Chapter 4
4
CARTER
T wo Hearts Inn.
The lawn could use a mow, but I can’t deny that it’s as nice as the waitress said it was.
I take my time climbing the front porch, admiring the wood. It’s well preserved, with hand carved trims. The porch wraps around to a garden exit, leading to a forked path. The left path heads toward a neighboring two-story house across the lawn while the right path points at Deep Lake just north of town. To boats, a sign says.
The exterior of both buildings is periwinkle blue. They have white window shutters, decorated with lush flower pots brimming with sunflowers and bright yellow daisies.
I nod in approval before walking inside.
I scan the silent space. A long blue carpet rests on hardwood floors, leading me toward the front desk. To my left is a sitting area with a large fireplace and bookshelves. Very cozy.
Above my head, there’s a modern-looking chandelier, but it’s turned off, the room illuminated by nothing more than the natural sunlight coming in through the windows.
When no one greets me, I walk to the desk and ring the service bell. “Hello?”
Upstairs, I hear the creak of feet on the floor and a few moments later, an older man in blue jeans and a red flannel shirt descends the stairs. He’s tall and thin with light grey hair that’s still thick and healthy for his age.
“Ah,” he says, briefly pausing at the bottom to dab the sweat off his brow and catch his breath. “Good afternoon, young man.”
“Hello,” I say. “Do you have a vacancy?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” he says, smiling widely as he approaches the desk. “Welcome to Two Hearts Inn. How long will you be staying with us?”
“Just for tonight,” I say.
“Just passing through, eh?” He opens the guest ledger on the desk.
“Yes.”
“Well, please avail yourself of our long list of amenities during your brief stay,” he says as he offers me his pen. “Sign here, please.”
I take it, happy to sign his guest book. “Oh, I’ll just need the bed. Thank you.”
“Credit card?”
I fish it out of my wallet and hand it to him. He finishes up, quickly printing off another page for me to sign. I do, and he nods, his smile wide and... strangely familiar.
“Right, then,” he says as he turns and pulls a key off the wall, the first in a line of ten. “Let me escort you to your room. Is that your only bag?”
“Please don’t trouble yourself, sir,” I say as I grab my suitcase before he can. “Just point me in the direction, and that’ll be all.”
He hands me the key and points at the stairs. “Room 1. End of the hall. Very fancy room.”
I nod, then head in that direction. On my way upstairs, I once again take my time, admiring the place with trained eyes. A weird habit to have, but it’s necessary for my work. At the top of the stairs, I continue forward down the long hallway of doors and enter Room 1 at the end.
It’s a large room, too large for just one person, with a fireplace across from the bed and an en suite bathroom. The furniture is obviously antique but well-kept. Big windows with lace curtains. Floral wallpaper.
Bit fancy for my tastes.
But it’ll do.
I set down my suitcase and plop down on the edge of the bed, the weight of today sitting heavy on my shoulders. Good bed, though. Not too soft. Not too firm.
I bounce once to test it out. As I do, a scent drifts beneath my nostrils. Nice and familiar. That waitress’ perfume.
“Hm,” I murmur.
After sending a series of apologetic emails, I decide to sleep the rest of this day away. Unfortunately, I wake up just after ten at night, unable to fall back to sleep.
Usually, this is rarely a problem. I travel from city-to-city regularly for work, so I’m quite skilled in the art of finding a bedmate to preoccupy myself with. But I suspect that won’t be a simple task here in Small Town.
Then again, this is Kiss County. If the superstitions are to be believed.
But then again, perhaps I shouldn’t get some poor girl’s hopes up.
It’s better than lying around here all night staring at the ceiling, though.
I throw on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans and I head downstairs. As I reach the front desk, the woman sitting there suddenly hops off her chair to greet me. She has long blonde hair and wears a red hooded sweatshirt that says Kiss County High School.
“Hello,” she says.
I recognize her.
The waitress from the diner.
“You,” I say.
She smiles. Definitely her. “Me,” she says.
“Mika, right?”
“Good memory.”
“You work here, too?” I ask.
“Yes. This is my family’s inn. I’m... the night manager.”
“Oh,” I say, smiling. “So, not only are you a waitress, you’re also a?—”
“Shameless opportunist,” she says. “Yes, sir. I am.”
“There’s that Small Town hustle again.”
“We’re a town of hustlers.” She bites her cheek. “Is there something I can help you with tonight, Mr...?”
“Cartwright,” I say, offering my hand. “Carter.”
She shakes it, her hand as lithe and soft as I thought it would be. “Mika Michaelson.”
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Mika.”
“You, too.”
“There is something you can help me with.”
Her pretty brown eyes perk up.
“I know I might be grasping at straws here,” I say, “but is there a place around here people hang out? A bar or a club, maybe?”
“There is,” Mika says with a nod. “You looking for some company?”
“I might be, yeah.”
“Well, the good news is yes, we have a pub. Sparks. It’s about a block away from Bruno’s Diner, so it’s not too far away.”
“Sparks?” I repeat.
“Chemistry. Attraction. You know, sparks.”
“Very on-brand.”
“It’s what we do.”
I nod. “Great,” I say. “Thank you, Mika.”
“The bad news,” she says, stopping me from heading out the door, “is that it closes at ten.”
I stare blankly at her. “Your local bar closes at ten o’clock?”
“Off-season hours.” She turns up her hands. “Sorry.”
“You know...” I approach her desk again. “I’m really starting to dislike this town.”
“Oh, Bruno’s cheeseburgers aren’t that bad,” she jokes.
I smile. She is quite cute. “Is there anywhere else in this town a single guy can go?”
“There’s a biker bar up the highway,” she says. “About halfway between here and Big City, but...”
“I don’t have a car,” I say.
“No, you don’t.”
“Do you have a car?”
“My father has a car.”
“That the adorable old man who checked me in?”
She tilts her head. “Adorable?”
“I call it like I see it,” I say, shrugging.
“But adorable?” she repeats.
“You disagree?”
“No, he’s cute as a bug. Just weird to hear it from strange men.”
“Am I strange?” I ask.
“You’re a strang er, so I think the word applies.”
“I’m not any closer to borrowing that car, am I?”
“Nope.”
“Damn.” I sigh and nod. “You’re right. I wouldn’t trust me, either.” I tap the top of her desk before stepping back. “Since this town shuts down at sunset, I’m guessing the streets are pretty safe to walk at night?”
“Did you pack some garlic and a wooden stake?”
“What?”
“Kidding,” she says. “Yes, the streets are perfectly safe. For most people.”
“Most people?”
Mika’s big eyes flick toward the wall behind me. I turn around, coming face-to-face with my own reflection in a mirror hanging by the front door.
“Ah,” I say.
“You’re the hot new bachelor in town,” she says. “But I’m sure you’ll be okay!”
“I think I’ll risk it.” I take a step toward the door. “Thank you again.”
“No problem.”
I reach the exit, then pause as a whiff of that perfume touches my nostrils again. A phantom thread tugs me back and a sudden thought takes hold.
“You want to come with?” I ask her.
Mika sits up in her chair. “Oh, no. No, thank you. I’m the only one here, so...”
“Do you have any other guests?” I ask.
Her lips press together. “… No. It’s just you.”
“Then, come on. I’m sure the proprietor of a fancy establishment like this knows her way around town.”
“I do, but?—”
“So, come on. Give me the grand tour.”
Mika hesitates, giving her bottom lip a bite. “Fine,” she says, standing up. “But just for a little while.”
I smile.