Island Refuge (Wildflower B&B Romance Book 1)

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Island Refuge (Wildflower B&B Romance Book 1) Page 2

by Kimberly Rose Johnson

After checking on the guests in the dining room, she trotted upstairs and poked her head into Rachel’s room. There was no sign of her, and the bathroom door was closed, so she placed the coffee on the table. A low, guttural sound from behind the closed door alarmed her. She knocked. “Rachel, are you okay?”

  “Fine.”

  Zoe hesitated a moment longer, then left, closing the door behind her. The woman had been pale earlier. Could she be ill? She hadn’t appeared feverish. Maybe she had an eating disorder, like bulimia. No, that couldn’t be it. She’d barely touched her breakfast.

  She walked to the end of the hall, deciding to take stock of her cleaning supplies. No sense in tromping downstairs for things that were already here. She pulled open a closet and grinned. It looked like there would be no extra trips—good. Satisfied, she took the stairs carefully and scooted past Mr. Jackson, who sat at the reception desk with a plate of food and a mug of coffee.

  “Zoe, hold up a minute.”

  She did an about face and marched to the desk.

  “I wanted to apologize for not being here when you arrived. I had a family emergency in Tacoma. I meant to leave you a note with instructions, but I can see you are capable of taking charge. Thank you.”

  Zoe’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected his thoughtful words or an explanation. “Thanks, Mr. Jackson.”

  He shook his head. “Oh, no you don’t. Call me Nick. I haven’t gone by Mister since before… well, for a long time.” Sadness clouded his eyes.

  “Okay, Nick. I need to get busy.” She passed by the dining room and noted the guests had dispersed. Unaccustomed to bussing tables she pushed up her sleeves and retrieved the forgotten dishes from the table. It would be nice if the guests could clean up after themselves. She winced when a plate grazed her burn as she headed to the sink. At least there was a dishwasher.

  An hour later, the kitchen sparkling, she headed upstairs to her room. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she finally gave in to the tears. She hated cleaning. Always had, and the hot water had hurt her hand even through the rubber gloves. On top of that, in spite of Nick’s kind words, she suspected her days were numbered at the B&B. She could always return to her old position. Her boss had promised it would be waiting for her should she change her mind. She shuddered. Returning to Portland was not an option. Not as long as Kyle and Tara were still there.

  “Knock. Knock.”

  She swiped at her face and looked toward the door. “Hi Mister. . . I mean Nick. Do you need something?”

  Nick’s glowering face softened. He held up a tube. “No, but you do. May I come in?”

  “It’s your house.”

  “But this is your suite.” He placed a key ring on the dresser beside the door. “Here’s your room key. Be sure to keep it locked,” he nodded to the door, “and I recommend keeping the kitchen door leading to the dining room closed also. Guests may wander through from time to time, although I do have a sign in the dining room asking them not to enter the kitchen.”

  “Okay.” In spite of all that had happened she was beginning to like this man. “I got busy and forgot to use the ointment.”

  “I figured as much when I saw it sitting on the counter exactly where you’d placed it earlier.” He motioned to her right hand. “May I?”

  Zoe offered her throbbing hand. She caught her breath and forced herself to not draw back from his gentle touch as a tingle zipped up her arm.

  “That bad?” He studied her hand. “It still only looks like a first degree burn. You did the right thing keeping it under cold water. This ointment should ease the pain.” He gently applied the salve then tore open a sterile wrap and bandaged her hand. “I’m afraid this bandage will complicate your job.”

  She pulled her hand from his. “Thanks. I’m sure it’ll be better by tomorrow.” The room suddenly felt much smaller with Nick sitting beside her on the bed. She stood and fiddled with the lace runner covering the bombé chest. “Something tells me you’ve done this a time or two.”

  He scrunched his eyebrows. “You could say that. In my former life I was a doctor.” He stood.

  “Seriously? Why would a doctor throw a lucrative career away for this?” She waved a hand.

  He lifted one eyebrow. “Why would a five-star chef leave a lucrative career for this?”

  Her eyes widened. “Touché.”

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better. If your burn gives you any more trouble, let me know.” He handed her the ointment and left the room.

  Zoe released her breath and held her hand to her chest. Confusion jumbled her mind. Why had she reacted to Nick’s touch? Sure, he was good looking with his wavy dark hair and mesmerizing blue eyes, but there was no room for a man in her life. Nor did she want one.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ZOE STOOD AT THE TOP OF the stairs just out of Nick’s view. Thanks to the dynamics of the stairwell his voice traveled up and sounded as though he were standing next to her.

  “I may be in need of an experienced housekeeper and cook. Could you please keep me on your list and notify me if you find someone qualified? Yes, thank you.” Zoe’s pulse throbbed in her ears. He hadn’t even given her a chance! So much for being a nice guy, and here she thought she’d found one of the few remaining gentlemen on the planet. No. She refused to accept being fired. She’d show Nick that he needed her and when she was finished he would wonder how he ever got along without her.

  Zoe strode down the stairs with her chin raised, carrying an armload of laundry. She marched past Nick without a glance and deposited the sheets in the washer.

  “Uh-hmm.”

  Zoe spun around and forced a smile. “Nick. What can I do for you?”

  “I wanted to let you know we have new guests arriving today. There will be four total for breakfast tomorrow, unless someone else unexpected pops in.”

  “Someone else?” How had she missed a new arrival?

  “Rachel’s mother showed up while you were upstairs.”

  “Will they have separate rooms?”

  “Yes. Please make up the Orchid Room for her since it’s directly beside Rachel’s.”

  “But it’s in use.”

  “Those guests checked out right after breakfast.” He went on to tell her the procedure for preparing the rooms. “And all the cleaning must be finished by two o’clock. Check-in is at three.”

  “I’ll take care of everything.”

  “I’m counting on it.” He nodded. “One more thing. I’d like to add a late afternoon tea for our guests. Nothing elaborate, I’m thinking a small snack around three or four. We don’t serve dinner here, but if any of our guests ask for a recommendation for dinner, there’s a restaurant at the golf club that’s open to the public. Otherwise there’s quick food at the general store.”

  “Okay.” With the addition of the tea there was more work than she realized and only three hours to accomplish everything. No matter, she was used to hard work, albeit in the kitchen. She quickly whipped up a loaf of banana bread for the tea, and after placing it in the oven, got busy. For the next three hours, she cleaned the house from top to bottom including mopping the kitchen floor. Sweaty and hot, Zoe ran the back of her hand across her forehead and took in the shiny floors. She breathed deeply the lemony scent and smiled. She might be wiped out, but the sense of accomplishment more than made up for it.

  Nick would have to admit she was capable of doing this job. And bonus—she didn’t have one mishap the entire time. That in itself was a step in the right direction considering all the knick-knacks scattered around.

  After setting tea and bread on the dining table along with a fresh fruit assortment, Zoe went to her room and locked the door behind her. At least she had her own private quarters, which included a spa bath. Why the help’s room was so opulent escaped her, but she was grateful. A good long soak sounded divine. Lavender bath salts sat in a glass jar on the edge of the tub. She reached for them and dropped a handful into the tub. A minute later she sank into the sunken tub, leaned her head bac
k and closed her eyes.

  ****

  NICK YANKED OPEN the refrigerator and ground his teeth at the off-key singing, if it could be called that, coming from behind Zoe’s closed door. She’d proven she was the right person for his B&B, but that singing was almost enough to send him running from the house.

  Jenna would gently scold him if she heard his thoughts. She always had a kind word for everyone whether they deserved it or not. Remorse filled him. No one was perfect. He chuckled. Especially Zoe. However, he could overlook her lack of musical talent if his old house would smell and look this good every day. He took a bite of banana bread he found on the table and frowned, wondering if he’d made the right decision in calling the employment agency. This was good. Really good. If it wasn’t so important for his new business to be a success, he wouldn’t think twice about giving Zoe another half-dozen chances, but could he really take the risk? After all, the service and cleanliness of a B&B was important.

  The door to her room opened and a gasp escaped her lips as she stepped into the kitchen.

  “Sorry. I keep startling you.” Nick had a hard time tearing his gaze away. Her damp hair hung in ringlets around her heart-shaped face and cascaded past her long neck. She really was stunning. He shook off the thought. He’d been widowed for more than a year, but somehow noticing another woman’s beauty seemed disloyal to Jenna.

  “Nothing to apologize for. I’m jumpy by nature.” She rested a hip against the counter and crossed her arms.

  “How’s your hand?”

  “Better.”

  “Good.”

  “Can I make you something?”

  He held up the bread. “I know it’s for the guests, but I couldn’t resist. It smells so good.” He pulled an apple from the fridge.

  She chuckled.

  “What?”

  “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” She chuckled again. “You’re a doctor, so you’re keeping yourself away.”

  He frowned. “O—kay.”

  She sobered. “Sorry. I’ve been told I have an odd sense of humor. If you don’t need me for anything, I’m going to head out for the rest of the afternoon.”

  “Have fun.” He scowled at her retreating form. Somehow he had expected they’d hang out together. In retrospect, he’d guess she’d been planning her escape.

  He’d spent the morning figuring out the reservation book and fielding phone calls. The Wi-Fi would be set up by tomorrow, which wasn’t soon enough to his way of thinking. How had they operated without Wi-Fi when most guests expected it? No wonder he had vacancies. This house should be at capacity every weekend during the summer but not one weekend was fully booked.

  He scanned through his to-do list. Replace roof, hire gardener, paint house… with a sigh he plopped into the cushy chair he’d squeezed behind the reception desk. It’d be easier to hire someone to do the work, but he relished the satisfaction of doing it himself.

  ****

  ZOE MEANDERED THROUGH the garden and spotted Rachel under the vine-covered arbor sitting beside a woman who looked young enough to be her sister. Zoe hesitated. Her own mother would never go out of her way to spend time with her.

  She skirted unnoticed past Rachel and her mom and set out toward the Sound. In spite of the long soak, the small of her back protested her speedy gait. Somehow she’d get used to cleaning and learn to like it, if it was the last thing she did.

  Her foster mom had quoted those exact words more times than she cared to remember. Which reminded her that if she didn’t check-in soon, Michelle would worry. But what could she say? “I quit my dream job to be a glorified housekeeper”? Michelle had warned her about Kyle but she hadn’t listened. How had Michelle known what he was really like?

  Before Zoe realized it she was at the shore of the Sound. Sitting, she kicked off her flip-flops then pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, laughing when two seals bobbed their heads up out of the water.

  Her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. Michelle. Somehow she always knew when to call. “Hi, Mom.”

  “I stopped by your apartment this afternoon.”

  Zoe winced. The woman she’d called mom since she was thirteen deserved better. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called.”

  “Where are you, sweetie? Tara didn’t know, and all she would tell me is that you moved out and quit your job. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “What’s going on? For years, all you talked about was how you were going to run your own kitchen at a fancy restaurant. Did you get a better offer?”

  Zoe laughed drily. “Not exactly.” She ran her fingers through the tiny gravel pieces along the shoreline. “Kyle cheated on me with Tara, and they’re engaged.”

  “I warned you about that man. He’s a player.”

  Zoe’s stomach tightened. “I’m sorry for letting you down.” Michelle and Richard Brown had taken her in and treated her as their own. They deserved more, but maybe she was no better than her birth mom who taunted that Zoe would never amount to anything.

  “Nonsense. You haven’t let me down. I wish you had heeded my advice, but you are a grown woman and more than capable of making your own choices. You’re better without him. I’m glad you discovered his true colors before you married him. So, what’s next for my favorite daughter?”

  In spite of the circumstances, Zoe laughed. Michelle didn’t have a daughter of her own and had never taken in another child after she arrived. Her foster parents had talked behind closed doors about adopting her, but her birth mom wouldn’t allow it. Zoe had lived in constant fear that she’d be sent back, but thankfully that never happened. “I’m living on Wildflower Island in Washington State.”

  “What on earth are you doing there?”

  “I’m a cook and housekeeper in a bed-and-breakfast.”

  “Oh, Zoe.” Disappointment laced her voice.

  “I couldn’t stay at the restaurant. Not with Tara and Kyle both working there.”

  “So you should have fired them! You were in charge! I will never understand why you allow people to walk all over you.”

  Zoe blinked back tears. Mom was right. She should’ve fired them. In fact she would have if she hadn’t feared a lawsuit since everyone was so sue-happy these days. But there was no going back now. “It’s complicated, but the place where I’m at now is…” What could she say? Dilapidated and grossly beneath her skill level.

  “Is what?”

  “Quaint.” Where that word came from she didn’t know, but it fit. The Wildflower was charming in its own way.

  “Do you need your dad and me to come?”

  “I’m thirty years old and more than capable.”

  “I know, dear. But I’m worried about you.”

  “And I love you for that. No, I don’t want you to come. I’m still getting settled. Maybe later you and Dad could visit, though.”

  “Okay. Let us know. I love you and will be praying for you. Bye.”

  Zoe pocketed her phone and let the tears of regret slide down her face.

  ****

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING Zoe covered her eyes with her arm and winced at the bright sunshine filtering through the blinds. “Oh no!” She flung the sheets back and vaulted for the restroom. After throwing her hair into a clip atop her head, she splashed water on her face, applied a coat of lipstick, and tossed on the first thing she grabbed from the tiny closet.

  She yanked her door open and scurried into the kitchen. Cereal boxes littered the counter as well as a pitcher of orange juice and a basket of leftover muffins.

  “Oh good, you’re up.” Nick motioned to the toaster. “Mind buttering the toast?”

  Zoe snapped her jaw closed and quickly washed her hands. “I overslept.”

  “I noticed.” A frown puckered his brow.

  “I’d planned French toast, bacon, fried potatoes, and scrambled eggs.”

  “Sometimes our best laid plans are thwarted. How’s the toast coming?”

  She
reached for a knife and buttered the lightly browned bread. “Done.”

  “Good. Let’s get this to the table.”

  Zoe wrapped her arms around several boxes of cereal and pushed through the door into the dining room. “Good morning, everyone.” She lowered the boxes onto the table then turned toward the kitchen and wove around Nick who followed with a tray filled with everything else.

  Twitters of laughter in the other room brought a smile to her face. At least their guests were enjoying the simple meal. She reached into the fridge and pulled out a bag of peaches she’d thawed the night before and poured them into a glass bowl.

  Nick pushed through the door and stopped. “I’ll take that. You might want to go change.” His eyes gleamed, and he fingered his collar.

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  “Did you get dressed in the dark?”

  “Of course not.” She didn’t mean to snap but couldn’t help it. She’d worked so hard to prove herself to her boss and now apparently she couldn’t even dress right.

  He held up his hands. “I’m no fashion expert, but you might want to rethink that look.”

  She dashed into her room and looked in the mirror. For starters her top was on backward. How had she not noticed? But to make matters worse the top was sheer and she’d forgotten to remove her nightshirt, which now hung beneath the hem of her white top. A groan escaped her lips. Of all days to forget to wear her chef’s jacket.

  After making things right she took a little extra time to fix her hair and make sure she was put together properly. Satisfied, she re-entered the kitchen. “You know, you could’ve said something before I went into the dining room.”

  Nick looked up from wiping the counter. Appreciation shone in his eyes. “Honestly, I didn’t notice until one of the guests pointed it out. I may look cool under pressure, but I was stressing. Sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry.” Zoe skimmed past him and into the dining room. “Can I get anyone…” Where had they gone? She noted the wall clock and pursed her lips. Everyone was finished eating. It didn’t take twenty minutes to down a bowl of cereal.

 

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