Page 6 of In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes

“Right.” I winced. This was going to take some getting used to.

She pulled me into another hug. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

I nodded and we parted ways before I drove back to the inn.

* * *

Ten minutes later,I parked and got out of my car.

Forested mountains enclosed the inn, and the yard led down to the ocean. The water stretched out to the horizon, sparkling in the late afternoon sun. Waves crashed on the shore. Above me, blue sky as far as I could see. Katherine always said September was her favorite month here on the west coast.

Nostalgia hit me square in the chest, sad and sweet. Damn, I missed her.

I made my way up the path and onto the porch. It creaked under me and I remembered when I used to lounge out here in the afternoons, painting my nails and reading magazines. Katherine would join me out here sometimes with a design magazine, those big, heavy ones that took ages to flip through, and I’d try to memorize and learn from them.

This porch was where she taught me to paint. It was where I realized I wanted to be an interior designer.

When I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the foyer was quiet and cool. Nostalgia rushed at me as I took in the photographs and paintings on the wall, the side table with a vase and a mirror in front of the door. The inn was more of a bed-and-breakfast, a giant house converted so each of the six guest rooms upstairs had a bathroom.

Floorboards creaked as I wandered down the hall. Downstairs, the sitting room faced the ocean, with the couches arranged for people to watch the sunrise or sunset through the giant windows. Mismatched, old furniture and walls overloaded with frames and paintings gave the inn a homey, eclectic vibe. The dining area was the same, a handful of small tables with a view of the forest.

I had forgotten about the original wood floors, scuffed and scratched but still warm and beautiful. The arched doorway between the dining room and the hallway. The built-in bookshelves in the sitting room. Holden had built those the summer I stayed here.

Irritation pinched my stomach at the memory. I had asked him if he needed help and he told me to go away.

The inn even smelled the same—the mix of cedar, old books, and the lavender-vanilla room spray she used. I heaved in a breath and sighed it out.

When I found the main floor bathroom, I laughed out loud.

Oh my god. These tiles. Dark brown and orange, with a brown sink and laminate counter. Katherinehatedthis bathroom, and I had totally forgotten about it. She had these grand renovation ideas since she bought the place thirty years ago but it was never the right time, there was never enough extra cash, or the tourist season was busy and she didn’t want to disrupt it, so they got pushed and pushed until she got sick, and she stopped talking about renovations altogether.

“You’ll help me redesign the place, won’t you, Sadie?” she had asked a couple summers ago while visiting me. I had just been promoted at the hotel chain where I worked as an interior designer.

“Of course,” I had told her.

I wrinkled my nose at the brown tiles.

In the hallway, I studied Katherine’s photos on the walls, smiling as I recognized faces. There was one of me and her from that summer. There was one of Katherine, Elizabeth, and Elizabeth’s sister, Bea. There was one of the four Rhodes boys. My gaze lingered on serious, silent Holden.

In the photo, he was in his early twenties. The same intense glare I saw all summer, same sharp jawline, broad shoulders, and thick, unruly brown hair. Same piercing gray eyes that made my stomach flutter with anticipation.

A shiver rolled down my back but I shook it off.

Upstairs, I opened the first bedroom door and let out a loud laugh.

“Yikes.”

How could I forget this wallpaper? Pastel pink with thousands of dancing flowers assaulted my eyes. The bed! I clapped a hand over my mouth, smothering my laugh. A colossal, mahogany four-poster bed sucked all the energy out of the room. It looked like something from medieval times, with huge blocky bedside tables and a dresser the size of a church altar.

Even though I knew they were all the same, I wandered from room to room. Now that I had worked as an interior designer for almost seven years, I could see the huge furniture made the room seem smaller and distracted from the fireplace between the windows.

This place had so much potential. Each room had a fireplace with a timeless stone mantle. I could picture this room in a different light, with neutral walls hung with art of photographs, sleek furniture, and a comfy bed with a fluffy white duvet and giant pillows. A chair beside the fireplace to read in during cold evenings.

Each ensuite bathroom was the same brown and orange color palette as downstairs. I winced.

As I wandered down the hall, a funny feeling panged through my chest. I should have visited more. Like with renovations, it was never a good time. I was either in school or working or had used up all my yearly vacation, and Katherine visited me yearly.

Besides, this town was boring. There wasn’t much to do that summer, especially because I had no one to hang out with. Emmett, Wyatt, and Finn were all working during the day, and Holden made sure I knew how unwelcome I was.

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