Chapter Three

Alexis:

The biscuits are about to burn. I barely realize it in time and abandon stirring the oatmeal to rush to the oven to pull out the biscuits, cursing that I forgot to set the timer. I’m simply trying to do too much, which led to me forgetting that crucial step. If the biscuits hadn’t started to smell just a little singed, I would’ve had to scrap them entirely. As it is, they look too dark around the edges, but they’ll be fine.

I leave the pan on the kitchen island and return the oatmeal, which is starting to stick to the bottom of the pot. I let out an extremely unladylike string of curses just as the kitchen door that leads outside opens, and Jace steps into the kitchen. I frown at him, wondering why he’s coming in through that door.

A quick look at him reveals the answer. He’s wearing sweatpants, running shoes, and a zipped-up jacket over a T-shirt. “Have you been running in the snow?”

He nods as he unzips the jacket to reveal the T-shirt plastered against his stomach and revealing his six-pack. “Rain or shine—or snow, as the case may be.”

I shake my head. I’m not a runner unless I’m being chased, particularly not through a foot of snow. “You must be crazy.”

He chuckles as he comes closer, his gaze meeting mine. “Do you call all your guests crazy?”

I grin. “Only the ones who insist on running through the snow.”

He sways a bit closer. “What was all the cursing about when I came in?”

“Oh, crap.” That reminds me of the oatmeal, and when I try to stir it, there’s definitely a layer stuck to the bottom. Taking a bowl from the cabinet, I salvage what I can. I only hope today’s guests aren’t oatmeal fans, or we’ll run out far too quickly. It would be inconvenient to make a new pot as well, since I have to soak this one, and it’s the only one big enough to make multiple servings.

“I guess I see what the cursing was about.” He looks around the kitchen, as though considering. His gaze stops on the steam tray of scrambled eggs on the kitchen island, next to the biscuits that are still on the baking sheet. “Do you need some help?”

My stubborn pride wants to tell him no, especially from Jace. The practical side could almost sob with relief. “Yes, please.” In normal circumstances, I’d never let guests help with mundane tasks like this, but Jace isn’t really a guest.

I suppose he is in the sense he’s a paying customer, but he’s also Jamie’s best friend, and I’ve known him all my life. I figure he owes me after the humiliation of prom. “Would you please grab the steam tray of eggs? There’s a steam table out in the breakfast room. I’m sure it’ll be obvious where they’re meant to go.”

He does so, and I follow behind him quickly with the bowl of oatmeal. I’ll come back for the biscuits in a moment.

He sets the eggs on the steam table, wincing a little bit as he drops it in. “That’s hot.”

“It’s meant to be.” I give him a saucy wink, and then realize that could be interpreted as flirting, or even just friendliness. I have no intention of being friends with Jace Wilson, so I force my expression to reveal nothing. “Thank you for your help.”

He frowned, clearly recognizing my dismissal. I expect him to go to his room, but instead, he follows me back into the kitchen. While I retrieve the biscuits and put them on a tray, he picks up the steam tray of gravy that’s awaiting, this time following me into the breakfast room. He sets the gravy into the steam table, and I put the biscuits nearby.

I walk over to the waffle iron, mostly to distract myself from him more than needing to check that I’ve placed the batter into the little paper cups. Everything is in order, so now the guests just have to pour and bake their waffles if they want them. The fruit is already out, and the coffee is brewed. Orange juice is arranged in the mini fridge, in individual portions. Everything is as ready as it will be, and I return to the kitchen.

I don’t realize he follows me to start with until he puts a hand on my shoulder as I sag against the kitchen island. I jerk upright and turn to face him. “You startled me.”

“I just wanted to make sure you don’t need anything else?”

I wave a hand. “I’m fine now. Thank you for your assistance.”

He frowns at me. “We used to be friends, didn’t we, Alexis?”

I blink at the sudden change of conversation. “I don’t think I’d call us friends,” I say with a hint of tartness. “You and Jamie never bothered to hide how exasperating you found my presence.”

He sighs. “We were kids, and so were you. Have I done something to offend you recently? I tried to apologize for being a brat as children yesterday, but that doesn’t seem to be the issue.”

“Apology accepted,” I say coolly. “If you’ll excuse me, I have rooms to clean soon enough.” I can’t do that until the guests have finished in the dining room, to be on hand if they need anything. I’m exhausted just thinking about it, and a yawn overtakes me. I smother it with my hand and look away from him.

“Are you getting any rest at all?” There’s obvious concern in his tone, along with a hint of frustration.

I shrug a shoulder. “As much as I can. I have one employee besides myself, so there’s not a lot of time for luxuries like sleep.”

He touches my shoulder again, and I try to remain still under the casual touch. I don’t want to reveal any reaction, and I can’t believe how my head spins and my stomach tightens with desire just from a simple touch like that.

“Are you having trouble with the B&B?”

That’s not exactly a secret, and I have no problem telling Jace the truth. “Yes. We’re not as booked on a regular basis as I had hoped, so I’ve had to let other employees go. Christmas is sort of make-or-break for me. If I don’t make enough to keep Barb on staff, I’m screwed. I can’t run this place by myself, and I’ll have wasted all my inheritance from Aunt Edna.”

He frowns. “You must be able to do something. If you want, I’d be happy to help you brainstorm.”

I can feel my expression tightening, and it’s obvious from his disappointment that my repudiation of his offer is visible before I even say, “No, thank you.” I sound as stiff as I feel.

With a sigh, he takes a step back. “In that case, I think I’ll head upstairs for a shower.”

I nod at him, waiting until he leaves the kitchen before I deflate slightly. The nerve of him, offering to help me. He helped quite enough in the past, and I freely admit I’m still bitter about the way he forgot all about his promise to dance with me.

It sounds petty, but at the time, I was still crazy in love with him, and it hurt far more that he never followed through with his offer to dance at prom than it did that my date had left early to go drink with his idiot friends.

I know I should let it go, and for the most part, I have. It’s only having him back in my space that has brought back all the unpleasantness. I don’t want to hate Jace, and I’m not sure that I do. I would just prefer to return to a state of not seeing him on a regular basis, and though I know that’ll happen soon enough, it doesn’t feel like fast enough.

I busy myself with cleaning up in the kitchen, including soaking the large stock pot that has oatmeal glued to the bottom. I peek into the breakfast room a few times, occasionally refilling items as needed.

Almost an hour passes before Jace returns, this time entering the breakfast room as a guest rather than an unpaid volunteer. I happen to be bringing out a new bowl of apples and bananas, or otherwise, we wouldn’t interact. I almost literally run into him as I set down the bowl while he turns to the waffle iron. “Sorry,” we both say at the same time.

He nods at me. “The turnout looks a little more manageable now.”

I nod. “The busiest time is usually from seven to eight. There’ll be a few stragglers before or after, but I’ll be able to close the breakfast room at nine-thirty, as usual.”

Next, I have to clean all the rooms again before check-in time. Just the thought exhausts me, and I wish I had time for a nap. Knowing I won’t get to my bed until at least eleven-thirty p.m. makes me even more exhausted when I think about it. At least I have Barb, and she’s already started cleaning.

He shoots me a look of concern as he flips the waffle iron mid-cook. “You look exhausted. Is there some way you can rearrange your workload?”

I laugh at him, though not entirely unkindly. “Sure, I’m positive the guests who spent two hundred bucks per night to stay in my quaint little B&B won’t have any problem with waiting for the various things they request or checking into a room someone else slept in the night before without changing the sheets.”

He scowled. “I didn’t mean to anger you with the suggestion.”

I force my voice to soften slightly. “I appreciate the concern.” Oddly enough, I do, though it feels too little too late from Jace. “It’s just not practical.”

After a moment, he nods. “I understand that. It’s not like the Air Force really allows you to reschedule if something’s inconvenient, or if you feel like having a lie-in.”

I soften a little more toward him, and we share a grin. “I’m sure it would go over well if you called the commanding officer to tell him you’re going to sleep in today.”

He chuckles. “I might have a little more leeway these days though. I’m one of a small group of test pilots, and we’re kind of a big deal.” He says that with an air of affectation that indicates he’s poking fun at himself. “I could basically write my own ticket.”

“That does sound nice.” My heart squeezes with anxiety at the thought of him testing untried planes, and I try to convince myself I really don’t care that much about him. I’d have the same general air of concern for anyone if I heard they had such a dangerous profession.

“I should let you get your breakfast. Thank you for your help earlier.” I make my voice more formal, wanting to put distance between us again. Not just physical distance, but emotional distance. Part of me suspects I could easily fall back into my infatuation with Jace if given just a little encouragement, so I have to make sure I don’t let that happen. The last thing I want to do is be hung up on Jace Wilson again, knowing he’ll just let me down.