Page 29 of Sleeping with the Frenemy

Victoria

Cabin Twelve was a mess. The roof had leaked last year, and pieces of soggy ceiling littered the hardwood in the living room.

I was supposed to be cleaning it up.

Instead, I sat on the dusty sofa, an open accounting textbook on my lap.

I probably should have been studying.

I wasn’t doing that, either.

The wind gusted outside, making the cabin groan in protest. I shivered and looked at the door. It had been twenty-two hours since I left Chase at the Valenti Hotel.

Not that I was counting.

Except where was he? He promised to stop by. Yet the sun was already going down, and it was past dinnertime.

Right on cue, my stomach rumbled. Normally, I ran out for lunch when I stayed at the lodge. Dealing with the temperamental ovens in the cabins was too much of a pain in the ass. But I skipped my usual routine today. I wasn’t that hungry.

And the roads were snow-covered.

Plus, I had a ton of work to do.

My stomach let out a long, mournful growl.

Oh, who was I kidding. I was waiting for Chase.

Sighing, I set my book aside and stood. As soon as I did, there was a sharp but fleeting twinge between my thighs—a reminder of how I spent yesterday. My cheeks heated. At the same time, my nipples went hard.

Good grief.He wasn’t even around, and my body was responding to him.

I bit my lip. He wasn’t around.

What if he didn’t come back?

I went to the kitchenette and got a bottled water from the ancient fridge. As I headed back to the living room, my gaze fell on the pieces of ceiling that littered the floor. Buckets were scattered here and there, and the whole cabin was filled with the sound of water plip-plopping. I stopped in the center of the room, the cold bottle dangling from my hand.

Was this what I rejected Chase for? There was no way I could fix the ceiling. Every cabin needed a new roof—and plumbing and electrical and air conditioning and new furniture. Even if I somehow managed to make all of those things happen, people didn’t want to stay in a motor lodge anymore. Yes, the lodge was important to Nana, but was it worth my happiness? I’d tied my childhood memories to the business, but it felt more like an anchor around my neck.

Drowning me.

A loud knock rang out.

My heart jumped into my throat. I rushed to the door and threw it open.

“Chase, I—” I snapped my mouth shut.

A short, balding man in a black puffer jacket stood on the porch holding a large, white envelope in his hands. Between the jacket, envelope, and swirling snow, he had the look of an oversize penguin.

I realized I was staring and quickly collected myself. “I’m sorry. We’re not currently accommodating guests.”

“Oh, I’m not here for that,” he said. “Are you Victoria Parker?”

“Yes.” My gaze dipped to the envelope. Another lien? Maybe a lawsuit this time. He was probably a process server. I braced myself for the worst.

“Ah, perfect.” He smiled and waggled his envelope a bit. “I’m from the Berks County Historical Society. I have your official historical landmark paperwork here.”

I stared at the envelope. Then him. Then the envelope. “I’m sorry, what?”

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