His arms started to cross behind his back. Then he fig-leafed them instead. He never took compliments well. But Alex was sure that this one mattered to him.
“It was my honor,” he said gruffly.
Alex knew it was his duty to shift the spotlight off the uncomfortable Teague. He gestured at the weapon Cam held so easily. “What’s with the saw?”
“Come around and look. We’re building ice thrones for the King and Queen of Hearts.” Cam waved the saw at the enormous pile of ice blocks. “And if I can piece it together, an igloo out of the leftover bits. Just for fun.”
Two sentences Alex never thought he’d hear put together. But…an igloo did sound like fun. “Who gets the frozen butt from sitting on those things?”
“The high school votes a King and Queen of Hearts. There’s a whole ceremony here, on Valentine’s Day. They’ll use the thrones then. That night, they’ll lead off the dancing.”
“Well, we’ll be sure to come and watch it. Do a deep dive into Chestertown Holidays 101.” Teague had been homecoming king at their high school. Twice. As well as prom king. Everyone liked the star quarterback—go figure. His friend definitely had a soft spot for a crown presentation.
Cam put his oversized work gloves back on over regular ones and wiped away a layer of snow dust from a throne arm. “You’re coming to the dance, right?”
“A high school dance?” That was hilarious. “Are you hard up for chaperones?”
“Nah. It’s a whole-town dance. Over in the Armory. You’re taking Sydney, right?”
Uh, no? Alex scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I didn’t know about it until just now.”
“There’s no way Sydney forgot. The posters for it are up all around the Mercantile. Maybe she thought you wouldn’t want to be stared at by the entire town?”
“More likely that she knows how swamped we are with the renovation. Taking off a whole night for a dance isn’t so much on the schedule.” It proved how tuned in she was to his demanding lists that she wouldn’t have even mentioned it. Which Alex appreciated.
“It’s a good time. The high school band director, the Methodist pastor and I do a jazz band.”
“Are you available for weddings?” he joked.
“Damn straight we are. We jump on any chance to play. And we’re not half bad. You can judge for yourself. And then talk us up to every couple that plans a reception at your inn.”
This was the kind of natural networking Alex liked best. Unforced. Not like the idiotic icebreakers he’d gone through at the monthly meetings back in Pittsburgh with the National Association of Catering Executives. This was…easy.
But an afternoon lifting ice blocks was all they could spare. Or at least, all he’d commit to right now. Because he’d overlooked the option of Sydney maybe not wanting to go to the dance? At all—or with him?
Suddenly it felt very, very high school-esque. Alex clapped Cam on the back. “If Sydney vouches for your talent, that’s good enough for me.”
“Look, you want to be accepted? To get word of mouth pumping in the right direction? Then you’ve gotta leave your property more often. Become a part of the town. Not just a long-term visitor.”
Guess he was as good at dishing out no-nonsense advice as his sister.
“We’re here for good,” Teague assured him in a firm voice. “Putting down roots.”
Huh. Alex hadn’t heard him verbalize it like that before. But after being shunted around the globe at the government’s whim for a decade, yeah, the guy probably craved roots. Maybe even more than the new job the inn provided.
Yes, the to-do lists mattered. Finishing on time mattered. But that wasn’t all it would take to make the inn a success. Alex couldn’t do it alone—as Teague and Amelia had pointed out to him—or by sheer force of will.
He’d need to trust again. To trust this community to embrace his, no, their vision. Not to just let them put a stack of brochures in a wall holder. Alex would need to trust these people to be invested in the inn, to care about it.
Which, oh hey, was exactly why Sydney had sent him down here to pitch in.
Man, she was a good partner for him.
Man, it’d suck when she left.
Cam pointed across the street to a man pumping up a giant inflatable heart. “See that guy? That’s Duncan Wickes. You need to introduce yourself. He approves all the permits.”
“Wickes?” It was a small enough town that the recognition Alex felt couldn’t be a coincidence.