“Not me,” Poppy replied. “It’s for one of our guests, Geena Bellamy. She’s printing a load of legal-looking documents. If she keeps this up, we should charge her. Though I wouldn’t mind if she were at least nice about it.”
Ivy narrowed her eyes. “We’re not a copy center—that’s merely a limited service for guests. I’ll speak to her when I see her.”
After checking in the day’s guests, Ivy and Poppy set up for the late afternoon event in the music room. Celia, a friend who underwrote the music program at the school, brought in a talented young pianist to play, and everyone gathered for a glass of wine or a cup of tea before going out for the evening.
Yet, there was still no sign of Shelly.
Resigned to do without her sister, Ivy plugged in the electric tea kettle while Poppy arranged wine glasses. It was a casual, self-serve affair that guests enjoyed. After setting up, Ivy and Poppy went to the kitchen to make a grocery list for the coming week.
A voice rang out.
“The cookie man has arrived,” Mitch said as he strolled into the kitchen holding a pastry carton that smelled of sweet spices. He looked like he’d just returned from the beach. His spiky blond hair stuck out at all angles, framing a sun-reddened face, and he wore an old T-shirt and flip-flops.
“What are we serving today?” Ivy asked.
He flipped open the lid of the carton. “Oatmeal raisin and s’mores cookies with chocolate and marshmallows and graham crackers—all fresh from the oven. Who wants one?”
“Yes, please,” Poppy said. She reached inside for a s’mores cookie.
“I won’t say no to the oatmeal raisin,” Ivy said. “Although I should.”
“You’ve got to live a little every day,” Mitch said with a quirky grin. “Did my team at Java Beach take good care of you while Shells and I were away?”
“They did,” Ivy replied, selecting a cookie. “I heard you had a good trip.”
“The absolute best.” Youthful exuberance lit his face. “Shelly is amazing, and it’s so cool to have a real family now. Hey, I’m actually related to you and Poppy now.”
Ivy laughed. “By marriage.”
“I’m one lucky guy.” He glanced around. “Where’s Shelly?”
“She’s not here yet,” Ivy said. “I saw her earlier, and I’m a little worried about her. She said she hasn’t been feeling very well.”
“It’s probably a case of Montezuma’s Revenge,” Mitch said, making a face. “Guess I’ve got a stomach of steel. Poor Shells.”
“You’ll let me know if I can do anything for her?”
“Sure. I think she’ll be okay, though.”
Ivy pressed her lips together, refraining from comment. Shelly and Mitch were a couple now, and it was clear they didn’t need Ivy hovering around playing concerned older sister. They were certainly adults and had a new life to embrace.
Or was Shelly taking advantage of that? It wouldn’t be the first time.
Ivy took a bite of the cookie. “These are delicious,” she said, savoring the warm oatmeal and raisins with a hint of cinnamon.
Just then, the back door banged open.
Shelly rushed in with a self-conscious grin on her face. “Late again, right?” She paused to kiss Mitch. “Hi, babes.”
Shelly didn’t look like she was feeling bad. In fact, Ivy thought she looked bright and well rested. “Did you have your nap?”
“I really needed it,” Shelly said. “Except I’ll probably be up half the night again.”
“That’s cool,” Mitch said. “We can meet my friends in the village. They’re playing at Spirits & Vine tonight. It’s hot jazz night.”
“Cool,” Shelly said, darting a glance toward Ivy.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Ivy said evenly. Maybe Shelly had made a miraculous recovery. Still, she resolved to have another talk with Shelly. In private.
Footsteps sounded on the stairway, and Ivy put the grocery list aside. Guests were gathering in the music room, and Bennett would return from City Hall soon. They had a routine, and Shelly knew it as well as anyone.
“I’ll go see to the guests,” Poppy said, glancing between them and quickly making herself scarce.
“Thanks,” Ivy said. “Time to be a host,” she added, casting a look at Shelly as she pushed through the kitchen door.
“Be right there,” Shelly called after her.
Guests might have arrived as strangers in the music room, but Ivy made sure that people met and left as friends. They’d even had one couple who met and began dating at the inn over the holidays. After the gathering, guests filtered out to restaurants in Summer Beach.
Ivy collected the dirty dishes and glassware left behind. Although Shelly had arrived, she’d also disappeared too shortly after the event began. Ivy didn’t know whether her sister was sick or simply disinterested, but she was trying her patience.
If Shelly no longer wanted to work at the inn, they would have to have that conversation. Ivy didn’t want to feel like she had to monitor her—they had been partners before. All in together toward a goal. She missed that.
In the kitchen, Bennett had stationed himself at the sink. “Since you’re short-handed, I’ll whip those dishes out in no time,” he said, filling the sink with sudsy water.
“You’ve noticed, too,” Ivy said.
“Hard not to. But I’m sure Shelly will come around soon.”
Ivy stacked up the dishes. “Wish we had a dishwasher,” she said. The house had never had one. Unfortunately, that was nowhere near the top of Ivy’s lengthy to-do list.
“You’ve got me,” Bennett said, grinning.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” Having a partner made all the difference. She picked up a dish towel. “I’ll dry. And I don’t expect you to step into Shelly’s position.” Ivy didn’t like feeling this way about Shelly, but she needed help.
Bennett grabbed one end of the towel and drew her toward him, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Have I told you how much I love you today?”
As he tucked his arms around her, Ivy looped the towel around his neck. “Not since breakfast.” Gazing into his warm hazel eyes almost made her forget about Shelly—and her hesitation about their relationship.
In his embrace, she felt safe and loved—and a little guilty for thinking that might not be enough. Bennett was everything she could want in a man.
But what she wanted was to be certain. No mistakes. Not at her age. Besides, their marriage wasn’t legal yet. Blessed, but not legal. Left hanging—that’s how she felt.
“I’m all yours, sweetheart,” Bennett said, his voice husky with emotion. He covered her hand with his and swept it over his heart. “You have all my love.”
Under her palm, his heart beat with surprising intensity. Ivy splayed her hands against his firm chest. She noticed the way other women looked at him. Single women, guests, tourists—even the new guest, Geena Bellamy—a surly, unpleasant young woman even this evening—had eyed him from across the music room. For the most part, he seemed unaware of the attention. Or maybe he was used to it.