Page 11 of Cupid's Beau

I watch him take the stairs two at a time, all long legs and quiet grace. When I turn back, the Martins are staring at me with obvious curiosity.

Great. Just what we need - guests recognizing him. Though maybe they’re just wondering why I’m standing here holding aglittery paper heart and grinning like an idiot.

I clear my throat and get back to work, definitely not counting the hours until dinner.

* * *

With the Martins settled in and Jack retreated upstairs, my mother drags me to town for even more decorations - apparently the lobby’s transformation into Valentine’s wonderland isn’t quite complete.

“First, the general store,” she announces as we navigate the icy sidewalks. “Then the bakery. And don’t think I didn’t notice how you kept looking at Jack while we were decorating.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Neneh.” She links her arm through mine. “The man spent an hour hanging paper hearts just because I asked. A movie star, hanging paper hearts!”

“He was just being polite.”

“He was being charming. And those eyes, My God! Like something out of a-”

“If you say romance novel, I’m leaving you here.”

She laughs, pulling me toward the storefront. The window display is an explosion of red and pink, which means my mother’s about to go into full overdrive.

I glance up at the cloudy sky. Maybe it’ll snow again. Maybe we’llget snowed in and Jack will have to stay longer and-

“Oh, My God! Neneh, look at this!” my mother yells.

I groan. It’s going to be a long afternoon.

The bell above the door chimes as we enter, and I’m immediately assaulted by the scent of roses and the vision of what seems like every Valentine’s item ever manufactured.

As my mom dives into serious decoration hunting, I wander the aisles, trailing my fingers over displays of cards and chocolates. A rack of romance novels catches my eye - specifically, one with a brooding hero who bears a suspicious resemblance to…

“Don’t even think about it,” I mutter to myself.

“Neneh!” Mrs. Calloway, one of my mother’s friends, calls. “Is that handsome man still at the inn?”

I freeze. “What?”

“Tall? Dark hair? Movie star good looks? Mary saw him on her morning walk.”

“Oh, um…” I shoot my mother a panicked look.

“Just a guest,” my mother says smoothly. “Very private person. You know how city folks are, wanting peace and quiet.”

But Mrs. Calloway’s eyes are gleaming with interest. Shit, by dinner, everyone in Starlight Bay will know Jack Ellis is here.

“Ma,” I whisper as we hurry out of the store with our bags. “This is bad. If word gets out-”

“It’ll be fine,” she replies, but she’s walking faster, too.

As if on cue, my phone buzzes. It’s my childhood friend Amara: GIRL. You have JACK ELLIS at your inn??? THE Jack Ellis???

I show the message to my mother, who has the decency to look concerned.

“We should warn him,” I say. “Before he walks into town for coffee or something, and gets ambushed.”

She nods. “You tell him. I’ll have your dad talk to the townsfolk.”

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