The Complete Legacy Inn Collection: Four Sweet YA Romances

by Sara Jane Woodley

  Randy crosses her arms and smiles. “What’s the soccer player doing with a camera?”

  “It’s a mystery to us all,” Nath says in a stage whisper.

  I laugh. I’m the furthest thing from a mystery. Except to myself, maybe.

  “Nice to meet you, Jonathan.” Randy smiles warmly and extends her hand. I shake it and can’t believe how firm her grip is.

  “You too. Anyway, I gotta go, duty calls.”

  I continue to the gazebo, picking up my pace. Warm sunlight bounces radiantly off the lake. I don’t think anyone could ever get tired of a view like that.

  Kiara’s in the gazebo lining up a group for a photo.

  I groan. She’s going to give me a hard time. Again.

  “Making a habit out of being late, golden boy?” She keeps her voice low so the subjects can’t hear.

  “Are photographers supposed to be on time? From seeing you at Eagles games, I thought that punctuality was optional.”

  She rolls her eyes dramatically and adjusts her XF 56mm lens. “I’m never late for people and things I actually care about.”

  My mind rolls through a handful of half-clever responses when she suddenly turns towards me, her face the mask of suspicious innocence. “Jonathan, why don’t you take the photos here today?”

  My jaw drops. Her voice is polite, professional, and just loud enough for the group in the gazebo to hear. She’s trying to make me look like her assistant. Behind her, the group is shifting from foot to foot, waiting for us to get started.

  “That’s not a great idea,” I stammer, trying desperately to think of an excuse. “I don’t know if that lens will fit my camera.”

  As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. Her face relaxes into a half-smile. She’s got me and she knows it.

  “Don’t be silly. We have the same camera. And the same lenses.”

  Before I can even pretend to think of another excuse, she takes the lens off her camera and steps back. “Go on.”

  Dread falls over me like a weighted blanket. Yesterday was my first day attempting serious photography since last fall. In my cabin this morning, I practiced taking a few shots and switching out my lenses, but I still feel shaky. Add on to that the pressure of having Kiara and the guests watching me? It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

  Delia’s words echo in my mind about striking while the iron’s hot. What if I mess up this opportunity? I’d never hear the end of it from Delia. Or Kiara.

  Can I risk it?

  “Scared?” Kiara faces me so the guests can’t see her conniving smile. “If you give up and admit defeat, I’ll help you out. Teach you a thing or two.”

  Scared?

  Give up?

  That kicks my butt into gear. Sure, the photos I capture might not be perfect, but better to dive in and drown than admit defeat. I puff out my chest and stand up straight, striding confidently to the group in front of the gazebo.

  “Okay, you two on the ends, I want you guys to move in.”

  I direct the group to rearrange themselves, placing the tallest people in the middle instead of the edges. I make a few more adjustments and tell one of the women to brush a stray hair from her face.

  “That’s a lot of confidence for someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing,” Kiara says.

  I won’t let her get to me. “It’s good that you’re staying to watch. You might learn a thing or two yourself.”

  I fiddle with my own XF 56mm lens for a moment, struggling to get it on the camera. My palms are sweaty as the nerves take over. The pressure of Kiara’s gaze isn’t helping.

  "Do you need a hand? We don’t have all day, after all.” Her voice is sweet as sugar. She leans casually against a tree, her arms crossed.

  “Well, that’s just not true,” I say. I smile at the guests. “The beauty of a vacation at Legacy Inn is that we have all the time in the world.”

  The group chuckles and I know I’ve won this round.

  A victorious smile crosses my face as the camera shutter clicks.

  20

  Kiara

  “So… how does it feel to work with Edendale’s star midfielder?”

  Bree sets her plate down next to mine on the table. Across from us, Stefi and Anaya take their seats, and we all tuck into our breakfasts. As always, the chat turns to Jonathan.

  “More and more of his goldenness is rubbing off on me every day? Can’t you tell?” I bat my eyelashes like a cartoon princess.

  Bree and Anaya snicker, and a smile crosses Stefi’s face.

  Just four days into our time at Legacy Inn, all of Edendale’s rules have been broken. The four of us would never sit together at school. But Anaya joined us for breakfast yesterday and we’ve fallen into a good flow.

  “I bet he knows exactly what he’s doing, that one.” Anaya smiles. With her long dark hair and gymnast's figure, Anaya was a shoo-in for cheerleader in her freshman year at Edendale High. She joined the squad and stayed through sophomore year, but she dropped out in junior year. She says she couldn’t stand the drama that came with being a cheerleader.

  “It’s just—” I shove a piece of bagel into my mouth, pondering what I want to say. “He’s got it all so easy. I can’t imagine a world where Jonathan fails. And even if he fails, he’s got a golden safety net.”

  “Ki. You know we love you—” Bree starts, putting her hand on my wrist.

  “Love me? We only officially met like 72 hours ago.”

  She ignores my interruption. “You’re taking all of this too seriously. It’s time to let go. Relax. Maybe knock him off his pedestal a little or something.”

  Anaya and Stefi are both nodding at me, like wise owls.

  Ugh. First Delia, now these guys. Why is everyone so obsessed with me enjoying myself this summer?

  Anaya looks around conspiratorially, then leans in. “Guys, I need to ask your advice. It’s Daniel. What do you think about…”

  Anaya’s voice fades into the distance. It would be nice to have a little fun this summer. Imagine, for just one second, being as carefree as Jonathan seems to be every single moment. Who says I can’t get the job done while having a little fun on the side?

  The thought of having fun is enough to recall the stern-faced image of my mom. She frowns and tells me to focus on my future.

  My shoulders slump as I finish my breakfast. Fun? That’s a pipe dream. Someday, when I’m successful, I’ll come back here as a guest. Then I’ll have more than enough fun for everyone.

  After breakfast, we say our goodbyes and I head outside to find my absolute favorite person.

  It doesn’t take long to spot the golden boy, with his matching golden hair, over by the gazebo. I puff out my cheeks and exhale in a huff.

  Another day of working with Jonathan Wright. Ever since he vowed to keep up with me, I’ve been throwing challenge after challenge his way. I’ve put on the pressure, given him a hard time, and left him with difficult tasks.

  Tasks he shouldn’t be able to accomplish.

  But he’s keeping up.

  Which means I need to try harder to throw him off.

  I would never admit it, but I’m actually impressed by how dedicated he’s been to photography. Ever since the Welcome Bash, he’s held his own. Even when he's fumbling with lenses, you can tell he’s putting in an honest effort.

  And as for his natural charm? That makes my job a lot easier.

  “Yo, golden boy,” I call out as I approach Jonathan.

  He turns, a halo of sunlight behind him. I shake my head, confused, until I realize that the light is reflecting off the lake water. He literally looks like he’s glowing.

  I jog over to escape the trick of the light, and I’m surprised to see he’s wearing a hoodie with his board shorts. I don’t hate the look, especially because he looks so much less pretentious than he does in his polo shirts.

  “How much damage have you done this morning?” I ask as he fiddles with one of his lenses.

  “Hmm, must be ha
rd,” he says, not bothering to meet my eyes.

  “What?”

  “Just like, being so on all the time.” He finally looks at me with a passive gaze. “It’s exhausting just listening to your voice.”

  I place my hand on my hip and raise my eyebrows. “Fortunately for you, only one of us needs to be on to do this job right. Why don’t you play with your little soccer ball or whatever?”

  “I can’t. It’s wedged under your cabin.” A slight smile crosses his face. “Come on, Kiara the Queen. You know you’re allowed to have fun, right?”

  That is it! My cheeks turn bright red and I finally explode.

  “What is with everyone? Why is everyone ragging on me to have fun? What’s the deal?!”

  I glare at Jonathan, waiting for him to give me an answer. To my satisfaction, he looks taken aback. Serves him right.

  “You know you’re more than just your work, right?”

  His words send weird goosebumps over my skin. I open my mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. My throat is dry and, for once, I’m speechless.

  A group of guests approaches from the Inn, snapping me out of the moment. Everyone wants photos at the gazebo, and we’ve gotten used to the morning rush.

  But even as guest after guest passes by in a blur, Jonathan’s words echo through my mind.

  I’m more than just my work?

  21

  Kiara

  “Say Legacy!” I call out to the two girls standing on the dock.

  Click. The camera captures the shot, and I check it out on the screen. But something isn’t right.

  I glance towards my subjects. The twins can’t be more than 5 or 6 years old, and they won’t stop moving around. In fact, the issue is that the girl on the right is less of a girl and more of a blur.

  “Mom, can we play in the lake yet?” The girl on the left calls out, drawing out the “o”.

  The twins’ mother stands to the side, speaking in hushed tones to her husband. Upon hearing her daughter’s voice, she whips around, her short, carefully coiffed hair barely moving.

  “Not until we get the shot.” She turns to me. “You. Photo girl. Did you get it or not?”

  Photo girl?

  Seriously?

  Most of the Inn’s guests are charming, but this woman makes me want to throw something into the lake. Maybe her.

  “Uh…” I look at the photo again. I want to set the girls free. They’re both tugging at their dresses and shifting from foot to foot, staring at the lake wistfully. I understand their pain.

  Unfortunately, my answer doesn’t come fast enough.

  “Girls. Stop. Moving.” She orders and the girls both sigh dramatically. “Take one good photo for your dad and then you can do whatever you want.”

  The woman whips back around to continue her conversation and the girls cross their arms, glaring at the camera. Clearly, they want to be here as much as I do.

  “Okay, kids.” My voice is small as I paste on a friendly smile. “Just one more and then you’re free to go to the lake.”

  My words do little to change their attitudes. They both have perfectly sour looks on their faces and I frown, trying to think of a good way to cheer them up.

  “Hey kids, check this out.” The voice belongs to Jonathan.

  The girls’ frowns disappear.

  Their eyes go wide.

  And a slow-motion montage of terror plays out.

  First, something light lands on my head. Something with distinct, pointy legs.

  Next, my hand slams down on the top of my head and my fingers contact a fuzzy, round, fat creature.

  I shriek so loud the mountains wince.

  “Get it off! Get it off!”

  I dance around, trying to get the thing off of me. Where is it? Did I get it? Is it dead? Is it caught in my hair? Please, oh please, let it not be a spider!

  After a hectic storm of movement, I slow down, realizing the creature — whatever it was — no longer appears to be on my body.

  What the?

  I stand straight and look around me wildly, my hair flying around my face and my loose T-shirt crumpled around my torso.

  Jonathan has the biggest grin I’ve ever seen. He’s looking through his camera, taking photos of the twin girls who are now cracking up. Their laughter and smiles are infectious. Jonathan’s getting every single moment of it.

  If steam could come from my ears, I could power a frickin’ steam boat.

  My cheeks turn bright red as I spot the girls’ mother, and a bunch of other guests, staring my way, completely shell-shocked. The silence is deafening, save for the laughter.

  “Sorry, all,” I manage, smiling sheepishly. “False alarm.”

  After a few hesitant moments, the happy chatter returns. Whispers and mumblings travel through the crowd, and the occasional guest looks my way. My face will be permanently red with embarrassment after this debacle.

  As soon as the girls hurry away to jump into the lake, I march over to Jonathan and smack him on the arm.

  “What was that?!”

  “What?” His face is the picture of innocence.

  “You know what! Why did you do that?”

  Then, from behind his back, Jonathan pulls out the creature. It’s a spider with eight spindly legs, eight black eyes, and an abdomen the size of a walnut. It’s also made of rubber.

  His eyes are wet and he can barely breathe.

  IS HE SERIOUSLY LAUGHING SO HARD HE’S CRYING?

  He’s able to contain his laughter just long enough to get out a single sentence:

  “Long… live… the queen.”

  22

  Jonathan

  If I could whistle, I really would.

  Kiara’s expression when I pranked her with the fake spider was immensely satisfying. Looking into her eyes was like looking into a raging bonfire. And her face? Even tomatoes don’t get that red.

  I stroll down the path towards the Inn, looking through my photos. The guests have all gone in for lunch and it’s our staff lunchtime too. There’s a great photo of the twins hugging each other and jumping up and down while they laugh.

  It’s perfect.

  On top of trying to keep up with Kiara this week, we’re in a side war to see who can get the most photos posted to the Inn’s social media accounts. Kiara is currently winning — all the photos posted so far have been hers — but one of these might just do the trick.

  I need to show Delia soon. I make a mental note to catch up with her once the day is done. I have a feeling one of these photos will be the winner today.

  I catch up with Noah and Wes in the staff room, taking a seat by the windows. I let them in on the prank I pulled on Kiara and they both burst into laughter.

  “I can’t believe you did that, and in front of the guests.” Noah laughs, giving me a fist bump. “Kudos, bro.”

  “Anaya was saying that Kiara hates bugs. I’m sure that was real fun for her,” Wes pipes in quietly, a smile on his face.

  Fernando is serving up sandwiches today and I dig into mine hungrily, chomping through it in two bites. Wes and Noah both stare and I shrug.

  “Pranking people really takes it out of you.”

  We finish our lunches and are about to grab some Oreo cookies before returning to work when none other than Kiara Garcia approaches our table. To my surprise, she looks vulnerable, staring down at the floor.

  I’ve never seen anyone look so defeated.

  “Golden boy,” she says, a resigned look on her face. She has the energy of a neglected puppy. “I wanted to apologize. You were right. I do need to have some fun.”

  This is a surprise. I sit straight in my chair, waiting for her to continue. It’s brave to apologize like this in front of Wes and Noah.

  “Seeing you laughing and joking around with those kids opened my eyes to something. Sure, the Inn is a place to work. But it’s also a place to play.”

  She lifts her face, and her eyes meet mine. She looks so sincere, so genuine, and I soften to her
words. Are we really laying down our weapons? Is Kiara the Queen holding up a white flag?

  “So I’m sorry. I’m hoping we can be friends.”

  I blink a few times to make sure this is reality and not, in fact, a dream.

  “You serious?” I want to believe her. It is Kiara the Queen I’m talking to, but she looks so… sad.

  “Very serious.”

  I nod slowly. Is our rivalry over? Can I forgive her for what she did last fall? I look her up and down, trying to assess whether I’m ready for our rivalry to end.

  Kiara’s eyes are gentle and kind, I’ve never seen her so vulnerable.

  “So, friends?” she asks, holding out an Oreo.

  I look into her eyes once again. After everything that’s happened between us, can we really be friends?

  I’d like to try.

  I smile gratefully and take the Oreo, accepting her peace offering. Without taking my eyes from hers, I bite into the cookie.

  There’s a satisfying chocolate cookie crunch.

  And then there’s…

  There’s…

  A blast of horribly intense mint.

  I cough and chunks of cookie fly onto the table. I try to talk, but the horrible mint taste makes it impossible to do anything but cough.

  Kiara’s face transforms. A wicked half-smile comes across her lips and her eyes sparkle in devilish joy. Behind her, Anaya, Stefi and Bree are cracking up. So are Wes and Noah.

  “It’s a new flavor of Oreo,” Kiara says, backing away as I cough again. “I believe it’s called Crest Extra Whitening?”

  The potent, overpowering minty taste of toothpaste fills my mouth. She replaced the icing with toothpaste.

  Kiara curtsies in front of everyone watching, and the traitors all applaud.

  She grins at me. “As you said, Jonathan. Long live the Queen.”

  I try to respond, but instead of a scathing comeback, I cough out a piece of Crest Extra Whitening Oreo.

  This.

  Means.

  War.

  23