Chapter Nine The Honeymooners
Lucy.
There was no time to celebrate properly. Kitty popped into the foyer with a squeal and her phone. “Honeymooners! The arrival window says one to three. Which means they will be here at noon.”
I ignored my tired body. “All right. We have work to do.”
We attacked the second-floor suite like a pit crew, cleaning it and doing the last finishing touches.
Thankfully, a lot of the hard work had been done yesterday since we knew these guests were coming.
The wainscotting looked clean, the wallpaper with faded blue birds, and the furniture was polished.
Removing the drop ceiling had revealed impressive molding that just needed cleaning.
The shag rug had met the dumpster and scarred wooden floors greeted us.
It was too bad there wasn’t time for sanding and polishing the floors but we could do that later.
Jane carried in a basket with tiny jars of her blackberry jam and two lemon shortbreads tied with red twine, setting them on the small round table by the window which had just been scrubbed. “I know we are not a five-star hotel, but we can make them welcome.”
“It’s perfect,” I told her, fluffing the quilt at the foot of the bed. We had found it in the linen closet, hand-stitched and so soft. The old brass headboard gleamed after Dad polished it to within an inch of its life. The room smelled faintly of cinnamon and fresh soap.
Helen swept in with a stack of folded notecards and a floral pen. “Personalized welcome cards.”
“Mom, are you sure that’s necessary?” I asked, but my protest was weak.
She was already writing in her looping script. “‘Welcome to your first chapter. From our family to yours, we wish you joy.’ Signed with a little heart.”
“They are cute,” Jane noted.
Meri trailed in, arms full of glossy pamphlets, putting them on the desk. “Information packets. An area map, ski hill schedule, urgent care location, restaurant list, and a sheet on snow safety that I definitely wrote too frankly but I stand by it.”
“That’s incredible. Thank you,” I said, genuinely grateful.
She adjusted her glasses. “Someone needs to run the information desk in this experiment."
“I love you,” I told her, and she flushed pink in a way that made me want to hug her but I knew she wouldn’t appreciate it.
Dex appeared in the bathroom doorway with a small toolbox and the face of a man who preferred predictability and was learning to live without it.
“I tightened the hinges on the bathroom door so no one gets an accidental lock-in. Also, your radiators can get very warm. You might need to talk to a plumber about it. I noted this on your clipboard.”
“You made notes on my clipboard?”
“Yes.”
I stared at him. “Is nothing sacred?”
“Not when guests can sue,” he replied, entirely deadpan.
Jane made a small sound that might have been amusement. She smoothed the bedspread again, then nudged the welcome tray a quarter inch to the left. Her hands were steady, but when Braxton’s voice drifted up from the garden, they became still as her head tilted to listen.
“Step is fixed. There’s no more ankle death traps,” he called from outside.
Jane pretended to check the curtains. She had no reason to be facing the window that long. I bit back a smile.
“All right,” I said. “Linens, jam, safety packets, welcome card, and a heater warning. Am I missing anything?”
“Flowers,” Helen trilled, reappearing like a magician with a tiny jar of evergreen and white carnations. “There. It looks perfect.”
It did look perfect. Even if it was a little worn, it was beautiful and warm. I had to admit, I was falling in love with the place.
Downstairs, the foyer looked charming in a way that took all night to achieve. The exit sign glowed discreetly. Kitty had arranged a bowl of wrapped chocolates for guests. Meri had placed a small, tasteful frame on the counter with the Wi-Fi password written in her tidy print.
A car turned in the drive. Kitty squeaked. “Places!”
Helen spread her arms like a general. “Smile but not too much. William, no stories unless asked. Lydia, don't film! And Meri, don't discuss anything negative. No one wants to hear how dangerous the world can be. Jane, remember to breathe.”
Jane inhaled obediently then fled to the kitchen. Dex leaned a shoulder against the archway and folded his arms, expression mild. He wasn't smiling, and somehow I thought he was amused.
The door opened to reveal two people bundled in matching scarves. A tall man with cheeks pink from the cold and a woman whose eyes shone. “Hi. We have a reservation. We’re the Honeymooners.”
The bride had a laugh. “He’s Ed and I’m Kelsy. The funny part is that our last name is Honeymooners.”
“Welcome to the SnowDrop Inn,” I said, stepping forward. My voice didn't tremble. I was proud of that. “I am Lucy. We are so happy you are here.”
We filled out the registration card, and the pen chose this moment to leak silently across the signature line. I turned the blot into a heart with two deft strokes and smiled. “My sister Jane has prepared a small welcome treat to enjoy in your room. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Let me get your bags,” Dad offered but Dex had already moved forward, grabbing the luggage.
We led the honeymooners up the stairs. At the suite, I showed them the bathroom, the heater, the extra blankets, and the view. The groom stood behind his bride and wrapped his arms around her shoulders while she looked out at the pines, and I had to look away from how sweet that was.
“This is perfect,” she said, turning back to me. “It feels like home with all the welcome we were just given.”
I swallowed the ridiculous prickle in my throat. "That's very kind.”
Back in the hall, I nearly collided with Dex as he lugged the luggage up the steps.
“You survived,” he said, eyes amused.
“Barely. I’m just glad they seem happy,” I answered. I waited as he put the luggage in the room and backed out. We both walked down the stairs, leaving the honeymooning couple behind.
“You should have a rest. You and Jane both,” Dex admonished.
“There’s no time. Kitty has booked more guests so we need to get other rooms ready,” I said with a yawn.
“Let your family handle it,” Dex advised.
I blinked at him in disbelief. “Kitty? Lydia? My mother?”
“Meri and William seem somewhat sensible. Plus, Braxton and I can assist to keep the chaos to a minimum,” Dex offered.
I snorted. “I don’t think you’re capable of keeping the Bennets in line.”
“I have an entire company of architects and builders. I’m more than capable of leading a simple renovation project." Dex frowned at me.
I was about to protest again when Dex grabbed my hand. In the years I had worked for Fitzwilliam Hale Architecture, I had never seen Dex touch anyone. Shocked, I stared down at our joined fingers.
“If you aren’t going to think about yourself, think about Jane. She’s been weaving back and forth on her feet because she thinks she needs to keep up to you. Both of you need a simple nap. Just an hour or so,” Dex told me.
“You’re trying to guilt me into taking a nap,” I managed to say. It was strange having someone concerned about me. I rather liked my hand in his, I thought fuzzily and realized I must be more tired than I thought.
“Maybe,” Dex murmured.
I should have left it at that. Instead, I said, “Thank you. For the hinge and for the notes on my clipboard." I couldn’t make myself add what I meant, which was thank you for the way he looked pleased when we passed the inspection, as if the inn belonged to him as well.
His gaze slid to me. Warm, steady, and probably a little dangerous to my heart. “You’re welcome.”
Something easy slipped between us then, a brief silence that didn't need filling.
His expression softened the way it did when he forgot to be efficient, and I felt a flutter low in my chest that I didn't give permission to exist. It startled me, enough that I looked away first. I untangled my hand from his.
“Maybe I should make sure Jane has a rest.”
I retreated to the kitchen, reminding myself that Dex was eventually going to go back to his life in the city. He couldn’t stay here forever. In fact, he had extended his stay far longer than necessary.
What did that mean? Why was he still here?
“Lucy? Are you okay?” Jane gently asked. She set a recipe book down to give me all of her attention.
“I think we’ve done enough for the day. I’m tired and I know you must be, so I’m suggesting a quick nap,” I told her.
“What about preparing dinner?” Jane frowned.
“Kitty can do it and Meri can help,” I suggested.
Jane reluctantly nodded. “As long as Lydia and Mom stay away from the kitchen.”
“I doubt Lydia would help so there isn’t any worry about that,” I dryly mentioned. “I’ll tell Meri and meet you upstairs.”
It didn’t take long to track Meri down, who made a face at the request but agreed to help Kitty stay on track with something simple yet tasty for dinner.
I yawned again as I made my way upstairs to the apartment I shared with Jane. It was still a time capsule to the seventies since family quarters would be the very last thing to be renovated.
Jane was sitting on the sofa, holding a mug in both hands.
“Lucy, I heated up some cocoa for us,” Jane pointed to the mug on the coffee table.
I joined her on the sofa, cuddling the mug and breathing in the sweet scent.
“I like him,” she blurted.
“Braxton,” I surmised. Saying his name made her blush. “I know.”
She stared at her mug. “I’m not very good at this.”
“Very good at what?” I gently prompted.
“Relationships. I want to be careful after what happened with James. I don’t know if I can trust that Braxton likes me,” Jane ruefully reflected.
“He keeps inventing reasons to carry things for you. He volunteered for a week of fixing steps. He can’t take his eyes off you.
I think that means Braxton is falling for you,” I dryly mentioned.
I didn’t push about James. Something had happened there that Jane didn’t speak about.
In the past, if I tried to bring the subject up, she closed herself off from me.
“Men don’t tend to like me,” Jane whispered.
My chest squeezed and I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Oh, Jane. I really think Braxton does like you. I’m not the only one who has noticed his behavior.”
Jan leaned against my shoulder. “Don’t tell Mom. You know what a nightmare she can be about matchmaking.”
“I will take your secret to the grave,” I solemnly promised. “Now, let’s get some rest.”
All too soon we were woken by the alarm.
We stumbled down the stairs, Jane towards the kitchen to help with any last minute details before dinner and I to the foyer to see where we were at with renovations.
It was starting to darken outside and I could see my dad with Dex trying to fix the shutter that had been hanging sideways when I first arrived.
Grabbing my coat, I headed outside to watch. Dex gave me a distracted smile that I felt all the way to my toes. I was about to greet them when headlights swung into the lane.
Knowing that we didn’t have any more guests checking in today, I walked to the front of the inn to watch a sleek car ease to a stop.
The driver’s door opened and a woman stepped out, tall in a cream coat belted at the waist, and fashionable heeled boots.
She took in the porch with a practiced scan that felt like a verdict.
“Hello,” she called, bright and confident. “I am looking for Dex Fitzwilliam.”
I felt the heat in my cheeks drop straight through me to the snow. Beside me, Dex’s posture changed by barely a breath.
“Carly,” he said, and the name felt like a pebble tossed into a still pool, the ripples heading straight for us. “What are you doing here?”
She smiled like she had arrived exactly where she meant to be. “I thought I would surprise you.”
The wind lifted, a soft white hush. Inside, someone laughed inside the inn.
On the porch, I tried very hard to remember how to breathe.
This was the woman who was in all the celebrity magazine photos I had perused while bored at my desk when working for Dex and she was now giving him a kiss on the cheek while taking his arm in hers.