Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
When he smiles, he looks like the lead in one of those Christmassy romance specials, and he’s just as charming as any small-town hunk of handy love too.
Okay.
So I get a little googly-eyed and suddenly start thinking this could be my very own rom-com—the kind where Mr. Fixer Upper sails in and helps save my flailing bed and breakfast from total ruin.
“That’s kind of you.” I smile back.
“We were in the cottage last, trying to get it spruced up and functional so she could rent out the spare rooms again. But I could walk you over to the main building, point out the repairs, and explain the larger items that are gonna need some bigger renovations, if you’d like.”
I nod, biting my lower lip as charmingly as I can.
“Yes, thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
“Do you want to start with the cottage since that’s where we left off? We can start out back.”
“Sure.” I follow him around to the back door, wishing it were winter.
It’s easy to let my brain rabbit away, imagining us walking through the snow, making a snowman over hot cocoa, him in a fisherman sweater and me in fluffy pink mittens. Later, we’d get more cocoa, and he’d wipe a bit of foam off my lips before kissing me, and then—
I shake my head, clearing my throat as he looks around.
“This was a storage building a long time ago. My grandpa converted it when business picked up like fifty years ago. With everything the inn needs, I’m a little surprised she started with the cottage.”
“Oh, yeah. I tried to get her to start with some little things inside that I thought were safety concerns—not just for her guests, but for her own well-being. She stayed on the third floor since she loved that ocean view so much. Honestly, I didn’t think it was safe for a woman that age to be walking those stairs every day. But you know Lottie. If she didn’t like being told, she wouldn’t listen.”
I laugh, despite my heart pulling down.
“That was Gram, all right.”
Ace smiles. “She said the cottage still brought in the most rent with the summer crowd and she wanted it up and running by now. Plus, she was still pushing her morning crew aside and doing most of the cooking and serving herself. Right till the end.”
I’m in a losing battle against stinging tears.
It’s too soon for this.
But I dislodge the knot in my throat and keep walking with him.
By the time we’ve roamed through the cottage and the first floor of the main house, me listening to his long list of recommended fixes, I’ve stopped thinking that this is the start of my happily ever after.
More like a horror movie.
We’re over fifty thousand dollars of renovation in and that doesn’t even touch the crumbling deck and balcony. A lot of that’s just basic repairs to make the three guest bathrooms fully functional.
Good God.
I’m already overwhelmed, and there are still two floors to go.
That business account Gram left me is going to run dry in no time at this rate, and so will my own savings from my old job at Winthrope.
Our next stop is the second floor bathroom. Ace turns the faucet on the porcelain sink.
I gasp at the rusty red liquid oozing out.
So much for a cozy Christmas romance. I’m pretty sure this happened in The Haunting or one of those paranormal movies.
Ace throws me a gentle smile. “It’s just rust. The pipes are old and temperamental. The whole place needs new piping, I’m afraid. I told her, but—”
“She always had her own order to things,” I finish for him.
“Yep. That sink looked like this for a while, and I guess folks never complained in the warmer months when there were other bathrooms and that neat little outdoor shower. I tried to get her to replace the pipes then, but she didn’t want to. I put a temporary fix in, but I’m not sure how long it will hold.”
More great news.
I don’t say anything. Still, my face must show what I’m thinking because he says, “It’s an old building. I know it’s a lot to take on. I do this for a living and the amount of work this place needs is a lot to think about, even for me. You considered selling?”
I tense.
“Dracula didn’t put you up to this, did he?” I ask. Probably a longshot, but who knows how much of the town he’s bribed with his bottomless pockets.
“Dracula?”
I wave a hand. “Never mind. But no, I’m not selling this place. I’m going to take a stab at making this work. I don’t know what to do about all the work just yet, but I’m glad you’re available.”
He shrugs. “We can take it one piece at a time. Start with whatever makes it safer, and we can go from there.”