thought it was a damn good thing she didn’t still have the hose. She looked up, saw the woman in the bathrobe leaning lazily on the rail of the second- story porch. Hope flipped through her mental files.
Courtney, middle sister.
“Good morning. That was one of the owners.”
“Yummy.” She smiled sleepily down at Hope. “My ex is tall, dark, and handsome. I guess I’ve got a weakness for the type.”
Hope smiled back. “Who doesn’t?”
“You’ve got that right. Is it okay if I come downstairs in the robe? I don’t think I’ve been this relaxed in six months, and I don’t want it to end.”
“Absolutely. There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen. I’ll be right in to start breakfast.”
Courtney heaved a dreamy sigh. “I love this place.”
So do I, Hope thought as she walked over to put away the hose.
And I feel a lot more relaxed myself, she realized. She’d had an actual conversation with Ryder without either one of them snapping at each other.
All she’d had to do was soak him to the skin first.
Laughing, she walked back into the inn to see to her guest.
CHAPTER FOUR
R YDER GRABBED A DRY, AND REASONABLY CLEAN, T-SHIRT out of his truck, dug out his emergency jeans. He thought getting blasted with a garden hose qualified.
He carted them over to MacT’s.
“Women,” was all he said, and D.A. gave him a look that might be interpreted as male solidarity. They walked into the job music—country on the radio, as he hadn’t been there to switch it to rock—the whirl of drills, the
whoosh, thud
of nail guns.
He walked through the restaurant, past plumbers working in the restrooms, and into the kitchen.
Beckett stood at a prep counter consulting his plans.
“Hey. I thought since we were going down to a single door in here, we should . . .” Beckett glanced up, lifted his brows as Ryder tossed clothes beside the big grill. “Run into a sudden storm?”
With a grunt Ryder bent to unlace his boots. “Innkeeper with a garden hose.”
Beckett’s laugh blasted out as Ryder fought, cursing, with sodden boot laces. “Dude. She hosed you down.”
“Shut up, Beck.”
“What did you do, make another grab?”
“No. I never made a grab in the first place.” Straightening, Ryder pulled off his shirt, tossed it down with a sodden splat.
Standing hip-shot, Beckett grinned. “That’s not what I heard.”
Ryder sent his brother a fulminating stare as he whipped off his belt. “I already told you there wasn’t any grabbing, and it was her idea. Shut up.”
“Man, she
soaked
you. What did you do, chase her around The Courtyard?”
She’d soaked him, all right, right through to the boxers. Since he didn’t carry an extra pair in his truck, he’d go commando.
He stripped down to the skin while Beckett grinned at him.
“If your wife wasn’t pregnant I’d kick your ass.”
“Looks like your ass is the one with the target on it.”
“I don’t need a target to boot yours.” Cautious, Ryder tucked his sensitive parts away before he zipped. “She’s out watering the damn flowers, not watching what she’s doing. Plus, she’s jumpy.”
“Maybe because you jumped her.”
Keeping his eyes on Beckett, Ryder slid on his belt, one slow loop at a time. “Finished yet?”
“I can probably think of more. Put away wet, that sort of thing.”
Ryder shot up both middle fingers as he dragged on his shirt.
“Maybe next time she’ll give you a shave with the shower. Okay, that should do it for now.”
“I set Chad up in the apartments over the bakery, finishing up the lock sets, the switch plates because Owen wants it all pretty before he shows them today. Carolee’s sink’s acting up, so she asks if I can take a look. I’m just walking over from the bakery to the inn to get the key and some goddamn coffee, and she whips around and blasts me. Hits the crotch first, sure, then all the way up.”
“Did she do it on purpose? ’Cause we can wait for Owen. The three of us should
Courtney, middle sister.
“Good morning. That was one of the owners.”
“Yummy.” She smiled sleepily down at Hope. “My ex is tall, dark, and handsome. I guess I’ve got a weakness for the type.”
Hope smiled back. “Who doesn’t?”
“You’ve got that right. Is it okay if I come downstairs in the robe? I don’t think I’ve been this relaxed in six months, and I don’t want it to end.”
“Absolutely. There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen. I’ll be right in to start breakfast.”
Courtney heaved a dreamy sigh. “I love this place.”
So do I, Hope thought as she walked over to put away the hose.
And I feel a lot more relaxed myself, she realized. She’d had an actual conversation with Ryder without either one of them snapping at each other.
All she’d had to do was soak him to the skin first.
Laughing, she walked back into the inn to see to her guest.
CHAPTER FOUR
R YDER GRABBED A DRY, AND REASONABLY CLEAN, T-SHIRT out of his truck, dug out his emergency jeans. He thought getting blasted with a garden hose qualified.
He carted them over to MacT’s.
“Women,” was all he said, and D.A. gave him a look that might be interpreted as male solidarity. They walked into the job music—country on the radio, as he hadn’t been there to switch it to rock—the whirl of drills, the
whoosh, thud
of nail guns.
He walked through the restaurant, past plumbers working in the restrooms, and into the kitchen.
Beckett stood at a prep counter consulting his plans.
“Hey. I thought since we were going down to a single door in here, we should . . .” Beckett glanced up, lifted his brows as Ryder tossed clothes beside the big grill. “Run into a sudden storm?”
With a grunt Ryder bent to unlace his boots. “Innkeeper with a garden hose.”
Beckett’s laugh blasted out as Ryder fought, cursing, with sodden boot laces. “Dude. She hosed you down.”
“Shut up, Beck.”
“What did you do, make another grab?”
“No. I never made a grab in the first place.” Straightening, Ryder pulled off his shirt, tossed it down with a sodden splat.
Standing hip-shot, Beckett grinned. “That’s not what I heard.”
Ryder sent his brother a fulminating stare as he whipped off his belt. “I already told you there wasn’t any grabbing, and it was her idea. Shut up.”
“Man, she
soaked
you. What did you do, chase her around The Courtyard?”
She’d soaked him, all right, right through to the boxers. Since he didn’t carry an extra pair in his truck, he’d go commando.
He stripped down to the skin while Beckett grinned at him.
“If your wife wasn’t pregnant I’d kick your ass.”
“Looks like your ass is the one with the target on it.”
“I don’t need a target to boot yours.” Cautious, Ryder tucked his sensitive parts away before he zipped. “She’s out watering the damn flowers, not watching what she’s doing. Plus, she’s jumpy.”
“Maybe because you jumped her.”
Keeping his eyes on Beckett, Ryder slid on his belt, one slow loop at a time. “Finished yet?”
“I can probably think of more. Put away wet, that sort of thing.”
Ryder shot up both middle fingers as he dragged on his shirt.
“Maybe next time she’ll give you a shave with the shower. Okay, that should do it for now.”
“I set Chad up in the apartments over the bakery, finishing up the lock sets, the switch plates because Owen wants it all pretty before he shows them today. Carolee’s sink’s acting up, so she asks if I can take a look. I’m just walking over from the bakery to the inn to get the key and some goddamn coffee, and she whips around and blasts me. Hits the crotch first, sure, then all the way up.”
“Did she do it on purpose? ’Cause we can wait for Owen. The three of us should
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