Starting Over (Nugget Romance 4)

by Stacy Finz

  “You sure you don’t want to stop somewhere and eat?” Sam asked.

  “Nope.” He knew he sounded terse, but didn’t care.

  “Maybe I was bored and thought I could do better.” The words proved everything he ever thought about her. Why he should feel disappointed was beyond his comprehension.

  “You have got to be starved,” she continued.

  Nate wanted to tell her to slow down. She was doing sixty on a country road on a night with no moonlight. “Maddy will have food,” he said, watching as she overshot the turnoff to his sister’s house. “Didn’t you see the road back there? You missed it.”

  She pulled to the side and started to flip a U-turn, when they both heard a popping noise and felt her car drag to the right. Good thing she’d finally slowed down, because she was having trouble keeping control of the car.

  “What’s happening?” she said, braking.

  “I think you blew your front tire. Stop braking. Steer toward that embankment.” The ridge stopped the car and they sat there for a few seconds in silence—just the sound of Sam breathing. “You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me have a look.” He got out of the car, Sam on his heels, and assessed the situation. “Looks like you ran over barbed wire. The tire’s trashed.”

  “Great!” she said. No question she was having a bad day.

  “You have a spare? I’ll change it for you.”

  “You know how?”

  “Of course I know how.” What did she think? He popped her trunk and found the spare, but it was one of those temporary tires. “This isn’t safe to go too far on. We should head straight to the Gas and Go and get you a new tire.”

  “I doubt they have one for this model of Mercedes,” she said, and was probably right. Just plenty of Ford, Chevy, and Ram truck tires.

  It had gotten dark. He used his phone as a flashlight and searched for her jack and wrench. In no time he had the car up, the old tire off and the new tire on.

  “What?” he asked Sam as she stood over his shoulder, watching him tighten the lug nuts.

  “I don’t know. Most of the guys I know would’ve called Triple A.”

  “Really? Why? It could take a tow truck an hour to get here. Why would I wait?”

  “I guess you’re right.” She sat on the ground in her pretty pants suit while he finished. “What else do you know how to do?”

  “No more flirting, Sam. I’m not kidding. Knock it off.”

  “I didn’t mean it as a flirt. You’re just sort of an enigma to me.”

  “Because I can change a tire? Next time I’ll teach you how to do it. Seriously, a slow child could pull it off.”

  “Gee, thanks,” she said, and made a face at him. “I was talking in terms of how flexible you are. One minute you’re a high-powered hotel executive and the next you’re shoveling raccoon poop out of my kitchen sink.”

  “You do what you gotta do.” He got off the ground, put the tools away, and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Let me drive.”

  That got her back up. “Why?”

  “Because I like this car and I’ve never driven one before.” That took the air out of her sails.

  “Okay.” She tossed him the keys. “Let’s get your car at Rhys and Maddy’s, though. That way you can eat and I can go to the Gas and Go on my own.”

  “I don’t want to take this doughnut tire over their rutted road. Don’t worry about my car. I’ll get it later.”

  When they got to the Gas and Go, Griffin was still there. Since buying the gas station, he’d kept it open twenty-four hours, seven days a week, which had divided the town. Half loved having the convenience, while the other half argued that it would bring too much interstate traffic downtown.

  “Hey, neighbors. What up?”

  Nate popped the trunk again and got out of the car. “You have a tire for this thing?” He showed Griff the old one.

  Griffin examined the damage and lifted his brows. “This one’s hopeless.” He motioned for them to follow him into the garage, where he thumbed through a catalog. “Mercedes SLK-Class roadster . . . hmm . . . It’ll take a week to get it in.”

  Sam looked at Nate like I told you so. “All right. Just let me know when it’s in.”

  “You shouldn’t drive around on that one.” Griff pointed at the spare. “It’s safe to get you home and back to here, but I wouldn’t push it more than that.”

  Sam sighed. “How am I supposed to get back and forth to work?”

  Before Nate knew it, he’d volunteered to be her taxi driver for the next several days. It was because he needed her at the inn. At least that’s what he told himself. “I’ll ask Rhys and Maddy to bring my car to Sierra Heights,” he told her.

  “Where is it?” Griffin asked.

  “It’s at my sister’s house. Sam was giving me a ride there when she got the flat.”

  “I could take you on the bike.” Griffin had a Ducati and a handful of custom bikes he’d made himself. Nate was tempted to take him up on his offer. Especially because of Emma, he didn’t want to inconvenience his sister and brother-in-law, but he also didn’t want Sam driving alone on the worthless spare.

  “Thanks, but I should be okay. If not, I’ll hit you up tomorrow.” Griffin lived on the other side of Sierra Heights from them.

  “Sounds good,” Griff said. “So how’s Lina doing? She coming home for the summer?”

  Nate knew the man had it bad for his brother-in-law’s sister. But rumor had it that they’d had a falling out and were seeing other people. Probably for the best, since Lina wasn’t even legal yet and Griff was in his mid- to late-twenties as far as Nate could guess.

  Nate shook his head. “Nah, she’s doing some kind of internship in San Francisco.”

  “Yeah?” Griffin said, trying to sound casual. “That’s good.”

  Griffin finished the order for Sam’s tire and the two of them left.

  “I insist we stop at the Ponderosa to get you some dinner,” Sam said, glancing at her watch. “It’s nine o’clock and you haven’t eaten.”

  “All right.” He acquiesced because he was starving.

  When they got there, the juke box was playing country-western music and competitive bull-riding was on the flat-screen above the bar. Not exactly what he was used to in San Francisco. He looked for Mariah, but she must’ve left for the night. Tater came out of the kitchen and waved before a hostess took them to a table.

  The place was pretty dead, mostly just a few truckers at the bar. Nugget was a ranching and railroad town. Things shut up pretty early. Nate ordered a beer and Sam got a pinot grigio. When the server came back with their drinks, she took their orders. True to her word, Sam got a salad. Nate went full bore with a steak, potato, and grilled vegetables.

  “Sounds good,” Sam said.

  “Then why didn’t you get it?”

  “I can’t eat like that this late at night. As it is, I just look at food and it makes me fat.”

  “Yeah, you’re tremendous. Do you just say that to get compliments? Because you’ve gotta know you have a perfect body—” He stopped himself. “I’m not flirting with you. This is not sexual harassment.”

  “Perfect body? My whole life I’ve been told that I’m one croissant shy of a plus size.”

  “Who’s been telling you that? Blind people?”

  “Friends. People in my social group in Greenwich.”

  “Women?” he asked, and laughed when she nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Women are warped.”

  “I don’t know what’s with you these days. All of a sudden, you’re so nice. Like genuinely nice. I trusted you more when you were mean.”

  “Do not mistake this for nice.” He took a drag on his beer. “I don’t do nice. This is just us having an honest conversation and me making a factual observation. You’re not fat. Not even close to fat.”

  She smiled so happily that his chest expanded. He liked her smile, especially when she fired it up over something he did or said.<
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  “Then what would you call helping me clean up after the raccoons?” she asked. “Or going with me to get a new tire?”

  “Being a decent human, which by the way does not include giving away free rooms at the Lumber Baron.”

  “Despite what you would have me believe, you’re nice.”

  “Just don’t sue me,” he said.

  Their food came. He cut a piece of his steak and put it on top of her salad. “Protein.”

  She shook her head in exasperation. “Why are you still single?”

  “I was engaged once.” It came out before he had time to stop it. “It turned out she wasn’t for me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “And you never met anyone since?”

  “I’ve met lots of women since.” He dug into his potato. “Want some?”

  “No, thanks. But no one serious?”

  “I’m not looking for serious. I have ten hotels to run, including the Lumber Baron, which as you know is a challenge.” And a daughter.

  “Don’t you think the inn is doing better, though? It seems like reservations are up from when I first got here.”

  “That’s because when you first got here it was winter. We’ll always have problems booking the place when Nugget is snowed in.”

  “How do we get around that?” she asked.

  He waited until he finished chewing to answer. “Do more events in winter. That way we’re guaranteed the room bookings. But people know it’s risky because of the weather. Ideally, we should book local events with people who don’t have far to come and are used to driving in the snow.”

  “I could try to do that.”

  Nate could already see her head traveling in a dozen different directions.

  “Could we offer specials? You know, like an incentive to get people to throw parties?”

  He chuckled. “Yes. But we still have to profit from the event, which means before offering any kind of deal we have to crunch the numbers.”

  “Okay. I’ll work up a few ideas. Maybe we could advertise in some of the local papers.”

  He nodded. “What’s Lucky planning to do in the winter as far as his cowboy camp?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll talk to him. Perhaps we could plan a few events together.”

  “Especially if his bunks aren’t winterized. His guests will need a warm place to stay.”

  He didn’t particularly care for the notion of her working closely with Lucky. But he had no claims on her. Didn’t want any claims on her.

  They finished dinner and talked about a number of ideas Sam had for the inn. He liked her enthusiasm. He really did. But he wondered how long before she flamed out and went back to Connecticut. The best advice he could give himself was not to get too dependent on her.

  When they got back to Sierra Heights he walked her to the door. Sam stood on her porch a beat longer than necessary and Nate knew she wanted him to kiss her. Truth be told, he wanted to do much more than kiss. Instead, he stuck his hands in his pockets and waited for her to go inside and lock the door.

  He walked home, proud of himself for showing such restraint, then made arrangements to get his car back and climbed into a cold shower.

  Other than giving Sam rides to and from the inn, Nate managed to avoid her as much as possible. They were getting a little too chummy for his taste. He didn’t need any more women friends. He had plenty. Just ask Sophie and Mariah.

  Tracy called from San Francisco. The committee for the annual opera gala wanted to book the Theodore for the event. The Theodore was Nate’s largest hotel and the opera gala was one of the most exclusive events in San Francisco. A windfall for Breyer Hotels.

  “I want you to usher the event all the way through,” Nate told Tracy. “Anything they want, you do.”

  “When are you coming back to San Francisco?” Tracy asked in her affected, whiny voice. Apparently she thought it was sexy. “We miss you.”

  “I was just there,” he said, but no doubt about it, Nugget had become his home base, which didn’t exactly inspire confidence in his San Francisco troops. “I’ll be back in a few days.”

  It was time he started splitting his time more evenly, but he hated to leave Lilly. And if he wanted to be honest with himself, he liked working with the redhead.

  “Nate—”

  Speak of the devil. Sam came floating into his office in a blue dress that matched her eyes. He motioned that he was on the phone, but she waited anyway.

  When he clicked off, she said, “There’s a couple here who want to talk to you.”

  “Guests?”

  “I don’t think so, but they wouldn’t say who they are.” She bent over, giving him a nice view of her cleavage, and whispered, “They’re wearing teddy bear T-shirts. Like something you would dress an infant in, except they’re adult sized.”

  Nate tipped his chair back. “That would be the Addisons.”

  She made an O with her lips. “The Beary Quaint people? They seem really upset about something.”

  “They’re always upset about something. Let’s let ’em wait.”

  “Nate!” she admonished, and he laughed.

  “I just need to check the Giants’ score.” He played around on his computer for a few minutes while she stood there tapping her toe. “All right.” He got to his feet and motioned for her to follow. “We’re up two, by the way.”

  When she looked at him quizzically, he said, “The Giants against the Dodgers.”

  The Addisons waited for him in the lobby, doing their best to look like they weren’t snooping, which they were.

  “Sandy, Cal, good to see you. I hear you’re putting in a pool.” Nate slapped Cal on the back good-naturedly and Nate could’ve sworn the guy’s nut sack shriveled. Not that he was looking down there.

  Cal, as usual, let his wife do the talking.

  “We’d like to meet with you in your office,” Sandy said.

  “Have you met Samantha Dunsbury? She’s our event planner,” Nate said.

  Sam stuck out her hand. “Delighted to meet you.”

  Sandy ignored the hand and pressed by her. “Where’s your office?”

  “Let’s take this into the conference room.” Nate didn’t want them stepping foot in his office.

  He signaled for them to take seats at the big table and Sam offered them soft drinks from the mini bar.

  “Let’s cut to the chase here,” Sandy said. “It’s our understanding that you’ve gotten that Matthews woman to turn the place into a restaurant.”

  “Yeah, well, you understood wrong,” Nate said, and Sam looked at him like she thought he was being rude, which he was, because the Addisons bugged the crap out of him.

  “Well, we have it on excellent authority,” Sandy said, and Nate could’ve sworn the 3-D bear on her shirt nodded. “It’s all over town that you’re running a restaurant on the side. You don’t have permits for that and we’ll shut you down.”

  “Go for it,” Nate dared, and started to get up to walk away.

  Sam cleared her throat and beckoned him with her eyes to stay put. For whatever reason he followed her lead. The woman sure was bossy.

  “You’ve gotten bad information, Sandy,” Sam said. “We’ve hired Emily to prepare breakfasts and late afternoon snacks for our guests. It’s included in their room rate. We are not serving meals to anyone who is not staying here, unless you include members of the staff, who eat for free.”

  “That’s not at all what we’ve heard,” Sandy insisted. “We heard you’re running a restaurant.”

  “We can’t help what you heard,” Nate said. “What Sam said is the truth. As for permits, we’re perfectly within our rights to serve food to our guests, since we are a bed and breakfast.” He emphasized “breakfast.”

  Sandy started to say something, but Nate cut her off. “We’re done. Good luck with your bear pool.” And with that he walked out, not wanting to give the Addisons any more of his time.
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  A little while later, Sam found him in his office catching up on a pile of paperwork. “Good luck with your bear pool? You really had to throw that in?”

  “Just keeping it classy,” he said, and turned his focus back to the work he’d been doing. When Sam didn’t leave, he asked, “You need something?”

  “No. Just checking in. Checking in . . . get it? Hotel humor.”

  He lifted his head slightly. “You’re weird. Now go away.”

  On her way out, Nate got a nice view of her awesome ass . . . and he really needed to stop doing that. What he needed was to spend more time in San Francisco and date women he didn’t work with, didn’t live next door to, and who didn’t make bad hotel jokes.

  Checking in. He rolled his eyes and laughed.

  Chapter 11

  “So this it, huh?” Sam walked around Lucky’s property, watching a crew of men erect a row of pipe corrals. They were closing in on mid-May and he still planned to open by summer.

  “What do you think?” Lucky asked.

  To Sam it looked like there was still a lot of work to be done, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “It’s . . . it’s getting there.”

  “You didn’t see it before,” Lucky said. “But I’m making progress. Come check out the lodge.”

  When Sam had first driven up, she’d seen the large stack-stone and log structure. What made it particularly impressive was the roofline—a series of staggered peaks that rose to the sky like majestic wooden tepees.

  “This is it,” Lucky said, taking her inside the lodge’s massive double doors. “You ever see Dirty Dancing?”

  “Of course,” she said, trailing behind him, stopping to take in the interesting architecture—Native American meets Frank Lloyd Wright’s prairie style. “Patrick Swayze. Jennifer Grey. They spend the summer at a resort in the Catskills. I’m surprised you’ve seen it. Isn’t it considered a chick film?”

  Lucky grinned. “I’ve been known to see chick flicks every now and again. This place sort of reminds me of that.”

  Not so much to Sam. But it was something all right. Sam took in the knotty-pine pitched ceilings, the mammoth picture windows and the tongue-and-groove plank floors. She walked in little circles until her gaze fell on the stone fireplace in the corner. “This place is beyond spectacular.”