Chapter 2
“You’ve reached Sadie. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” Sadie’s voice sounds through the phone, making me chuckle.
I’m not surprised she didn’t answer, considering the reason I’m calling—I expected her voicemail. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to pass up the chance to give her a hard time.
“Look, I’m bored and I gave you until ten.
Call me back, Sadie! I want to hear about what happened last night.
I saw the truck still parked outside this morning.
An overnight guest? And on Thanksgiving, just days after you got home from Australia no less!
” I laugh as I end the call, tucking my phone back in my sweater pocket as I walk up the porch steps to the inn.
Sadie Winslow may not be my sister by blood, but she’s my sister in every way that matters, and I know while I’m giving her a hard time about not instantly telling me a certain someone showed up at her door last night, she’s going to give me a hard time about going out of my way to drive past her place this morning—not that I actually went out of my way. But teasing each other is what we do.
The smile doesn’t fade from my lips as I step in the front door of the inn, comfort and peace instantly washing over me. No one in the Hawthorne family, past or present, has actually lived in this house, but no one walking in these doors would ever know that.
Why my great-great-grandfather decided to build this house when everyone says he never planned on living here is a mystery, but turning it into a boarding house in the early 1900s was easily one of the best decisions he ever made.
The Lantern Inn has changed over the generations but the homey feel of the place has never changed. It’s the one thing people always mention in their reviews, and it’s the reason so many people choose to return whenever they’re close by.
The warm tones of the original entrance are like a comforting embrace, pulling you in and making you feel safe. And the natural light from the new windows in the front door keeps the space feeling open and clean.
It never hurts that there’s a smiling face sitting at the old, ornate front desk the moment you step inside, and this morning is no different.
“Thanks for watching the desk for me, Annie.” I smile as my gaze catches her.
I try my hardest to cover the front desk once a week, but it’s rare I actually get to sit there for my entire shift. If I were smarter, I’d stop scheduling myself for a shift and accept the fact that I don’t have the time for it.
“Sure thing, Madison.” Annie returns my smile before scampering off, likely to gossip about something with the other housekeepers.
My gaze follows Annie, and I wish for a moment things were like they used to be before I started managing the inn.
I miss the camaraderie I used to have with everyone when I was still just another employee.
But I wouldn’t want to change how close everyone is.
They get along so well, making the atmosphere of this place better than I could ever imagine.
Then again, I’ve never been just another employee. They’ve always treated me a little differently, being the daughter of the owners. I don’t think it’s ever been intentional, but it’s weird gossiping about things around the person who handles your paychecks—or will handle them one day.
It was never a secret that I’m the Hawthorne sibling who wanted to run the inn.
My older brothers love Stonebridge Hollow and our family, but they had other dreams. Aiden knew he wanted to work for the FBI since he was in high school, and Wyatt?
Well, he’s always marched to the beat of his own drum.
I always knew they’d both leave, at least for a little bit. But small-town living is in their blood, and they love family too much to stay away for long.
Wyatt may still be flying all over the world a majority of the time, but he’s here every chance he gets.
And Aiden’s move last year may have been outside of his control, but he didn’t have to choose Stonebridge Hollow as his landing spot.
Soon, all the Hawthorne children will be back exactly where they’re meant to be, and I, for one, can’t wait.
The sound of the front door opening pulls my attention back to the moment, and I quickly glance at the reservation print-outs in front of me. I don’t remember any check-ins scheduled for this morning and most of the current guests left for their days before I stepped away twenty minutes ago.
Forgetting about the papers in front of me, I lift my eyes to smile at the newcomer. I’d like to say I’m not one of those people to freeze up when they see someone attractive, but this man would prove me wrong in an instant.
It’s his eyes that distract me the most. I’m tempted to pinch myself to make sure I’m truly awake with how blue they are. There’s no way they’re real.
And those cheek bones and jawline? Seriously? Is this man made of marble or something?
It’s the sound of his gravelly voice that has me realizing I’ve been staring at him far longer than appropriate. “Um, hi. I have a reservation?”
How can a voice be both smooth and gravely at the same time? Why is that so sexy?
In a normal situation I’d make a joke about how he’s asking me if he has a reservation—banter is my preferred form of communication—but clearly I’m not acting normal.
“Oh. Um. Name?” I ask, stumbling over my words. What the heck is happening?
I force myself to look away, focusing on the printed reservations on the desk. There are only two sheets, but neither look like they’re meant for the person in front of me. Both are for people with feminine names and are marked for late check-ins.
Before I can even lift my eyes back to the man on the other side of the desk, my brother’s voice rings out from behind me. “I love you, sis, but you really need to enter the current decade.” Wyatt reaches over the desk aiming to mess with my hair, but I lean back before he has the chance.
“What?” I ask, confused. “What are you even doing here?”
It’s not unusual for my brother to stop by when he’s in town, but I thought he left for a job early this morning.
“Come on, Mads. Is that any way to talk to your brother in front of a guest?” Wyatt aims a smirk at me over his shoulder before turning to the Greek statute of a man in front of him.
“Sorry about that, Beckett. And sorry I couldn’t fly you down myself, but I wanted to be back for the Thanksgiving activities yesterday. ”
My eyes shift to the man I assume is Beckett, wondering who the hell he is that he can afford to pay for a private pilot.
There was a time my brother didn’t charge as much for his services, but ever since he bought his own plane, it costs a pretty penny to hire him.
And he still gets jobs like crazy, having built quite the reputation for himself.
“It’s no problem.” Beckett reaches to shake Wyatt’s hand, offering a charming smile as he does. “I ended up needing to be home for the holiday myself, so it all worked out in the end.”
“Good.” Wyatt smiles and then turns his expectant eyes back to me. “You just gonna stare at us all morning?” he teases.
My smile is forced, and I’m sure even the stranger at my brother’s side can see it for exactly what it is. “Just waiting for you two to finish your conversation.” My smile comes a little easier when I turn to look at Beckett. “Sorry, I didn’t get your full name to pull up the reservation.”
“Oh, it—”
“Mads,” Wyatt interrupts. “How in the world do you not know who this is? Beckett Stone is quite literally the most famous singer in the world right now.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Beckett rushes to say.
“Dude, you may not want to flaunt it, but it’s the truth. I’m shocked your team let you come here without any coverage.”
“Well…” He lets the word hang, not even trying to add anything else as his body shifts slightly, a little color rising in his cheeks.
I thought he was attractive before, but that little blush does something for me.
Noting his discomfort, I address my brother as I wake up the computer to pull up our reservations. “You still didn’t tell me what you’re doing here. I thought you had a job today and had to leave for Lancaster early this morning.”
“I do, but the flight got pushed. I don’t need to be there until this evening. I figured I’d come by and make sure Beckett gets settled in.”
I frown slightly, not only at my brother’s words—why he thinks I’m not capable of doing my job frustrates me—but also at the fact I don’t see any reservation for a Beckett Stone in our system.
“What’s wrong?” Wyatt asks, able to read me far better than I’d like.
“There’s no reservation for Beckett Stone anywhere in our system.” My gaze stays focused on the computer screen as I try doing another search, but everything I try comes up blank.
“That can’t be right.” Wyatt’s voice shifts as he moves around the desk, moving to stand beside me so he can see the screen.
“Could it be under another name?” I ask Beckett, but Wyatt jumps in before he has a chance to say anything.
“That probably would’ve been the smart thing to do, but I’m the one who set it up and I did it under Beckett Stone.”
My eyes shift from the screen to my brother and I know the expression on my face clearly shows just how annoyed I am. I love my brother, but he’s never once made a reservation in any of our systems correctly. There’s a reason my parents never let him work the front desk when he was a teenager.
“Don’t give me that look. Sarah watched over my shoulder the whole time.”
“Sarah, the woman you know has a crush on you and loses all train of thought when you give her the slightest bit of attention?” The words may not be entirely fair, but there’s no denying the truth in them.
I love Sarah. She’s a great employee and a sweet person, but she has no idea how to handle her crush on my brother. It’s cute in most situations, but her lack of focus has put us all in a rather tight spot.
“Well, that doesn’t really matter anymore, now does it?” He glares. “Beckett’s here and planning on staying for a few months.”
My eyes dart to the man on the other side of the desk. “A few months?” I ask. “So, you were reserving a cabin, right?”
“I didn’t—”
“Yeah,” Wyatt interrupts once again. “Policy dictates any long-term guest gets a cabin, and Beckett Stone deserves the privacy of a cabin.”
I offer yet another tight smile to my brother.
His tone heavily implies I’m the idiot in this situation—probably for a multitude of reasons—but right now I’m sure it has more to do with even deigning to think The Beckett Stone could stay anywhere other than one of the few cabins we have on our land.
Wyatt’s right, of course. The cabins closest to the main house have always been available to rent, and they’re the first type of accommodation we offer for anyone staying longer than a week. But those cabins are completely booked, and have been for months.
“You’re right, except the cabins have been booked out for months. One will open up in a few days but then it’s booked a week later.” I try to keep my voice low, but there’s no way to keep Beckett out of the conversation from where he stands.
“I really don’t mi—”
“What about the cabin over by your place?”
“Wyatt,” I snap at his third interruption.
My eyes bulge and I turn an apologetic smile to Beckett.
I’m not a person to lose their cool—especially around guests—but if anyone can make me, it’s Wyatt.
“Sorry,” I murmur, my gaze dropping to the desk in front of me for a moment.
I lift my gaze back to my brother and keep my tone as even as I possibly can. “It’s not done yet.”
Although the estate sprawls eighty acres and dates back to the early 1800s, leaving plenty of time for numerous structures to be added over the years, in the short time I’ve managed the property it’s been an impossible task to get every single one renovated.
Over the last three years, I’ve been working on bringing all the cottages back to life. So far, I’ve been able to finish with the two closest to the bed and breakfast and the rest of the cabins available to rent, but the two near my house have needed a lot more work.
We also haven’t officially decided what we’ll do with those cottages yet. With them being so close to my house—less than fifty yards from my front door—I’m not so sure I want guests staying in them.
“What are you talking about? I heard you tell Mom you finished last month.”
My eyes fall shut and I silently send up a prayer wanting my brother to disappear, at least for the rest of the day.
“It’s all right,” Beckett cuts in. “I’m really not picky. A room will be more than enough.”
I open my eyes and the small smile he offers helps bring a sense of peace to the air around us—at least for the brief moment of silence we have before my brother opens his mouth.