Logan grumbled again, but Paul saw him hiding a grin as he donned his shirt. “Thanks, Bon.”
“You’re welcome. Keep it clean.”
“Up to date on your tetanus shots?” Paul asked. “I knew a guy who got tetanus from stepping on a barberry thorn. Nasty.”
Logan shared a look with his sister before answering. “I’m current on all my shots.”
Bonnie changed the subject. “Logan, Paul’s daughter is getting married here in a few weeks. Paul, Logan and his crew will handle all the outdoor preparations for the wedding.”
“We’ve been told you do beautiful set-ups,” Paul said, thinking of Cassie’s raves about the photographs she’d been shown.
Rising from the stool, Logan glanced from Paul to his sister and back again with his dark brows drawn down over narrowed hazel eyes. Still, he spoke cordially enough. “We aim to please.”
Without further elaboration, Logan turned to his sister. “Tomorrow morning Curtis and I will be taking down that fir branch that was broken in the storm last night. I’m going to rope off the area around it, but be sure and tell the guests not to come back beyond the gazebo until we give the all clear.”
“I will. Y’all be careful.”
“Just have to keep Ninja from hiding my pole saw.” Logan gave an upward chin nod to Paul as he headed for the door. “Later.”
Paul frowned when the door closed behind Logan. He glanced at Bonnie. “Looked as though he hurt his leg, too. Did you notice he was limping a little?”
Bonnie busied herself putting away the first aid supplies. “That’s an old limp from surgery on his leg when he was younger. It’s a little more noticeable when he’s tired.”
“I don’t think he likes me.”
“He only just met you,” she pointed out as she squirted disinfectant on the prep island and wiped it with a towel. “Logan takes his time to decide if he likes or dislikes someone.”
Paul remembered her brother’s frown when he’d walked in to find them kissing, of the undertones in the other man’s voice when he’d commented about Paul being the father of a bride. “He probably thinks I’m too old for you.”
“That’s ridiculous. I don’t choose my friends based on age. And you’re not that much older than I am, anyway. It’s not as if you’re old enough to be my father.”
True. But still she was a bit closer to his daughter’s age than to his, Paul thought glum
ly. He didn’t know why it bugged him for Bonnie to refer to him so blithely as her “friend.” They were friends, right? He was quite sure they would remain friendly even after their physical relationship changed, as it inevitably would. Wasn’t that his pattern?
He was becoming grumpy again, he thought, pushing a hand through his hair. He hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night. “So what’s your schedule now? Are you finished for the day?”
She glanced at the clock and he followed her gaze, noting that it was almost nine. “I should check on my guests and then I have a few things to get ready for breakfast in the morning before I can turn in tonight.”
And he was detaining her, he thought, though she would never say so. “I’ll get out of your way. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
She smiled. “Absolutely okay.”
Wrapping his hand at the back of her head, he pulled her toward him and kissed her with a thoroughness meant to leave her thinking about him long after he left. He knew it would certainly torment him.
Darn that alarm!
The nagging buzzer roused her at the usual 5:30 a.m. from a dream filled with teeth-rattling kisses and moan-coaxing caresses. Thoughts of Paul filled her head as she climbed from the bed and showered and dressed, then hovered at the back of her mind while she prepared and served breakfast, checked out departing guests, welcomed new ones, checked on rooms and ordered supplies. A screen print of a horse on a guest’s T-shirt elicited a vision of Paul sitting tall in the saddle. A glimpse of a vacationing couple kissing in the garden made her knees go weak with memories. Folding sheets from the clothes dryer made her think of how hot he’d looked sprawled across her own.
She wasn’t sure she’d had a crush this strong since her sophomore year of college when she’d had a thing for a grad student who’d been working as a teaching assistant in one of her science labs. Every time he’d smiled at her, she’d blushed and trembled, and he’d been well aware of it. He’d romanced her for a heady three weeks, then moved on to the next impressionable teenager. She’d been somewhat disillusioned, but not heartbroken, as she’d figured out rather quickly that he was a player. It wasn’t long after that when Kinley’s selfish jerk of a husband had walked out, after which both Kinley and Bonnie had decided to focus on making futures for themselves as independent, self-sufficient women—just as their mother had done after their father walked out on her. Not that either Bonnie or Kinley had sworn off men; they’d simply decided separately to make sure they could take care of themselves before they tied their futures to anyone else.
So, here she was, exactly where she wanted to be. Standing in the inn’s laundry room folding sheets and daydreaming about rolling on them with the father of one of the inn’s clients. She bit back a sudden bark of wry laughter.
“Something funny?” Rhoda asked, entering with a basket of soiled towels. “Is the dryer telling jokes now?”
“Something like that.” Bonnie set the neatly folded sheet on a shelf. “You can throw those in the washer. It’s empty.”
Rhoda reached for the additive-free detergent they used on the inn linens. “The dishwasher is making that funny sound again. You might get Logan to look at it when he gets a minute.”