special,” she said, thinking it really wasn’t special, just a change from her routine to go to a show she wanted to see or Lamont wanted to attend. She had no intention of sounding as if she wanted Josh to ask her out, although she didn’t think there was any chance of that ever happening. He should have no interest in her or a town like Beckett. Not the cosmopolitan Josh Calhoun, head of Calhoun Hotels.
“As for marrying Lamont, that may happen someday. We’re compatible, we’ve known each other forever and Lamont is ideal. He’s grown up here, works here and doesn’t want to leave here. That description fits me also. How many men would feel that way?”
“Have you ever heard the old saying ‘opposites attract’?” Josh asked with a faint smile.
“I’ve heard the saying, but it’s no part of my life. Lamont is the ideal man for me—very plain tastes, will never leave Beckett, tied to his family—which in his case is only his mother and a married aunt and her family. We’re alike, we’ve known each other since we were children and neither of us is in a rush to marry. That’s all I want.”
“You’re damn easy to please. More than any woman I’ve ever known.”
“I’m sure I’m not like women you’ve known,” she said, smiling at him. “I know you can’t imagine such a simple life as Lamont’s or mine, but that’s what I know and like. My mother falls into your ‘opposites attract’ category. My dad was a charmer, a traveling salesman. He was delightful, but oh, so unreliable, and after three kids, he finally left Mom for another woman he met in California. When he did, it broke her heart, and I don’t like to remember that time. It was sad for all of us.”
“That doesn’t mean all men with personalities like your dad’s won’t be faithful or honor their marriage vows.”
“I’m not sure I believe that. I’ve heard he now has his fourth wife. I don’t want someone like that in my life. What about you, Josh? You’re single. I seriously doubt if you’re searching for your opposite,” she said, amused. “You would be bored beyond measure.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he said, smiling with her. “Right now, I’m not at the point where I care to get tied down. You’re already tied down with this inn—that’s 24/7. You work more than I do, and that’s saying something.”
“It doesn’t seem like work,” she said. “I enjoy the people and the job and taking care of the inn. I enjoy my family and Mr. Hickman, Aunt Trudy and Aunt Millie.”
“Well, you’re good at what you do, and I will be forever grateful for getting to stay here.”
“I’d better get moving because lunch will come before you know it.” As she walked away, her back tingled, and she had to fight the urge to glance over her shoulder. She was certain he watched her. But what was he thinking?
* * *
Along with sandwiches that Josh helped her make for lunch, she had a pot of vegetable soup, a salad and choices of chocolate or lemon cake, yogurt or cookies for dessert.
All the time she worked, she couldn’t lose the sharp awareness she had of him. She thought it would diminish as she got accustomed to him being at the inn and working with her, but it didn’t diminish one tiny degree.
Far from it—as she felt a constant, tingling consciousness of him wherever he was or whatever he did.
Through lunch she tried to ignore her fluttering insides. Afterward they sat and talked for an hour over cups of coffee. Then Josh helped her get dinner started, peeling potatoes while she prepared a roast. By the time they cleaned up and sat down with cold drinks, the delicious smell of the roast and potatoes in a slow cooker filled the kitchen.
“You’ve been such a help. I’ll owe you when you leave.”
“No, you won’t. Your inn has been a lifesaver.”
A clock chimed in the hall. “Oh, my word. I need to check the inn’s email account before dinner. They begin to drift down after five for a cocktail,” she said, standing and carrying her glass to the sink.
Turning, she almost bumped into him as he did the same.
“Sorry,” she said, causing him to smile.
“Slow down. I’ll help with serving dinner and with the cocktails. Where do you keep glasses? Do you have a bar?”
“There’s a small bar in the corner of the back room. We were in the living room last night because of the piano, but usually we gather in the back sitting room because it’s the largest. Through that door. I’ll hurry and be in the kitchen in about twenty minutes.”
He set his glass in the sink and caught up with her to head toward his room. They parted at the door, and she rushed on to her entrance. She had spent the day with him, and it had flown by swiftly. She liked being with him, still had the dizzying response to him physically and anticipated with a growing eagerness being with him again soon.
She knew that Josh would disappear from her life, but it had been fun while he was here—because she wasn’t letting herself fall for him.
She showered and dressed in another thick sweater, this time pink. She pulled on jeans and her suede boots and brushed her hair into a fresh ponytail.
With an uncustomary eagerness, Abby went to the kitchen to check on dinner and set the table. Josh was already there in a charcoal sweater, chinos and his Western boots, his straight, short brown hair neatly combed. He hadn’t shaved today, and a faint dark shadow of stubble on his jaw gave him a rugged look and added to his appeal. He was handsome enough that she had to fight the temptation to stare. Once again, Josh was helpful, setting the dining room table without even being asked.
When the first guests came downstairs, Josh left to serve them drinks. She was busy all through dinner and afterward until the kitchen was clean and everything put away. She heard Josh join the guests about five minutes before she did. As she went into the big sitting room, she could see through an open door some of the men playing pool in the billiards room. In the sitting room, some of the little girls sat at a table with crayons and coloring books. Other kids worked a puzzle, while two teens were busy with their phones. She looked at the fire Josh had built before dinner and saw it would soon go out.
Crossing the room to a game table, she stopped beside Josh, who sat playing cards with Mr. Hickman.
“Can I trade places briefly with you and get you to bring in some logs from the woodpile so the fire doesn’t die?”
“Sure,” Josh said, standing. “It’s your turn, Mr. Hickman.”
“I know, I know,” he said without looking up.
She smiled at Josh, who stood only inches away. She hoped he never realized the extent of the reaction she had to his presence. “The woodpile is below the east windows of this room,” she said, pointing. “You can go out through the kitchen. Thanks.”
She slid onto his seat and watched Mr. Hickman. His wrinkled hands were poised on the edge of the board as he studied his cards.
They each played several cards before Josh returned carrying logs. He paused near Abby. “Folks, there is a huge full moon that you can see rising over the horizon if you step outside and look to the east,” he announced, looking around the room. He glanced at Abby.
