Page 44 of The Inn Dilemma

Holt

“This is a bit different than what I was doing, but hey, it’s going to get done one room at a time,” Nova says before she slips her N95 mask on.

“You don’t need to do this,” I tell her.

“This is going to be fun. Just imagine how we’ll feel once we get each room clean and ready.” Her voice is muffled through the mask.

I can’t help but appreciate her positive attitude. Ever since Aunt Birdie announced the destruction of the Storybook Inn, I couldn’t help but feel defeated. Like we have an endless uphill battle. Nova is looking at this as an uphill journey, almost as if she can see the light at the end of the tunnel before we even enter the trenches.

We made breakfast together at Nova’s cabin, where we also created a game plan to get the inn cleaned up. Aunt Birdie went into town to gather more supplies for our cleaning adventure. Nova and I agreed to work our way from the entrance to the back of the house. My goal is to get one room done a day to not overtax our lungs from the soot or wear ourselves out too quickly.

Nova is in ripped jeans and a paint-stained T-shirt. I’m wearing one of my old flannels. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t choose it based on how Nova looked at me in my wood-splitting flannel. Those charged moments before Aunt Birdie dropped this bombshell on us had me all twisted up inside. I was seconds away from laying my heart out to Nova.

It was easy to ignore the growing attraction when I would only see her a few times a year while I served in the SEALs. Each time I’d come home for a break, she’d get more beautiful, and not just in appearance. I could see her true self break through the mold her parents tried to force her into. I chalked it up to me feeling sentimental and learning how to reconcile who she was as a kid and the woman she was growing into. Now I spend most of my days with her and it has completely uprooted that explanation. I’m falling for Nova Price, and I’m not quite sure what to do with that.

The squeal of wood grinding against wood pulls me back to the moment as Nova attempts to drag one of the tables by herself.

She grunts and I chuckle.

Nova shoots me a playful glare. “Don’t laugh at me, Graves!” She shakes out her limbs. “These are Pilates arms, not lumberjack, superhero arms.” She motions to me, and I can’t help but flex for her. Her cheeks pinken as she rolls her eyes and turns away. “Oh, get over yourself.”

I grip her arms and gently nudge her to the side. “I got this, SuperNova.”

I lift the table easily, carrying it out onto the porch. Nova stays put.

When I meet her back in the entryway, she narrows her eyes at me and places her hands on her slender hips.She blows out a puff of air, making a loose strand of her blonde hair lift into the air and fall back down over her eye.

She mutters, “Show off” under her breath.

We work together, pulling the rest of the furniture out of the entryway onto the porch. Once we get started on the cleaning part, it’s hard to stop. The satisfaction I feel after scrubbing down each wall and seeing how the floors sparkle by the time Nova finishes them is unreal. Once Aunt Birdie gets back, she’ll start cleaning the entryway furniture.

By the time six o’clock rolls around, I am drained and in need of a shower and a substantial meal. We paused for lunch and I scarfed down a sandwich and an apple, but now I need something much heartier.

Nova pulls off her mask as she finishes buffing out the last stain on the floor. As if she can read my mind, she says, “I’ll order takeout from Rico’s and we can all three eat at my place.”

Which is exactly what we do.

Nova made a small salad for each of us, and Aunt Birdie ate her favorite chimichanga from Rico’s while Nova and I split a supreme pizza. By the time seven thirty hits, I feel more than ready for bed.

“Well, I’m going to go get settled in my cabin and prep some breakfast for tomorrow,” Aunt Birdie announces.

“I can come over in the morning to help,” Nova says, putting her hand over her mouth as she appears to fight back a yawn.

Aunt Birdie waves her off. “No need. Tomorrow’s breakfast is going to be easy.”

“I’ll still be over to help at least carry things.”

“Fine. But if you need to sleep in, you sleep in!” She waggles a finger at Nova. “You’ve been working your tail off.”

Nova smiles. “Deal.”

Thankfully, Van was able to get the large white tent we keep for weddings and other outdoor events set up and fixed with a few space heaters for when the weather is cool. Van also scrounged up enough tables to seat all our current guests who are staying at the cabins. Emma knows which cabin to go to once she gets here to finish up breakfast and get set up for the rest of the day. Situations like this make me appreciate Aunt Birdie's dedicated employees.

Nova and I tell Aunt Birdie good night when she heads to the door, and I know I should leave too. But I can’t. Nova insisted I bring Titan and Tootsie into her cabin for dinner. Now they’re both curled up and sleeping in front of the fire looking even cozier and more at home than at my place. I tell myself it’s for their benefit, not mine, that I stay a little longer.

Nova collects the plates, and I help her get the dishes washed up and drying on her dish rack. We work in comfortable silence until she starts humming an old hymn gently to herself. I can’t help the smile that spreads when she looks up and catches me watching her.

“What?”

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