think it’s even better.”
“Well, this stop-by’s going to cost me more than the price of sinful coffee.” Justine arched her brows at the sound of the back door slamming.
“Sam Freemont, expressing his annoyance. And the coffee’s on the house, in gratitude for you bringing the end to his pestering me to go to dinner at the club.”
“Sam Freemont’s a little prick who grew up to be a bigger one.” Carolee’s pretty hazel eyes turned hard. “Remember, Justine, how he spread rumors about my Darla? He was after her to go to the prom, and when ‘no’ didn’t work, she finally told him to get lost.”
“Or words to that effect,” Justine added, and made her sister smile fiercely.
“That’s my girl. So, he spread it around she was pregnant, and didn’t know who the father was.”
“And Ryder kicked his ass. Not that he’d ever admit it,” Justine continued, “and my other boys kept the brothers’ vow of silence. But I knew, and I bought him this CD player he’d been saving up for. So he knew I knew.”
“They’ve got Riley blood, and Rileys take care of their own. Montgomerys, too.” Carolee jabbed a finger in the air. “It’s how that Freemont boy was raised. Spoiled rotten. His mother’s the worst—never could stand that woman—but his father’s just as bad for going along. Anything he wanted, anytime he wanted. And he just lorded it over everybody.”
“She got what she deserved, didn’t she?” Justine shrugged. “A big prick for a son.”
Clare smiled as she started the grinder. Justine Montgomery was exactly what Clare wanted to be when she grew up. Smart, strong, self-aware, an excellent and beloved mother to her sons. An attractive woman with her dark hair scooped up in a sassy tail, the body she kept in excellent shape clad in casual but stylish capris and a thin white shirt.
Carolee, who had stood up to browse with her sister, was pale gold, nearly as tall, delicate in build.
They were bonded like glue, Clare knew.
Justine walked over, set two books on the counter. “You know, honey, Ryder—any of them—would warn Sam off if you said the word.”
“Thanks, really, but I can handle him.”
“Just keep that in your back pocket. So Owen tells me you and Avery may have a prospect for innkeeper now that Karen’s buying baby booties.”
“Hope would be amazing. I think the place deserves someone as talented as she is. I only really got the sense of one room—Beckett filled us in on Titania and Oberon this morning. But oh, I’m in love. I can really picture it.”
“You and Avery both have good heads on your shoulders, so your recommendation’s something I take seriously. That place.” She stepped over to look out the glass in the front door. “It’s got my heart now. Ours—doesn’t it, Carolee?”
“I’ve never had so much fun in my life. Helping to pick out everything from four-poster beds to soap dishes. We’re going to have a smell contest next week.”
Clare paused as she added whipped cream to the iced coffee. “Sorry?”
“Scents,” Justine explained with a laugh. “You put us on to Joanie—Cedar Ridge Soaps.”
“Oh, she’s great, isn’t she? She did tell me she was going to do your amenities, all locally made. I think that’s such a wonderful idea.”
“With each room having its own signature scent.”
“Now that’s a fabulous idea. Soaps, shampoos, lotion. Have you thought of doing diffusers?”
Justine narrowed her eyes. “Not until right this minute. Can she do those?”
“She can. I use them at home.”
“Carolee—”
“I’m writing it down.”
“That does look sinful.” Justine took both cups, carried one to her sister. Have you got a minute, Clare?”
“Of course.”
“I wanted to talk to you about The Library. We’re going to hit the used bookstore for the bulk, I think, but I want to mix in some new. I want romance novels, thrillers, mysteries. The kind of thing somebody might like to read on a rainy
“Well, this stop-by’s going to cost me more than the price of sinful coffee.” Justine arched her brows at the sound of the back door slamming.
“Sam Freemont, expressing his annoyance. And the coffee’s on the house, in gratitude for you bringing the end to his pestering me to go to dinner at the club.”
“Sam Freemont’s a little prick who grew up to be a bigger one.” Carolee’s pretty hazel eyes turned hard. “Remember, Justine, how he spread rumors about my Darla? He was after her to go to the prom, and when ‘no’ didn’t work, she finally told him to get lost.”
“Or words to that effect,” Justine added, and made her sister smile fiercely.
“That’s my girl. So, he spread it around she was pregnant, and didn’t know who the father was.”
“And Ryder kicked his ass. Not that he’d ever admit it,” Justine continued, “and my other boys kept the brothers’ vow of silence. But I knew, and I bought him this CD player he’d been saving up for. So he knew I knew.”
“They’ve got Riley blood, and Rileys take care of their own. Montgomerys, too.” Carolee jabbed a finger in the air. “It’s how that Freemont boy was raised. Spoiled rotten. His mother’s the worst—never could stand that woman—but his father’s just as bad for going along. Anything he wanted, anytime he wanted. And he just lorded it over everybody.”
“She got what she deserved, didn’t she?” Justine shrugged. “A big prick for a son.”
Clare smiled as she started the grinder. Justine Montgomery was exactly what Clare wanted to be when she grew up. Smart, strong, self-aware, an excellent and beloved mother to her sons. An attractive woman with her dark hair scooped up in a sassy tail, the body she kept in excellent shape clad in casual but stylish capris and a thin white shirt.
Carolee, who had stood up to browse with her sister, was pale gold, nearly as tall, delicate in build.
They were bonded like glue, Clare knew.
Justine walked over, set two books on the counter. “You know, honey, Ryder—any of them—would warn Sam off if you said the word.”
“Thanks, really, but I can handle him.”
“Just keep that in your back pocket. So Owen tells me you and Avery may have a prospect for innkeeper now that Karen’s buying baby booties.”
“Hope would be amazing. I think the place deserves someone as talented as she is. I only really got the sense of one room—Beckett filled us in on Titania and Oberon this morning. But oh, I’m in love. I can really picture it.”
“You and Avery both have good heads on your shoulders, so your recommendation’s something I take seriously. That place.” She stepped over to look out the glass in the front door. “It’s got my heart now. Ours—doesn’t it, Carolee?”
“I’ve never had so much fun in my life. Helping to pick out everything from four-poster beds to soap dishes. We’re going to have a smell contest next week.”
Clare paused as she added whipped cream to the iced coffee. “Sorry?”
“Scents,” Justine explained with a laugh. “You put us on to Joanie—Cedar Ridge Soaps.”
“Oh, she’s great, isn’t she? She did tell me she was going to do your amenities, all locally made. I think that’s such a wonderful idea.”
“With each room having its own signature scent.”
“Now that’s a fabulous idea. Soaps, shampoos, lotion. Have you thought of doing diffusers?”
Justine narrowed her eyes. “Not until right this minute. Can she do those?”
“She can. I use them at home.”
“Carolee—”
“I’m writing it down.”
“That does look sinful.” Justine took both cups, carried one to her sister. Have you got a minute, Clare?”
“Of course.”
“I wanted to talk to you about The Library. We’re going to hit the used bookstore for the bulk, I think, but I want to mix in some new. I want romance novels, thrillers, mysteries. The kind of thing somebody might like to read on a rainy
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