by Leah Atwood
“Thanks. I don’t know why I tried to avoid two trips outside.”
“Same reason we do with groceries.” He chuckled, thinking of all the times he’d weighted himself down with ten bags, just to avoid another trip to his vehicle.
She echoed his laugh. “I’m the worst at that. Do you know how many eggs I’ve broken because inevitably one of the bags breaks, and it’s always the one with the eggs.”
“Try breaking a two-hundred-dollar crystal vase in the same way.”
“Ouch. I would have cried.” She walked out the opened door and set her plate on the table.
“I may have said a few words I can’t repeat now that I’m living my life differently, but I was none too happy.” After he freed his hands, he went inside for his plate.
“What was the vase for?” Sunny asked when he came back to the table.
“A wedding present for a college friend. We were like brothers at the time. It was December, so I combined wedding shopping, Christmas shopping, and grocery shopping all in one day.” He rubbed his head, remembering how ridiculous he’d been to think he could carry it all inside at once. “I’d almost made it home-free, but I stumbled over an empty soda can someone had left in the hallway. Had my hands not been overloaded, I would have seen it, but I didn’t. I tripped and the one bag that got away had the vase, and it went tumbling down a flight of stairs.”
“Did you learn your lesson?”
“You would think, but no.” He nodded his head toward the direction of the kitchen. “All those groceries, I brought in one trip, along with the new coffeepot and a microwave.”
“How in the world did you manage that?”
“Don’t ask.” The bacon called his name. “Should I bless our food?”
At her nod, he said a prayer, ending it with thanks for a perfect morning.
“Did you have plans for today?” Sunny forked a sausage and took a bite.
“Nothing fancy. If you’re up for it, we can take a walk through the woods.” Picking up a strip of bacon, he winked. “If you’re lucky, I’ll even show you the tree I carved my initials in and those of the girl I thought I’d marry.”
She laughed and raised her brows. “Anyone I should be jealous of?”
He let out a sigh. “Not unless you’d be jealous of someone thirty years your senior.”
“Let me guess. Crush on your elementary school teacher?”
“First grade social studies, Miss Guthrie.” He placed a hand over his chest and sighed. “My six-year-old heart broke when she married mid-year.”
Sunny snorted out the coffee she’d sipped. “Were you always so dramatic?”
“Hey now, that was very serious back then.” Sticking out his bottom lip, he gave her his best puppy-dog eyes. “My heart never recovered.”
“Until Madison?”
He blanched.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Red stained her cheeks, and she appeared horrified at her comment.
What could he say? Would Madison always be the elephant in the room for them? At times he wished he’d never told Sunny about her. When she’d asked if he still loved Madison, he should have given a straight no.
Reaching across the table, he claimed her hand. “We’re friends, right?”
“I’d like to think so.”
“Then we should be able to talk about our pasts without hard feelings or embarrassment, and that’s what Madison is—my past.” He flinched when he said it. He hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to put her where she belonged in his life. The ache in his heart grew, and his appetite left him.
With a sharp intake of breath, Sunny dropped her forkful of biscuit mixed with gravy. She jerked her other hand from under his. “My goodness, you are still in love with her.”
“No, I’m not.” He bent his head forward and rubbed his temples. “I told you that already.”
She pushed her chair from the table and stood, her demeanor fiery. “Even though we’re married, I don’t expect love from you. We laid our cards on the table before we entered this arrangement. I do, however, expect honesty. If you can’t tell me the truth, at least be honest with yourself.”
He watched in stunned silence as she stormed into the house, leaving her plate behind. What just happened? He scratched his head, confused and bewildered.
Why couldn’t Sunny understand that he wasn’t in love with Madison, but she’d always have a special spot in his heart? They’d enjoyed a unique friendship until he’d messed it up by insulting her husband and admitting his love for her.
But that had been a year ago. Enough time had passed that he’d been able to put the entire situation into perspective. If only he could find a way to do that with Sunny.
He left the table and went into the house to find her, only to hear the front door close. I don’t get it. What am I supposed to do? Leave her alone? Go after her? He had little experience in the relationship department. In the past, he wouldn’t have cared if he’d upset a woman he’d been involved with. He’d have called it quits and moved on to the next.
That wasn’t an option with Sunny. For several reasons, he had to do the right thing. He genuinely cared about her, considered her a friend. Not only that, for better or worse, they were committed to each other for at least the next year. Had it been a potential business deal, he’d know exactly what to do. He’d pursue her and woo her as a client.
Could that same strategy work for fixing the abrupt rift between him and Sunny? His motives hadn’t been altruistic when courting potential clients. He’d wanted their work and money, plain and simple. With Sunny, he only wanted to take away the pain he’d unintentionally inflicted, even if he received nothing in return.
He went to the living room and peeked out the window. Sunny sat on the swing, hugging herself and frowning. No tears, which was a good sign, but she didn’t cry easily. Granted, he’d only known her for two weeks, but he’d noticed her tears came more from joy, not frustration or sadness.
Cracking the door open, he watched her for any sign he’d be welcomed. She didn’t even look up. Was she purposely ignoring him, or was she that deep in concentration? He closed the door, and she glanced up. Didn’t say a word.
“Can I have a seat?”
“If you want.” Her monotone voice was even less inviting than her words.
He’d take what he could get. He crossed the porch and sat next to her, leaving a foot between them. The last thing he wanted to do was crowd her and further alienate her. “Can we talk?”
“There’s not much to talk about.” She raised an indifferent shoulder. “You’re still in love with Madison, and that’s fine. It’s not like we have a real marriage. I only wish you’d have been honest with me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her disapproving scowl didn’t bode well for him. Maybe he should have chosen his words better. He raised a hand to ward off the protest he saw forming. “Will you hear me out, please?”
A soft sigh came from her. “All right.”
“Did you have a favorite stuffed animal or blanket as a child?”
“A rabbit with pink fur. His name was Pinky.”
“His?” He was caught off guard by a pink rabbit being a boy.
She shrugged, but offered a sliver of a smile. “I was two when my dad gave him to me. What did I know?”
“Do you still have Pinky?”
At first she didn’t answer. “What does this have to do with anything?”
“Just humor me.”
“Yes.” She wouldn’t look at him, fixed her gaze on a tree in the distance.
“Where is he now?”
She rubbed the back of her neck and answered in a whisper. “In my nightstand drawer.”
“So he’s important to you?”
“What are you getting at?” She jerked her head to face him again. “What does a stuffed animal have to do with you lying to me?”
“Everything.” He took a calming breath and pushed forward. “Why didn’t you get
rid of Pinky?”
“Because he was important to me. He reminds me of a simpler time in my life, and brings me comfort, even if that sounds silly.”
“Would you be upset if something happened to him?”
“Probably.” She twisted her lips. “Yes. If he ever got lost permanently or destroyed, it would be the end of an era.”
“That’s how it is for me regarding Madison. Losing her friendship was the end of an era. I didn’t lie to you about my feelings for her.”
“Why did you blanch and flinch when I mentioned her earlier?”
“Think how upset you’d be if Pinky were a real person and something happened to him. How much more would it hurt you?” Please Lord, help her to understand.
“I think I get it.”
He braved resting a hand on her arm. “I’m not perfect, but I’ll always tell you the truth. Not only because it’s the right thing to do, but because I respect you too much to tell you a lie.”
“I’m sorry if I overreacted.”
“It’s okay.” His lips stretch to a tightlipped smile. “We’re both new to this, and no one likes to think they were lied to. I probably would have acted the same way if I thought you loved Kristopher.”
Sunny started laughing so hard, she had to cover her mouth. “As if that would ever happen.”
His smile relaxed and broadened, relieved the issue had been resolved.
Chapter Nine
“Do you have the menu ready for the next month?” Sunny stood in the kitchen, discussing business matters with Lisa.
Lisa, Crosswind’s chef, paused her search of the refrigerator. “I’m finalizing it this morning, and then I’ll turn it in.”
“Thanks. Sean and I are working on the website this week since we aren’t fully booked, and I thought it would be nice to have a menu available for potential guests to see.”
“That’s a handsome husband you caught.” Lisa wiggled her brows. “If I were twenty years younger and not happily married myself, I might be jealous.”
“He is easy on the eyes, isn’t he?” Her eye contact skills had become much stronger since she’d met him, for the sole purpose of having reason to look at him.
“A good man too, and polite.” Lisa scribbled a note on her paper on the counter. “He thanks me every day for his meals, and always asks if I need help with anything.”
“What can I say? I know how to pick them.”
They both laughed. Sunny had told Lisa about the Kristopher fiasco, and they both knew that Sean had essentially picked her. Regardless, three weeks into her marriage, she had no regrets.
“Where is he this morning? He never came in for breakfast.” Lisa looked disappointed—she’d already been charmed.
“He went to the cabin to do some yardwork. Since he’s so close, he told his parents he’d take over the responsibility rather than paying someone.”
“Didn’t I tell you he was a good one?”
Sunny grinned. “Am I going to have to tell your husband he has competition?”
“No, but I do have a single daughter.” Lisa winked. “Does Sean have any siblings?”
“Sorry to disappoint, but he’s an only child.”
“Didn’t hurt to ask.” Lisa picked up her paper from the counter. “I’m making a grocery list now, and will add to it after I finish the menu. Any special requests?”
She shook her head. “I’m good for now. I did my personal grocery shopping yesterday.”
“Our next guests arrive tomorrow night, correct?”
“Yes. Two different parties, six adults total.” She remembered the email she’d received this morning. “I had someone else ask if we had vacancies left for the weekend, but never received a registration from them. They might decide to drop in without a reservation.”
Lisa scowled. “That makes planning more difficult.”
“I know, but I’ll take all the business I can.” She started to leave, but stopped. “Don’t forget, one of the couples coming tonight has a nut allergy.”
“I already have it marked down and meals planned accordingly.”
“You’re the best.” She left the kitchen, making it out of the room without remembering anything else to tell Lisa.
She made her way to the office that Sean insisted on setting up. Out of the two of them, he was by far the more organized of them. What she’d put off because it seemed like a Goliath-sized task, Sean had accomplished in two hours.
Walking into the office, she was amazed how nice the room was now. Sean had taken out all the clutter Aunt Mitzy had amassed, and left nothing but filing cabinets, bookcases and a desk. He’d gone out the next day and bought another desk so they’d each have their own work space.
The only detail Sunny didn’t enjoy about the room was the lack of natural sunlight. True to her name, she loved how the sun felt when it beat against her, and she loved the warmth from its rays. There wasn’t a lightbulb available that could replicate for her all the benefits of sunshine.
She sat at her desk and logged on to the new website she’d been working on. Since coming to Crosswinds, she’d performed more marketing work than all her years at Thalia and Associates Marketing Firm. In the first months after arriving, she’d created new brochures for the bed and breakfast and had them distributed at various tourist information stops.
Once she became the official owner of Crosswinds, which would be in fifty-one weeks, once March thirty first of next year came, she planned to launch a grand re-opening celebration. Revenues in the years preceding her aunt’s death had declined. While Crosswinds had still turned a steady profit, there was tremendous room for growth by drawing on non-traditional guest slots.
The majority of rooms were booked on weekends, but with an increase in self-employment in the region, many people had more flexible working hours and she wanted to reach that crowd in order to book mid-week rooms. She also wanted to offer a girls’ weekend once a month. That idea was still in the planning stage, as she researched the best way to approach it—rent all rooms out to the same party, or bring smaller groups together for the weekend.
Her primary goal right now was to have the new website published. The current one was too basic, and only provided the barest of information. Nothing to draw the viewer in and make them want to stay on the page, let alone reserve a room. Last fall she’d captured stunning photos of the property and next week, she planned to take more of Crosswinds during spring with the bright greens and colorful blossoms. She would use them for the site’s headers and include a photo gallery.
In addition to adding the photos, she wanted a page dedicated to the history of Crosswinds and its history with the Underground Railroad. Aunt Mitzy had left a small file of information, but she wanted to speak with some of the old-timers and find out what knowledge they could add that had been passed down. The more she could document about Crosswind’s role, the more interest she could create to lure guests, though she had to admit that curiosity drove her more than business to discover further information.
She stared at the homepage, staring at the words already written. Yesterday, she’d spent several hours working on the copy but she wasn’t happy with it. The words sound formulaic and didn’t jump off the screen at her. How could she expect to draw in customers with a boring homepage?
When Sean came home, she’d ask his opinion. Marketing was her expertise, but he knew business and strategy as a whole. He’d likely be able to provide keen insight on perfecting the language. He also was going to work on search engine optimization and had plans to implement an online reservation system that confirmed the booking immediately. Under the current system, potential guests had to make the reservation and wait for her to reply with a confirmation. Essentially, it was nothing more than an email disguised as a reservation system.
Once that was executed, she’d have to make certain to enter any telephone reservations immediately, or risk double bookings. By upgrading to newer technologies, she hoped to also expand Crosswind’s reach. Her ult
imate goal was to have enough income from the bed-and-breakfast, that she could play hostess and fulfill the administrative side, while having the funds to hire a part-time housekeeper.
With the money Aunt Mitzy had left her to run Crosswinds, she could afford a housekeeper, but she wanted to use those funds for improvements on the property instead and save the rest for emergencies and unseen contingencies.
She deleted the first sentence on the home page. Welcome to Crosswinds, a quaint bed and breakfast with country charm. Bland, generic and nothing to set Crosswinds apart from other comparative establishments in the area. She grabbed a pencil from the cup on her desk. When her creativity froze, she often unlocked it by writing instead of typing. She scribbled several lines on a fresh page on her notebook.
None of them stood out on their own, but there were bits and pieces from each sentence that she liked. She scratched out a word here, erased one there. Satisfied, she arranged the remaining words into two sentences that would lure in the reader.
She typed it into the text box and hit preview to see how it would look. Welcome to Crosswinds, where freedom and relaxation intersect. Spend the night in a historical stone farmhouse where you can walk the steps of a secret passage used in the Underground Railroad and crunch on an apple fresh from our orchard.
Rereading it, she decided there was room for improvement, but it was still more enticing than the current introduction. It told potential quests what Crosswinds could offer other than a night away and laid foundations for a personal touch.
A knock on the door interrupted her concentration. She glanced up to see Sean standing at the door, dusty and covered in grass clippings. Even seeing him filthy, her heart skipped a beat. “You’ve been busy.”
“Is that a nice way of saying I’m a mess?” A lazy smile spread over his mouth.
“Maybe. But a hot one.” She clamped her mouth shut, heat rushing to her cheeks.
Amusement flashed in Sean’s eyes, but to his credit, he didn’t comment. “I’m going to take a shower and clean up. I’ll be ready to leave in less than an hour.”
“Leave for where?”