had never been her thing, but she loved the inn and was determined to bring things back on an even keel. With Aunt Lenora getting older and Gavin gone, it was up to her to keep the business afloat. It had been her and Gavin’s dream—to run the B&B, make it their home, raise their children there together and grow old surrounded by its walls.
The inn had a rich history of families who had lived in it—from the time it was first built after the Revolutionary War, surviving the attack by the British on Findlay Roads during the War of 1812, serving as a spot on the Underground Railroad before the Civil War and sheltering generations of families up until the present day. The inn was old, but it was still alive with voices from the past.
Erin ran a hand across the worn, wooden surface of her desk. She couldn’t remember its provenance, but she knew Gavin had told her it had belonged to a great-great-great-someone-or-other. Erin might have preferred to be in the kitchen of the B&B instead of the office, but she loved every square inch of this place.
Her attention shifted from the desk’s surface to its edge as Burke came over and leaned against it.
“It’s past lunchtime. When was the last time you took a break?”
She glanced at the clock and felt a stab of shock. How had it gotten so late? She swept a glance across her desk. And how had she gotten so little accomplished in that amount of time?
“I ate this morning, after the guests did.”
Burke arched an eyebrow. “Wasn’t that at like seven or eight o’clock?”
As if in reply, Erin’s stomach issued an audible growl. Burke laughed.
“I guess that answers that. Come on. It’s time you ate something.”
Erin hesitated. “I have too much to do. I’ll just make a sandwich and eat at my desk.”
“I don’t think so.” His tone was playful but also firm. “You need a break.”
“I’ll be fine,” she hedged.
Burke shook his head. “Erin, you do know you’re not good to any of us if you don’t take care of yourself first, don’t you?”
The words warmed her, a feeling of belonging settling on her spirit. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had tried to take care of her. In the months after Gavin’s death, there had been plenty of phone calls, cards, flowers and visits... But it had been almost two long years since his passing. In that time, everyone else had moved on, even if she still felt stuck in limbo. For so much of her marriage, Gavin had been deployed overseas. There were still some days when she woke up and started her day, not even thinking about the fact that Gavin wasn’t just away—that he was never coming back.
“It’s a beautiful day,” Burke pressed. “Kitt and I packed a picnic lunch, but it’s way too much food for just the two of us.”
She felt the tug of temptation. “What about Aunt Lenora?”
“Kitt and I took her to the community center for the afternoon. Then we ran errands, picked up some stuff for the picnic.”
Erin checked the clock again. Maybe if she stepped away she could clear her head. Although that seemed unlikely given that Burke was a large part of her mental distraction, and here she was, thinking of joining him for a picnic.
“Come on,” Burke coaxed. “I promise it’ll be worth your while.”
She pretended to narrow her eyes with suspicion. “I’m not sure what your game is, Daniels, but I’ll play along.” She pushed back from the desk and ignored a stab of guilt. She was only taking a quick lunch break. She’d make up the hours later tonight, after she put Kitt to bed and prepped the morning’s breakfast.
Besides, she was starving, and she remembered that Burke always packed the most creative picnic baskets. A surge of giddiness swept away any lingering doubts. It had been years since she’d been on a picnic. What could an hour away from the inn hurt?
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