Making Room at the Inn Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Praise for Misty Simon’s

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  A word about the author...

  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  Making Room

  at the

  Inn

  by

  Misty Simon

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Making Room at the Inn

  COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Misty Simon

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Champagne Rose Edition, 2014

  Print ISBN 978-1-62830-060-4

  Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-061-1

  Published in the United States of America

  Praise for Misty Simon’s

  WHAT’S LIFE WITHOUT THE SPRINKLES?

  “Ms Simon's writing has warmth, her characters seem like real people, and her plotting drew me in as she wove this amazing story of a platonic friendship that's breaking new ground, but not without some doubts on both sides. Emotions run high among this couple and the interfering family and friends who have a vested interest in their happiness, and Misty Simon approaches the emotional element so well that, in the end, I even felt compassionate towards the self-centered man who left his pregnant teenage girlfriend to fend for herself a decade earlier. Put this one on your TO READ list because you won't be disappointed in this cake with added sprinkles.”

  ~Angie Just Read, The Romance Reviews

  Dedication

  To Daniel,

  who is my sprinkles

  Chapter One

  For what felt like the millionth time, Chelsea Moore belted out a popular kids’ song with her four-year-old daughter singing along in the back seat. She loved her daughter, she did, but even she had her limits on the number of times she could sing the same song without pulling out her hair.

  Thankfully, the inn where they’d be staying for the next eight days was around only one more bend. It couldn’t come soon enough, as far as she was concerned. Though Chelsea was willing to do nearly anything to make her baby girl happy, she had thought Mazzy would at least take a nap during the three-hour car ride. No such luck.

  The late summer sun warmed the earth and brought the smell of home to her nose. No matter how long she’d been gone, there was no mistaking the fertile earth of central Pennsylvania in August.

  As she had been instructed in her final email exchange with the owner of the Barton Inn, she pulled her car around back. Once she parked, she popped the locks on the car and hustled around to release her wiggly daughter from her booster seat. Mazzy had been an angel for the last three hours, but she would definitely need some run-around time.

  “We’re here!” Mazzy yelled, and went straight for the grass, to run and jump and twirl.

  “We’re here,” Chelsea echoed as she turned to survey the packed-to-the-brim back seat. With her hands on her hips, she shook her head. She didn’t even want to think about the trunk, full of all the things they would need over the next week.

  The desire to get down in the grass with her daughter and play nearly overwhelmed her. But there were things to do, and no one else was going to do them. She’d been alone for almost two years and had gotten used to doing for herself.

  “Come on, Pumpkin. We need to get our stuff inside. Then we can play.”

  Mazzy came running at top speed and stopped at the side of the car with a beaming smile. Chelsea’s heart melted, as it always did with the sight of that smile. There were so many things that had gone wrong over the last several years, but Mazzy made it all worth it.

  “I want to carry stuff, Mommy. Let me help!” She stood with her arms straight out in front of her, the eager beaver.

  Chelsea gave her a light grocery bag filled with stuffed animals and sent her on her way. Of course, Mazzy didn’t make it all the way to the door, stopping at the flowers bordering the wide veranda to chase a butterfly back and forth along the railing. Turning toward the filled back seat, Chelsea sighed. Her daughter would be fine for a couple of minutes. They were out in the country, after all, in a small valley that made it seem as if they were the only ones around for miles.

  The trip had been long, and it was going to take time to get everything she’d brought into this palatial home. She would take it one step at a time until she knew what kind of space she was working with. She’d become methodical since her husband had become an ex-husband. One foot in front of the other was the only way she had made it through.

  Her sister, Belinda, was finally getting married to the man she’d been with for years. The original wedding planner, Paige, was one of Chelsea’s best friends from growing up and had been booked a year in advance. But then she had been put on bed rest for the last ten weeks due to her difficult pregnancy. Chelsea hadn’t hesitated when Paige called to ask if she could take over the job. Chelsea’s only other duty during this week of vacation was being maid of honor, so she would be fine. Especially since everything was already very neatly and precisely laid out for the wedding of her sister’s dreams.

  Grabbing the nearest suitcase, Chelsea also hefted her laptop bag onto her shoulder. She bumped the back door of the car closed with her hip, then took a step toward the house and ran into a solid wall that had not been there before.

  Strong hands gripped the bare flesh of her upper arms and made warmth spread from her hairline to her toes. She looked up—and up—into the deep blue eyes of her best friend’s brother. “If it isn’t Jack Barton.”

  “Then who is it?” he asked in a voice that was a lot lower than it had been all those years ago.

  Of course it was lower, she chided herself while she laughed. He was twenty-seven to her twenty-five. Did she expect his voice to still crack every once in a while?

  “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” He held her out at arms’ length, and she fought the urge to squirm under his perusal. “You look good, Chelsea.”

  She was as short as she’d ever been, though curvier than she was in high school. The fluttering in her stomach was unusual and unwarranted, but she smiled, anyway. His stare made her very aware of his skin touching hers, so she bumped up the wattage on her smile, putting the feeling down to nerves rattling around in her stomach from the many things she needed to do over the next eight days.

  “You look good, too. I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve been here. Have you changed much?”

  He laughed, the sound rumbling along her skin. “Yeah, I’d say I’ve changed quite a bit since I last saw you.”

  The pause while her head caught up with his joke was a little embarrassing. “Oh, you’re too funny.” And with his corny joke breaking the tension, she was back on reg
ular footing. “I meant to the inn. Have you changed things here?”

  “To some extent, but the rooms have stayed relatively the same. I put you in the Pembroke Room. Paige reminded me it was always your favorite. Why don’t you hand me your stuff, and we’ll get you settled?” He took the suitcase from her, then looped the strap of her laptop case over his broad shoulder. What had seemed so overwhelming when she held it all looked like nearly nothing in his big hands.

  “Let me grab a few things, and I’ll follow you in.”

  “Why don’t you load me up first? I can carry quite a bit more than this.”

  So she piled him high with bags, looping them around his thick wrist and ignoring the way the glancing touches of his fingers felt like so much more than they really were—accidental brushes that meant nothing.

  What on earth was wrong with her? Maybe it was the country air.

  She pulled more bags from the back seat, amazed she had managed to stow all this in her compact car and hopeful she hadn’t forgotten anything. Of course, if she had forgotten something, she could always prevail on her mother. She didn’t want to start her first vacation home in many years with requests for help, though. There was a rift here with her family she wanted to mend. In her quest to keep her life in Bettleton as smooth as possible, she’d not had a ton of interaction with her family. She hoped to change that with this visit.

  Once she was as loaded down as Jack, she called for Mazzy and began the walk up to the place they would call home for just a little while.

  ****

  Chelsea Moore was back in his house and would be for the next week and a day. It was good to see her and see her happy. The last time they had been together she’d had a smile on her lips but sadness in her eyes. But this was a different Chelsea, one who had aged in the best possible way. He couldn’t help but notice that her dips and curves had only been enhanced in the years since he had seen her last. Though he shouldn’t be noticing that at all, because she was one of his sister’s best friends and therefore had always been off limits.

  “Let’s put everything down in the drawing room. Then we’ll figure out where you want it all. We have plenty of time, so there’s no rush. I’ve made sure you’ll have the whole inn to yourself this week. We had other people try to book, but your sister very explicitly informed me that this week was about her and that included keeping the inn clear of everyone but you. She and Marcus will be here for their first night as a married couple, but until then you have the run of the place.”

  Her gaze tracked beyond him. “Well, me and the munchkin.”

  “Right, the munchkin.” He hadn’t forgotten she had a child; it just had slipped his mind for a moment while he took in all the changes from the very young Chelsea he’d known to this new Chelsea. Her previously long, light brown hair now ended at her shoulders in some sort of swingy hairdo, framing her full cheeks and setting off eyes the color of amber.

  “Mazzy, come here,” she said for the second time, waving to where a little girl was walking through the bed of flowers near the deck railing. He bit back a groan. Hopefully she hadn’t ruined the landscaping. What he knew about plant placement and growth could fit on the back of a bar napkin, and he didn’t want to have to bring the gardener back just yet.

  Mazzy came running at full tilt at them. The way her cinnamon-colored braids flew in the air took him back to a place twenty years ago when Chelsea had looked just like this, with the same slightly upturned nose and round face. She and his sister, Paige, had been inseparable, and so he had also grown up with her, even though they had bugged the hell out of him when they were little.

  “Wow, she looks just like you.”

  “No,” the little girl said with her hands on her hips, coming to an abrupt halt in front of him. “My mommy looks just like me.” She gave him a toothy grin before skipping around her mom fast enough to make him dizzy.

  “She has a lot of energy and a lot of sass.” Chelsea used the palm of her hand to brush the top of Mazzy’s hair as she skipped by again.

  “Sounds like someone I used to know.”

  She laughed, a sound he hadn’t heard in ages. An LOL over email during the course of the last four weeks was nothing like hearing her infectious bell-tone laugh. “I still have the sass. But the energy? Not so much.”

  Those amber eyes sparkled up at him and were joined by a second pair a heartbeat later. Mazzy stood on the front of her mother’s sneakers with her arms wrapped around Chelsea’s waist, swinging back and forth with her face tipped to the midmorning sky.

  “I don’t believe that for a moment.” He took her in from head to toe, admiring the way she filled out the shirt and jeans that gripped her every hill and valley. He tried not to be too obvious. There was, after all, a child standing between them. And the fact that Chelsea had always been off limits. He must remember that last part. “Let’s get inside and set you up.” He walked past the two of them with his hands full and cleared his throat when Mazzy started singing in a voice exactly like one he had heard many times when playing games and running through the woods behind his house.

  Throwing the side door open, he waited for the two beauties to precede him into the house where he and Paige had grown up and where he now made his living.

  It was strange to see Chelsea back here. The two girls had often run roughshod over the place in elementary school, then hung out in various rooms during high school. It wasn’t often he was far away, since his parents had the inn to run and asked him to keep his eye on the two of them.

  When she’d emailed him four weeks ago to say she was taking over the wedding planning for Paige, he’d been enthusiastic to see her again, figuring they’d pick up where they left off with their friendship, like having an old buddy stop in for the weekend. But those curves were shattering that notion, and so was her smile and laugh.

  They hadn’t spoken in years, until his sister had given Chelsea his email address and they’d exchanged information online to keep track of things. A phone call might have been easier, but he preferred a paper trail he could go back to. And now he was almost happy he had gone the email route, because the voice was lower, the cadence sexier, in a way that might just have had him dreaming over the last few weeks. Her body lived up to the promise of that husky voice in ways he would never have dreamed when they were teenagers.

  And Paige would have his head if she had any inkling of where his poor brain was wandering. She’d warned him away from her best friend when he was seventeen, and he had a feeling the sentiment wouldn’t be any different now.

  Well, he’d just have to figure out some way to squash those thoughts, or this was going to be a long week.

  ****

  “Come in, and welcome,” a short, plump redhead said with enthusiasm as she hovered in the hallway. Her gusto was so out there, Chelsea couldn’t help but smile. “I’m Adele, and I’m here to help.”

  “I’m Chelsea. And I’d shake your hand, but I’m afraid I’ll drop something.”

  “I’m Mazzy, and you can shake my hand!”

  With a nod, Adele shook Mazzy’s hand, then turned to Chelsea. “Let me take something, and I’ll show you into the drawing room. We’ll get you set up in no time at all.”

  “I’m actually perfectly balanced right now,” Chelsea answered, laughing. “If you take anything, I’m afraid I’ll drop it all. But if you wouldn’t mind leading the way, that would be great.”

  “As long as you’re sure.” Adele didn’t look sure, but she walked farther into the house without protesting again.

  Chelsea had brief glimpses of the sitting room and highly polished floors as she made her way down the hall behind Adele, Mazzy skipping between and around them. The door to the drawing room was to the right, and Chelsea couldn’t be happier to set down her load. Jack followed close behind with more of her things. There was so much space in this room, her entire kitchen, living room, and dining room would have easily fit into it.

  “You can take over this whole room,”
Jack said, entering behind them. “I don’t plan on having anything in here during this week other than you. We have a more informal parlor across the hallway that I thought we’d use for the get-togethers Paige arranged for everyone before the wedding.”

  Yes, it was all in the stack of folders and notebooks she spied lined up with military precision on a shelf to the right of the spacious desk. She was going to be spending a lot of time with those notebooks. And probably on the phone with Paige.

  “That’ll be great. I think Belinda will like it in there. Plus, it’ll give me a chance to get everything up and running. Are you sure you don’t want me to just use my bedroom, instead? I remember the room you’re giving me, and it’s huge. What about just putting a desk in and letting me hole up there? I hate to take up this entire room with my stuff.”

  One of his dark eyebrows shot up and the right side of his mouth quirked. “I could have sworn I remembered you begging to be allowed to hang in this room when you were younger. I thought I’d give it to you now. And I already have the whole thing set up to the letter of Paige Law.”

  “Thanks, then. I guess I should just graciously accept it and keep my mouth shut.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.” His wide smile was so cheesy she nearly punched him in the arm like old times.

  “Don’t you think you should be nicer to our guest, Boss?” Adele asked.

  “Nah, we’ve known each other too long to deal with the niceties.” The look in his eyes was a teasing one she had forgotten—or had made herself forget when it would have been so easy to go back to the past in her mind, where things were easier.

  “That’s true.” Chelsea scoped out the room. As she turned in a full circle, she took in everything Paige had dragooned Jack into setting up. It was stacked with boxes Chelsea knew were filled with fabrics and all the things Belinda had been collecting over the last year. Once she took everything out and started sorting to her preference, the space would probably be crowded no matter how big it was. “So, speaking of no niceties, why don’t you go haul your rear end out to my car and bring in the rest of the stuff, like a good boy?”