Page 5 of All Inn Thyme
“Darlin’, you sound about as southern as I do.” He relaxes when he says this, and his southern drawl is now full-on, like he’s not even trying to hold it back.
His eyes lock on mine, and we stare at each other for a minute, like this is a duel. Finally, he says softly, “Alabama.”
And I whisper, “Mississippi.”
“Howdy, neighbor,” he says, breaking out of our stare down and taking another bite of his food like it’s no big deal, his eyes still flicking back to me in a way that makes me feel comforted instead of fearful. Nothing about Ty screams scary or alarming. Something about how he carries himself is just… calming and peaceful. He’s like a big teddy bear. I bet he gives really good hugs.
It may not be a big deal for him, but I can’t believe I just freely admitted that to him. I have no idea why I even did that, and I feel my ears begin to burn with regret and worry.
“I don’t talk about home too much. This is home now,” I start rambling, trying to steer him back to Freedom Valley.
“Same,” he says. “I like it here.” He focuses on me when he says that, and he doesn’t look away for quite a while. When he finally does, he flashes me that panty-dropping grin again.
As bowls of sourdough garlic bread are passed around, I grab another piece and take a bite of the buttery, rosemary goodness. I close my eyes and try not to moan, it’s so good.
I glance at Allie, who’s watching me with a smirk on her face. She’s enjoying watching me squirm next to Ty and I know she’s going to tease me about it later with Beth. I feel my face get hot and I focus on my bread. “Great bread, Allie. How’s the bakery coming along?”
“Good. I’ll be glad when it finally moves out of my kitchen and officially into the new building in town.”
“I got you covered with fresh herbs,” I offer.
“I’m counting on that. Fresh is always the best. My sourdough loaves with fresh herbs always go fast.”
“Because they’re so good, Ace,” Logan says as he leans over and kisses her on the cheek.
She smiles warmly. “Thanks, babe.”
We enjoy our meal and conversation. Every so often, loud laughter breaks out, and before we know it, we find ourselves still chatting long past when everyone has finished eating—plates pushed back, utensils abandoned, some making room for seconds, nobody feeling lonely or hungry.
Whenever I leave one of these big family dinners at the inn, my heart is happy and my cup is full. It’s like my soul has been recharged.
As Ty gets up to get more food, Logan beams, “Hey, look who’s here!” He’s looking beyond me, toward the doorway. “Preston, my man. There’s still plenty of food left. Grab a plate.”
“Sorry I’m late. Traffic coming up from Boston was a nightmare.” Preston waves at everyone as he heads to the stack of plates at the buffet table.
“Glad you made it,” Evan says, standing to shake his hand. “How long you here for?”
“About a week. Do you have space available?”
“No problem at all.” Evan claps him on the back. “Get yourself some dinner and let’s catch up. Beer?”
“Sure,” Preston replies.
Preston and I have always had a strong friendship, but I think he may like me in a different way than I like him. “Hey, Mel. Save me a spot, will you?” he asks, gesturing to Ty’s empty seat.
I watch Ty slide back into his seat, setting his plate full of seconds on the table. He turns to me, a satisfied smile on his face knowing there isn’t a spot for Preston now. I give Preston an apologetic smile with a shrug before refocusing on Ty next to me.
He did that on purpose, I’m sure of it. What in the world?
2. mellie
Butterflies be damned. I like that man.
It’s latewhen I get back to my room after dinner. I’m curled up on my couch with a steaming mug of tea and the new Bakers Heirloom Seed catalog. It’s full of amazing, colorful vegetables that I can’t wait to try my hand at growing. I know I’ll probably need to keep it simple this year and start with a few things, then add on next year. This year is my practice garden, my time to experiment, trial and error, figuring out what grows best where, what needs more sun, different amendments in the soil. If I mess up, I mess up, but nothing will keep me from dreaming up cool plans for future gardens.
I have big dreams. I may even go full-on farmer and add some chickens, maybe some goats for fresh milk and cheese. My hobby has quickly turned into a new job that I’m lucky Evan and Beth encourage me to pursue. They both see my vision for this and want it to be a success, not just for the inn but for my happiness.
I imagine the possibility of making my own cheeses from goat milk, growing over half of the food for the inn, and raising farm-fresh eggs. Being able to create our own food is magical.
