Page 40 of The Inn Dilemma

“It’s so cozy here,” I say with sincerity.

Holt grunts in response, and I roll my eyes, mumbling, “Of course you believe in Bigfoot; you act like you’ve been raised by them.”

“What was that?” Holt asks. It, like the rest of the cabin, is rustic. He’s popping old-fashioned popcorn on top of the gas stove. Thepop pop popof the corn fills the otherwise silent cabin.

There’s no need to sugarcoat anything with Holt, so I answer honestly. “I said I shouldn’t be surprised you believe in Bigfoot since you act as if you were raised by them.”

I can see him fighting a smile beneath his three-day scruff as he shuffles the kernels around in the pan.

“Can I help with anything?” I ask, jumping down from the counter and coming to stand beside him.

“Nope, everything is already set up.”

I raise my brow and cross my arms over my chest. His good eye travels down my form, and I’m confused by the warmth I feel at the appreciation I see in his gaze.

“Why don’t you put on something more comfortable?” He motions to my dress.

“Sure,” I say awkwardly. “I’ll just pop over to my cabin and grab?—”

“I have stuff here.” Turning off the stove, he motions for me to follow him to a bedroom. I stand outside the door while Holt pulls a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt out of the laundry basket of folded clothes sitting on a chair.

“Okay,” I squeak, feeling shy all of a sudden.

He smiles at me, then says, “Come outside when you’re ready.”

“Outside?” I tilt my head, reminding myself of Tootsie and Titan when they look confused.

“Yeah.” He gently pushes me into the room, then closes the door behind him. “Come to the back deck when you’re all done.” His words are muffled from behind the closed door.

I change as quickly as I can into the gray sweatpants and long sleeve T-shirt he laid out on his bed. There is no reason for me to not just walk over to my cabin and putmy own clothes on, but these smell like him and are more cozy than any of mine. So instead of questioning Holt’s suggestion, I enjoy the feel of the soft cotton against my skin and Holt’s comforting scent wrapped into each fiber of these clothes. I roll up the shirt sleeves and hem of the sweatpants before making my way to the back of his house and stepping through the sliding glass doors. A gasp escapes my lips at the sight before me.

I do a spin, slowly taking in everything he’s done. There are twinkle lights twined through the slats of his pergola, two lounge chairs covered with blankets, and a table in between them holding two bowls of popcorn and two glasses of sweet tea. Against the house is a white sheet set up as a projector screen.

“You did all of this for me?” Playfully, I place my hands on my waist and pop a hip. “Or am I infringing on a hot date you had planned with another girl?”

I’m only joking, but Holt’s Adam’s apple bobs, and any playfulness I was feeling fades away. Maybe he did cancel a date with another girl just to make me feel better.

“Shoot, is that what happened? Don’t cancel your plans for me.” I tug up my pant legs and head back toward the door.

“Nova, stop!”

I turn and face him. His stormy expression takes my breath away. “I did all of this for you. I’m not dating anyone or remotely interested in anyone el—” He clears his throat.

“Oh,” I whisper. “That’s good. I’m sure if you were, she wouldn’t be too happy with this arrangement.”

“Exactly. My woman would know I’m all hers.” His good eye searches mine intently as if there’s a deeper meaning or maybe even a promise in his words, but Idon’t allow myself to dwell on them. I am on a necessary dating sabbatical and even if I wasn’t, Holt deserves someone better than me. A girl with less baggage.

Nodding, I say, “That’s good. Jealousy is never a healthy emotion to have active in a relationship.” That reminds me of why I texted him in the first place. I try to push away the charged atmosphere surrounding us to focus on the problem at hand. “Speaking of…”

All the previous heat in his expression is replaced with concern. “What happened with your dad?” He motions for me to take a seat, so I do. Holt follows suit.

I dive in and give him the play by play of what happened, beginning with my arrival at Dad’s office and ending with Dad storming out of the restaurant.

Holt is silent for a long pause, then says, “Chris had a suspicion your mom was cheating. He just never knew for sure.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know if they’ve fully infringed on an affair, but…” I grimace. “They looked pretty cozy tucked into a private corner. At a minimum, there’s definitely emotional cheating.” I clench my jaw.

He reaches across the distance between us and takes my hand in his. “I’m sorry. No matter how it’s progressed, none of it is easy.”

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