peace and all that.”
The bathroom door slammed again, and the sound made him wince. “Easy on the material, okay? What’s the problem? I was just . . . Oh. I get it.”
Clearing his throat, he pulled off his cool cap, raked his hands through his thick, bark brown hair. “Listen, I wasn’t calling you an asshole. I thought it was Ry. You know my other brother. Ryder? He can be an asshole, you have to admit. And I’m standing in the hallway explaining myself to a ghost.”
The door opened a crack. Cautiously, Owen eased it open. “I’m just going to close the porch doors. We really have to keep them closed.”
He could admit, to himself, that the sound of his own voice echoing in the empty room gave him the jitters. But he shoved the cap in his coat pocket as he moved to the far door, shut it, locked it. When he got to the second door, he saw the lights shining in Avery’s apartment over the restaurant.
He saw her, or a flash of her, move by the window.
The rush of air stilled; the scent of honeysuckle sweetened.
“I’ve smelled you before,” he murmured, still looking out at Avery’s windows. “Beckett says you warned him the night that fucker—sorry for the language—Sam Freemont went after Clare. So thanks for that. They’re getting married—Beck and Clare. You probably know that. He’s been stuck on her most of his life.”
He shut the door now, turned around. “So thanks again.”
The bathroom door stood open now, and he caught his own reflection in the mirror with its curvy iron frame over the vanity.
He could admit to himself that he looked a little wild eyed, and the hair sticking up in tufts from the rake of his fingers added to the spooked image.
Automatically, he shoved his fingers through again to try to calm it down.
“I’m just going through the place, making notes. We’re down to punch-out work, essentially. Not in here though. This is done. I think the crew wanted to finish up this room. Some of them get a little spooked. No offense. So . . . I’m going to finish up and go. See you—or not see you, but . . .”
Whatever, he decided, and backed out of the room.
He spent more than thirty minutes moving from room to room, floor to floor, adding to his notes. A few times the scent of honeysuckle returned, or a door opened.
Her presence—and he couldn’t deny it—seemed benign enough now. But he couldn’t deny the faint sense of relief either as he locked up for the night.
FROST CRUNCHED LIGHTLY under Owen’s boots as he juggled coffee and doughnuts. A half hour before sunrise, he let himself back into the inn, headed straight to the kitchen to set down the box of doughnuts, the tray of take-out coffee, and his briefcase. To brighten the mood, and because it was there, he moved to Reception, switched on the gas logs of the fireplace. Pleased by the heat and light, he stripped off his gloves, folded them into the pockets of his jacket.
Back in the kitchen, he opened his briefcase, took out his clipboard and began to review—again—the agenda for the day. The phone on his belt beeped, signaling the time for the morning meeting.
He’d finished half a glazed doughnut by the time he heard Ryder’s truck pull in.
His brother wore a cap, a thick, scarred work jacket, and his need-more-coffee scowl. Dumbass, Ryder’s dog, padded in, sniffed the air, then looked longingly at the second half of Owen’s doughnut.
Ryder grunted, reached for a cup.
“That’s Beck’s,” Owen told him with barely a glance. “As is clear by the B I wrote on the side.”
Ryder grunted again, took the cup marked R. After one long gulp, he eyed the doughnuts, opted for a jelly-filled.
At the thump of D.A.’s tail, Ryder tossed him a chunk.
“Beck’s late,” Owen commented.
“You’re the one who decided we needed to meet before dawn.” Ryder took a huge bite of doughnut, washed it down with coffee. He hadn’t shaved, so dark stubble covered the hard planes of his face. But his gold-flecked green eyes lost some of their sleepy scowl thanks to the caffeine and sugar.
“Too many interruptions once the crew’s here. I looked around some on my way home last night. You had a good day.”
“Damn straight. We’ll finish punch-out on the third floor this morning. Some trim and crown molding, some lights and those damn heated towel racks still to go in a couple rooms