksgiving. And then every day from Thanksgiving to Christmas, there were different activities going on at the hotel.
Crafts, game nights, free lesson days, restaurant coupons, the “gifts” were endless—and the inn was full.
Now, if he could just make it through this party of his sister’s, he and Olympia could get back to Carter’s Cove, back to falling deeper and deeper in love with each other, and back to business.
He thought of the engagement ring he’d packed, and his heartbeat fluttered in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he’d ask Olympia this weekend while they were at the plantation or not. He didn’t know when he’d ask, so he carried the ring with him everywhere he went.
Word on the family vine was that Eli was bringing a woman, and they could possibly get engaged this weekend too. Chet didn’t want to rain on his older brother’s parade, and he and Olympia had plenty of time for diamonds and wedding plans.
After all, her sister specialized in wedding planning, and the venue was already set. He just needed to ask her to make it official, and she’d told him to please give her enough time to find the perfect dress and still get married in the summer.
He wasn’t sure how much time she needed to find the perfect dress, but he figured summer off the coast of South Carolina lasted until at least September. So they had time, at least in his mind.
He eased the car up to the gate and pressed the button. “It’s Chet,” he said.
“Welcome to the Chadwick Plantation, Master Chet,” a man said, and Olympia laughed while Chet rolled his eyes.
Further down the now private lane, Chet spied several cars, all of them black with tinted windows. “Everyone’s here.” He’d known they would be. He’d purposely left Carter’s Cove later than he should’ve so he could arrive last.
That way, his mother would be tired out from all the talking, and she might only ask Olympia a few questions.
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