Forever Summer - Melody Grace Page 0,77

had arrived.

“Take those upstairs!” Cassie was directing Wes and Luke as they hauled furniture. “And don’t chip the paint job!”

“The leaking tap in suite five is all fixed,” Stella called down from the top of the stairs.

“I have lamps for bedrooms two through five,” Cooper said, his arms full as he came in behind Evie. “Watch your back!”

She jumped aside, taking in the chaos of activity. Jules was up on a stepladder, hanging curtains in the parlor while Luke and Jackson were bringing in a massive dining table. When she wandered through to the kitchen, she found Summer unloading trays of baked goods.

“Cinnamon buns, raspberry and white chocolate scones, gingersnap cookies, and lemon tea cake,” Summer said, pointing in turn. “All frozen and ready to bake. Just stick them in the oven before this Bunny lady wakes up and she’ll never know you weren’t up baking half the night.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you.” Evie was overwhelmed—and not just by Summer’s generosity. “What are you all doing here?”

“Helping, of course,” Brooke replied for her, appearing in the doorway. “You didn’t think we’d let you struggle through alone? I brought linens and towels and a bunch of toiletries from the hotel, too,” she said, setting down a massive box. “They should work for the weekend. And let me know if you like any of it, we get a great deal buying in bulk, I can cut you in.”

“I can’t believe you guys.” Evie was just about ready to cry at their kindness.

“Whoa,” Brooke said, whipping out a pack of Kleenex. “No tears, there’s no time! Go show Cassie how you want things before she lets her imagination run away with her.”

Evie took the tissues and did as she said, coordinating the rest of the furniture placement with Cassie as the guys hauled things in from the delivery trucks. She kept one eye on the door, wondering if Noah would make an appearance, half hoping and half dreading seeing his face again.

Poppy caught her looking. “I didn’t call him,” she said quietly. “I was going to, but then I thought … well, I didn’t know how things stood between you.”

“That makes two of us,” Evie said with a sigh. “But thanks. I’ve probably got enough to be worrying about with the distraction.”

No matter how much her heart ached for that particular blue-eyed distraction.

“Now, what about end tables?” Evie asked brightly, not wanting to bring everyone down when they were all going out of their way for her. “Bunny’s going to need somewhere to put her scones!”

They worked all day, with everyone pitching in through dinner—and five boxes of pizza—until the last rug was down and the final lamp glowed prettily from the corner.

The Beachcomber Inn was officially furnished and ready for guests.

Evie let out a sigh of relief as she looked around at the warm, cozy rooms. “I can’t believe we did it.”

“I know some of this is just a stopgap,” Poppy said admiringly. “But it’s a pretty sweet stopgap.”

“I can’t thank you guys enough,” Evie said, still blown away by everyone’s help. “Any time you want a staycation, let me know.”

“But not until you’ve checked your calendar for paying guests!” Jules piped up. “What?” she protested, when Evie gave her a look. “You’re running a business here. The newest licensed bed and breakfast in Sweetbriar Cove.”

Licensed …

Evie froze. “The permits!” she yelped. “I haven’t filed yet.”

“Uh oh.” The others exchanged looks.

“It’ll be OK, won’t it?” Evie asked, anxiety rising in her chest. “Just some paperwork, right?”

“You better get down to the town hall quick before they close,” Summer advised. “Mr. Gordon can be a stickler about inspections. He gave me hell over the bakery when I opened.”

Evie gulped. That didn’t sound good. “Wish me luck,” she called out, already grabbing her keys and sprinting to the car.

But as it turned out, all the luck in the world was no match for Mr. Gordon, the lanky head of the Permit Department.

“First you need your occupancy permit,” he explained sternly. “Then I need to inspect for the hotel and small inn residency requirements. You’ll also need certification from the fire department that you’re up to code,” he added, plucking more forms from various drawers. “And of course, a permit for food preparation and health standards.”

Evie’s hopes sank. So much for a quick rubber stamp. “I’m not preparing food, not really,” she tried to argue. “Just heating a few things up!”

He looked at her over his spectacles. “It’s a bed and breakfast, is it not?”

“Well