I think.” At least he seemed to have forgiven her for the garden-selling thing. After Uncle Patrick had seen the marquee, even he had to agree they could make more money renting the land, one wedding at a time.
Not that it was up to him. This was still her inn.
“Just okay?” Ruth tutted. “I was hoping for more.”
“More?”
“Carrie, the bloke is gorgeous! Come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed. And he’s running around helping you save your inn, acting as a waiter, going far beyond his gardener remit… I’m pretty sure he’s not doing all that just because he was fond of Gran.”
“Maybe he’s just trying to get more control over the inn, too. Or at least make sure I don’t sell off his gardens.” Carrie felt guilty the moment she said it. Nate had been working so hard—they all had. And she knew it was just for love of the Avalon Inn.
“Carrie,” Ruth chided. “Come on. I know you’re relationship challenged, but give the guy a chance.”
Carrie bit her lip. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought about it. Hell, how could any woman look at Nate and not? “He’s not going to stay,” she told Ruth. “So even if I was interested, even if I had time, what’s the point?”
“Given your track record you’d be kicking him out in two months anyway,” Ruth pointed out.
“It’s easier that way,” Carrie said, with a shrug.
Ruth reached out, placing a hand on Carrie’s arm. “No. It’s not. You think it’s safer, and I get that. After your mum leaving, and then what happened with Ian… I get it, I do. But neither of them deserved you, simple as that. You just need to find someone who does.”
“And does Graeme deserve you?” Carrie asked. Never mind about her love life; Ruth’s was far more important right now.
“He does,” she said, with a wide, warm smile. “He really, really does.”
“Well, in that case, we’d better go save him from your mother before he changes his mind.”
“Never happen,” Ruth said with what sounded like absolute surety. But she followed Carrie back into the bar all the same.
It was gone midnight before Ruth, Graeme, Patrick and Selena finally retired to their assigned bedrooms, well fed and dosed up on champagne, wine and liquor. If nothing else, Carrie thought, it had given her an insight into how much to order for the bar.
And by tomorrow morning she should have the money to do so. Uncle Patrick had been in no fit state to write any sort of balance cheque by the time his wife dragged him up the stairs to bed. He probably wouldn’t even enjoy the wonderful four-poster he’d been so determined to stay in.
Nate caught up with her at the foot of the stairs, his bow tie hanging loose around his neck and his tuxedo jacket long since abandoned. Carrie stared at the patch of skin revealed by his open collar and tried not to think about all the things Ruth had said. However much she wanted to.
“It went well,” he said, his voice soft. He caught the sleeve of her suit, his fingers warm through the fabric, and a shiver ran through her. “Better than I’d imagined.”
Carrie smiled up at him, resolve gone. “It did, didn’t it?”
“This is going to work.” Nate sounded so sure, so certain, that for a moment Carrie couldn’t help but believe him. “All of it.”
“We’ll see,” she said, ducking her head to try and stop staring. She couldn’t help it. He just looked so damn good in a tux. She couldn’t help but think what he might look like out of it.
“Trust me.” Nate bent down and tucked a finger under her chin, pulling it up again. “You’ve done wonderful things here.”
Carrie felt her shoulders relax and drop as Nate’s other hand came up to wrap around her waist. Maybe he’d kiss her again. Maybe even more… That would certainly help her get off to sleep.
They were silent, leaning against each other in the darkness of the empty lobby. “You all helped,” Carrie said eventually. “I wanted to do it on my own, but...”
“Nancy wanted us to work together, remember? You don’t have to do everything alone,” Nate said, and his voice was so low and wonderfully resonant against her body that Carrie found herself swaying forward closer and closer to him. “We’re far, far better as a team.”
“I’m starting to realize that,” she whispered, captivated by the darkness of his eyes. Whatever she’d told Ruth, right then she didn’t care that he wouldn’t stay. Maybe two months of Nate Green would be worth the risk to her independence—and to her heart.
Nate lowered his head just a little, and Carrie blinked, her gaze shifting to his lips. They really were very close. Almost close enough to…
But then, suddenly, they were pulling away, and Nate was letting go of her waist and saying, “Well, time for you to get to bed.”
Carrie nodded, and held onto the banister for balance as his hand dropped from her arm too. “Guess so,” she said, trying not to sound too disappointed.
Nate smiled, warm and still close enough for her to see the faint lines at the corners of his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. And he was away, through the front door, back to his summerhouse and farther away from her.
Carrie stood at the bottom of the stairs and thought about following him. Except he hadn’t invited her, had he? And she needed to be there in the morning, when her guests came down for breakfast. And she still didn’t know why he hadn’t kissed her. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t done it before.
What had changed, that he didn’t want to do it now?
With a sigh, Carrie turned and made her way up the stairs towards the attic, pausing at the top of the first flight to listen to Uncle Patrick snoring away in Cyb’s old four-poster bed.
She fell asleep in Nancy’s bed, still wondering why Nate hadn’t kissed her.
The thought lingered until the following morning when, after inhaling one of Jacob’s substantial breakfasts, Patrick handed her the balance cheque, and Carrie managed to forget all about Nate Green and his lips for almost half an hour.
“Now, you know the deal,” Uncle Patrick said, and Carrie put on her most attentive face, one hand already on the cheque. “If the wedding goes ahead and all goes smoothly, I’ll invest. If it doesn’t… I’ll be expecting some recompense for the money I’ve outlaid.”
Carrie wished she could argue but, in truth, Uncle Patrick had paid far over the odds for Ruth’s wedding. Only the knowledge that he’d have paid as much to an alternative venue, just to be able to say that he had, salved her independent pride.
With the cheque safely tucked away, and her plan of how to spend it already in place, Carrie waved off her relatives with a sense of relief.
But
