Amber Williams - A Place with Briar

Maybe he’d gone soft since turning in his badge because he couldn’t motivate himself to invade her privacy—not after the scare she’d had tonight in the tavern.

But she was okay—probably sleeping. Turning on his side to force his attention away from the ceiling—and Briar somewhere on the other side of that white, orange-peel expanse—he tried not to dwell on the fact that concussion victims could slip into comas if they fell asleep. No, she was fine. It was time to do what he was here to do.

Driving a fist into his pillow, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stepped lightly to the floor of his suite, careful not to wake the creaky, old footboards beneath him. As he turned the knob of the door, he ignored the knot in the back of his throat and how bad he felt about what he was going to do next.

Gavin, he remembered. All he had to do was think about his son. He pulled the door open and stepped out into the dark hall.

No sooner had he moved onto the landing than he heard the creak of the stairs in front of him.

He bit back a curse. No time to step back into his room and erase his tracks. The top of Olivia’s head came into view and he gripped the banister in as casual a stance as he could manage.

Damn, why hadn’t he heard her come in? He was going soft.

“Cole,” she said, surprised as she made it to the landing. “You’re up late.”

“I heard you come in,” he lied. Clearing his throat, he jerked his thumb toward the stairs that led to Briar’s rooms. “I just wanted you to know I saw her to bed. She seemed fine, but I’m glad you’re checking on her.”

She smiled at him. “You’re worried. That’s so sweet.”

He was worried about her. No acting involved there. “I guess,” he said for lack of anything better. “Anyhow...” He pushed off the banister and backed toward the door of the bay-view suite. “I’ll let you go on up.”

Olivia patted his arm as she passed him. “Thanks again, Cole—for everything. You’re a real hero.”

Disguising the knee-jerk, disagreeable sound in his throat with a chuckle, he opened the door and walked back into his room. Frowning at the bed, he balled his hands into fists again.

Sleep wouldn’t come as easily tonight as it had previously in the suite’s bed. He consoled himself with the thought that tomorrow... Yes, tomorrow he would find a way into Briar’s filing system. Then this foul errand, which he already felt tangled in from the neck down, would be over and he could get as far away from Briar Browning as possible.

* * *

TWO DAYS LATER, Briar beamed as she hung up the phone in the inn entryway. It was just past 10:00 a.m. and already she had two families booked for the week. Her sigh wavered with relief, and she felt elated.

Guests meant she was another foothold closer to rising above the treacherous cliff she and the inn were dangling over. It hadn’t occurred to her that at some point she’d begun to look forward to bookings because some part of her still enjoyed preparing for them. As she made her notes on how to prep for each family’s specific needs, the urge to get back to work and arrange for a full house was strong enough to make her tap her foot against the side of the check-in podium.

The dull headache that had followed the run-in with one of Olivia’s tavern chairs was down to a subtle throb, easily masked by a small dose of painkillers.

With two cups of coffee in her system already, plus the last-minute reservations filling the days of the guest calendar in front of her, Briar’s disposition went from cheerful to downright sunny for the first time in weeks.

Lunch. It would be lunchtime soon and Cole would likely be roaring back on that Harley of his. Touching a hand to the center of her chest, her smile faded a bit. Since the night he had gallantly carried her up to bed, even casual thoughts of him were accompanied by the flutter of her heart.

Scrubbing the heel of her hand against her sternum, she closed the guest book and walked to the kitchen. There was no room in her life for feelings like this. Especially since Cole was a temporary fixture in her life. Less than a fixture actually, because for the past couple days she’d seen very little of him.

“Roxie,” she said, turning around as the door to the kitchen swung open. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Roxie lifted a shoulder. “I had some spare time and thought I’d drop by. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Have a seat—help yourself to some coffee.” Briar went to the sink to busy her hands. She pushed her sleeves up and began to rinse the tomatoes that waited in a basket on the counter. “Roxie, I should apologize for the way I acted the other night in the tavern. There’s no excuse for being rude to you and your fiancé.”

“You weren’t rude at all,” Roxie assured her as she joined Briar at the sink. Her eyes widened as she reached over to pick up one of the tomatoes. “These are bigger than my mother’s. You should sell them.”

“I would if I didn’t use them all for cooking,” Briar explained. “They get bigger each year. Soon I won’t be able to get them through the door.”

“That’s when you enter them in the county fair and win prizes,” Roxie advised. Her warm grin faded after a moment and she put a hand on Briar’s arm. “Olivia told me that you’re uncomfortable with me knowing about the inn’s troubles.”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, I think it is something.” Roxie read her well. “And it’s worrying you a great deal. I wasn’t painting pictures when I said I want to help. I can pay more on the lease if you need me to.”

“No,” Briar said, shutting off the water and drying her hands. “I already charge you girls enough. It’s just...this was my mother’s place. She’s gone and Hanna’s has to continue running, no matter what.” She gestured to the table. “If you’re not in a hurry, I have some leftover biscuits from breakfast if you want some.”

“Sure,” Roxie said. “Olivia and Adrian rave about your cooking.”

“A year and a half of cooking school,” she explained. “Anyway, I want to hear more about the boutique. How’s it coming along?”

“Wonderfully—quicker than I anticipated. I’m just thrilled with how things are progressing.”

“Have you mentioned the package deal to the others?” Briar asked.

“Oh, yes. Adrian jumped on it and had a proposal and spreadsheets lined up for me the next morning. Olivia seemed happy about the veranda being put to good use. We just need to iron out the details and we can start marketing it as soon as I open Belle Brides for business.”

Through the screen door, the sound of an uninhibited engine poured loudly through the quiet of the inn. Roxie’s eyes widened in glee. “Ooo, I was hoping I’d get to meet your tavern hero.”

Briar frowned. “He’s been gone most of the morning. Most of yesterday, as well. I guess he’s come back for lunch.” Her heart did that inconvenient jump when the kitchen door opened and Cole walked in, his brow wet and the front of his plain white T-shirt damp from perspiration. As he glanced around the kitchen, his dark eyes caught the light and flickered. Briar’s stomach muscles softened, trembled.

“Sorry, ladies. Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” Briar said quickly. Composure, she urged as she opened the refrigerator. “I made some fresh lemonade if you’re thirsty.”

He watched her take down a glass. “Parched, actually.” After a moment, he glanced at Roxie. “Cole Savitt.”

“Pleased to meet you, Cole,” she acknowledged. “Roxie Honeycutt.”

Cole stuck out a hand for her to shake then pulled it back when he saw the grease on his fingers. “Sorry. I’ve been working on my bike for the better part of the morning.”