The Love Trilogy: Room For Love / An A To Z Of Love / Summer Of Love

“I’m glad you think so.” Nate reached for the bottle of whisky and topped up both their glasses. “Where do we start?”

“With a business plan.” Carrie thought back to all the books she’d read over the last two weeks, on running your own business. “We need to convince people we’re a great investment.”

“Any idea how?”

“Not yet,” she admitted. “But I think that if we can make people see what a great wedding venue this could be—”

“Just weddings, though? Isn’t that a bit… restrictive?” Nate sat up so fast he sloshed whisky over his fingers, and brought them up to his mouth to lick them off. Carrie looked away. That was far hotter than it should be.

“Well, no, I suppose not. We could do other events too. But like I said, weddings…they’re kind of my thing. I’m good at weddings.”

“Is that why you haven’t been back for so long?” Nate asked, stretching an arm out along the back of the sofa. He could almost touch her, if he wanted, Carrie realised. He didn’t. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “Too busy organising other people’s weddings?”

“Something like that,” Carrie admitted. “I worked most weekends, all year round. And my boss was kinda…” she searched for the right word to describe Anna Yardley “…evil.”

Nate laughed. “Doesn’t everyone think that about their boss? Present company excluded, of course.”

“Yeah, maybe. Okay, not evil. But…demanding. And often unreasonable.”

“Sounds like your grandmother,” Nate muttered, although he grinned when Carrie raised an eyebrow. “But we all loved her, so it didn’t matter.”

“Anna’s not very loveable. Or likeable.”

“Then it’s a good job you’re not working for her any more.”

“It is.” Carrie had thought of Anna, when she realised they needed investors. She could make a pretty good case for Wedding Wishes having its own bespoke wedding venue two hours from Manchester. But that would mean working with Anna again, and she just couldn’t face that. They’d find someone else.

“So, it was Anna’s fault you didn’t visit?” Nate asked, and Carrie felt the guilt flood over her again.

“Partly, I suppose. I mean, I really was working, most of the time. But…” she thought back, remembering all the arguments between her dad and Nancy “…there were other…tensions, too. Family, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Your dad wanted Nancy to give up the Avalon and retire quietly, right?”

“Except Nancy really wasn’t the retiring quietly sort,” Carrie said with a wry smile.

“She really, really wasn’t.” Nate laughed. “So, what does your dad think about you being here now?”

Carrie froze. She didn’t want to answer that question. Didn’t want to get into the hideous fight at the funeral. Except…

“You were there, weren’t you? At the funeral. So you probably heard exactly what my dad thinks about it.”

Nate winced. “Yeah. He wasn’t exactly quiet, was he? So, is that why you’re so desperate to do this by yourself? Just because he said you couldn’t?”

“Not just him,” Carrie muttered.

“Right. Well, if you ask me that’s a rubbish reason. But what do I know? I’m just the gardener, after all.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over them, stretching out in the night until Carrie had to break it.

“What did you think I was going to do?” she asked, honestly curious. “With the Avalon, I mean.”

Nate looked as grateful for the change of subject as she was. “There were a number of theories. You could have sold the place for development into flats, for example, leaving me as a caretaker.”

“I’d never do that!”

“Yeah, well, we couldn’t be sure.” Nate sighed. “Stan will be relieved, anyway. He’s been imagining the worst for weeks.”

“You think they’ll come to a compromise?” Carrie asked, hopeful. “About the dance nights and the bridge?”

He eyed her speculatively. “I think it will be fun to watch you try,” he said, finishing off his whisky.

“As long as I’m entertaining,” Carrie said, and swallowed the last of her drink.

“I think you might be.” Nate got to his feet, unfolding slowly from the sofa. “Well, you can’t do anything about it tonight. So can I pour you another, or do you want me to walk you back to the inn?”

Carrie handed him her glass. “I’m done, thanks. Lots to do tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you,” Nate said with a nod. Carrie tried to protest, but he stood firm. “I’m responsible for the grounds, remember? That means I’m responsible for you while you’re walking across the gardens.”

It was very dark out there, Carrie had to admit. “If you insist.”

“I do,” Nate said, grabbing his coat.

The gardens were invisible in the black night, which was a shame. Carrie would have liked to ask Nate what he was doing with them, but it would have to wait another day. And lovely as the gardens might be, the inn itself had to be a priority, anyway. She wondered if he was any good at DIY.

She’d turned all the lights on when she’d left earlier, knowing she wouldn’t want to come back to a dark and lonely inn. Knowing Nate was down in the summerhouse was reassuring, somehow.

To her surprise, Nate headed not for the front door, but for the dining-room end of the terrace, at the other side from where they’d met that afternoon. He held open the folding glass doors for her. “Don’t forget to lock these behind you,” he said, and Carrie nodded.

On impulse, she paused on the terrace before the door and turned to him. “Thank you for your help today,” she said. All that talk about Anna had reminded her of the sort of boss she wanted to be. But suddenly, all she could think was that Nate was really very close.

Close enough that she could watch his smile widen as he looked down at her, his dark grey eyes warm. So close that, when he bent his head to hers and kissed her, very softly, right on the lips, she couldn’t really have moved away if she’d wanted to.

“Welcome home, Carrie,” was all he said, before disappearing into the darkness of the night and leaving Carrie standing alone on the terrace.

“Apparently this is my number one spot for kissing,” she murmured to herself, remembering her first kiss there, half a lifetime ago. Then she shook her head. She was the boss now, not some kid looking in, wanting to be part of things. She was in charge.

Which meant she didn’t have time to be distracted by Nate Green’s dark eyes and wide shoulders, or the softness of his mouth against hers.

With a deep breath she went inside, locked the doors behind her, and took her files and notes up to Nancy’s attic room to sleep. Time to start dealing with things.

Chapter 5 (#ulink_83fc8a96-57e4-50f2-b79a-8236b72d625f)

Carrie knew the first step in any insurmountable task was prioritisation. She’d written her list while touring the hotel the previous day, and she had Nancy’s survey, so she’d already identified what needed to be done. Now she just needed to make a schedule based on priorities and timescales.

Really, it was just like organising a wedding, if you looked at it right. Most things were, Carrie had found.

It was Sunday, so Carrie was hoping for a peaceful day pottering around the inn, working on her lists and drinking tea. Nate would probably be sticking to his garden, hopefully embarrassed by his audacity at kissing the boss the night before—an incident Carrie had decided to chalk up to the notorious effects of Nancy’s best whisky, and chosen to ignore. Even if his lips had been much softer than she’d expected.