He groaned inwardly at the seesaw in his mind. “I’m sure.”
“Awesome. You know the rules?”
“Yep.”
Bella placed the dice in the cup and held it out toward him.
“Ladies first.”
A hint of another smile graced her lips before she shook the cup then tipped it. Dice spilled onto the table. Gathering three of them, she dropped the dice into the cup and rolled again. “I can’t help noticing that you don’t sound too happy about owning the inn.”
Was she a mind reader? Or maybe a lawyer. That would explain the fancy getup from earlier and her ability to trick him into spilling his guts. “No. It’s great. Just a lot of pressure.” Pressure he was caving under.
Bella recorded her play on her paper pad and passed him the cup of dice. “So why not sell?”
He scoffed at her casual question. “Yeah, right.”
“Why not?”
Ben shook and rolled the dice, snagging three fours, a six, and a one. He collected the last two and rerolled them. “My family has owned the inn for just about a hundred years. They built it from the ground up. I couldn’t sell it even if I wanted to.”
And some days, he did. He’d never planned to inherit it, had always figured he’d keep working for his dad’s construction company like he’d been doing since he was sixteen. Maybe, eventually, partner with him.
But seven months ago Grandpa died, and Grandma signed over the inn to her eldest grandchild. She’d said it was too much for her “old bones” and that maybe he could infuse new life into the place.
And here he was, leading it toward an early grave.
He knew Grandma had probably just pitied him, was trying to give him something to focus on instead of how he’d been embarrassed and betrayed in front of the entire town two months before that. But he hadn’t had the heart to tell her he wasn’t ready to own a business, especially one he knew next to nothing about.
Bella glanced at his dice. “Four fours. Nice!” Then she looked back at him and shrugged. “Surely your family would understand. It’s your life, after all.” Her eyes caught his, and for a moment his insides buzzed around the edges—a foreign feeling he couldn’t quite define. “This is a beautiful property. You must have received offers at some point.”
He picked up the final dice, tossed it into the cup. It rattled around inside. “A few.”
“Did you consider them?”
He let the dice fly across the table, hoping to see a four. Wouldn’t he end the game by rolling a Yahtzee? It had been a while since he’d played.
A three stared up at him. So close.
Ben sighed. “For about a minute. But I can’t in good faith sell. It’s not just about me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look, this is Walker Beach. My home. I’ve lived here my entire life. Unlike the two idiots who used to own the properties on either side of me, I’m not selling to some money-grubbing real estate developer whose main goal is to ruin my town.”
Bella flinched. And for good reason—he’d practically shouted the words. Oops.
“How would selling your inn ruin the town?” Bella collected the dice off the table. “It’s not like you’re running a vibrant business that’s contributing massively to the economy.”
Wow. “Way to shoot a guy in the heart.”
Bella fumbled the dice onto the floor. “Sorry.” She grimaced. “I shouldn’t have said that. This place, its history, means a lot to you.”
“It does.” And a city girl like her couldn’t possibly get it. “If I sell to the highest bidder, what is a peaceful vacation destination will become overrun with tourists who don’t appreciate what makes Walker Beach special.”
“And what is that?” She straightened in her seat.
“We’re an artsy community with some unique shops and restaurants, but it’s more than that.” He really shouldn’t have to justify himself to this stranger. But for some inexplicable reason, he wanted her to understand. “I guess, for me, it’s just . . . everyone here is family, whether you’re related or not. Folks care about each other and help each other. You can’t find that in the big city or even in every small town you visit.”
Bella leaned forward, hands folded over her stomach, wincing. Once again, he’d let his forceful tone loose. Some gracious host he was turning out to be.
“Sorry. You hit on a sore subject.”
Without either of them officially ending the game, Bella began to put it away. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . . didn’t realize . . .” She looked up at him, cheeks red.
Great. He’d embarrassed her. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not.” The game packed, she closed the pizza box and stood. “Thanks for the pizza and the game, but I’ll leave you in peace now. Good night, Ben.”
Then she turned on her heel and was gone.
Lying back on the couch, he rubbed his face and stared at the stark white popcorn ceiling. Peace? Ha. It seemed like Ben would never find peace again.
Guys failing miserably were bound to live in turmoil.
Chapter 2
It was a gorgeous day.
Too bad that instead of enjoying it, Bella would be doing recon on Ben Baker.
Baker Beach’s warm sand sifted between her toes as she walked south from the inn. Bella’s ears reverberated with the ocean’s roar, her constant companion for the last mile she’d walked from the Iridescent Inn toward town.
The beach south of Ben’s and Moody Development’s properties became part of the six-acre Baker Community Park—a pleasant scene that, at noon on a Saturday, was already crowded with families cooking in the barbecue pits, kids running around in the grassy playground area, and beachgoers lounging with umbrellas and chairs in the sand.
The song from the latest Broadway musical blasted from Bella’s back pocket. Even though she felt more powerful when dressed in her business outfits, Walker Beach required a more casual touch, so today she’d opted for her Lucky white jean shorts and a sleeveless black tunic.
She snatched the phone and checked the caller ID. “Hey, Jess.”
“So, what’s up with this text you sent me yesterday? I can’t believe you’re bailing on our girls’ night.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Like I said, something came up last minute.”
“A work-something or a mom-something?”
“Aren’t they one and the same?” Being Bella’s best friend since grade school meant Jessica Morales knew the ins and outs of Bella’s complicated relationship with Mom.
A beach ball floated toward Bella from a group of teens who’d been hitting it back and forth. “You know I wouldn’t back out of girls’ night for just anything, though.” Using her fist, she bumped the ball back to the teens, who waved to thank her.
“I should hope not.” Her friend’s teasing tone came through the phone.
Bella rolled her eyes. “Please. You’ve missed girls’ night more than once for a hot date.”
“Is that what you have?” Jess’s voice shot up a notch. “A hot date?”