Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)(29)

The voice from the car started to laugh.

Jo twisted and pointed. “I’m sure you have better things to do than sit here and laugh, Deputy.”

Mel glanced at Deputy Emery, who leaned out the window of his squad car.

“Should I write up a report?” Deputy Emery asked, laughing.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Jo was ticked, but a slight amount of admiration sat behind her eyes.

Melanie exchanged glances with Zoe and Jo with a slight nod. The three of them had done their fair share of TPing as kids and couldn’t help but admire the balls of those who decked the town sheriff’s house in Charmin.

Zoe lifted the forgotten broom and nudged a piece of paper off a rosebush. “Does this happen to you a lot, Jo?”

“No one would dare.”

“Well someone dared. Probably several someones. I didn’t hear a peep all night,” Zoe said.

From the wetness of the paper, the blanketing of white happened early in the morning. The three of them had returned from the reunion and crashed at Jo’s house close to one in the morning. It was just rounding on five thirty when Mel forced herself out of bed so she could help Miss Gina and get back to Hope. One glance out the front door had Melanie calling for Jo.

“I guess we should expect you a little late this morning.”

Jo scowled at her deputy. “I’ll be on time.”

“Might wanna think twice on that, Jo,” Luke said. “It’s supposed to rain later today. Wouldn’t want this mess to set in more than it already has.”

Jo crossed her hands over her chest. “Good thing I have friends who can help me clean it up.”

Luke lifted his hands in the air and Zoe pulled the edges of her bathrobe tighter. Both of them started to mumble something about a busy morning.

Jo moved on to Melanie.

“I have to get to work. Sorry.”

“See you at the station.” Deputy Emery drove off with a wave as Jo’s neighbors started to disappear into their houses.

“I’ll try and get back a little later,” Melanie offered.

Jo waved her off. “Go. I’ve got this.” With a turn of her heel, Jo disappeared inside the house.

The second she was gone, Mel and Luke both took out their cell phones and started snapping pictures.

“You two are bad,” Zoe chuckled.

“I’ll forward you the pictures,” Mel told her.

Zoe pointed up into the tree. “Make sure you catch that.”

She pointed her camera toward the sky and snapped a few more angles of the mess.

“Epic,” Luke muttered.





As soon as Mel helped the last of the inn’s guests check out, she found Miss Gina standing on the far south lawn with a can of spray paint in her hands. Miss Gina tossed back a long strand of her peppered hair with a curse and continued to lay lines in the grass.

“Do I even want to ask?”

Miss Gina didn’t bother looking up as she held the can in one hand, the edges of her skirt in the other, and walked backward as she sprayed. “They don’t make these things like they used to,” she complained. “Stupid—” She cut herself off and shook the can in her hand before attempting to draw her line in the lawn.

“What are you doing?”

“Redecorating. What does it look like?”

“Looks like you’re painting the lawn pink.”

Miss Gina straightened and admired the large box she’d managed to draw.

“I think that’s big enough . . . don’t you?”

“What’s it supposed to be?”

“A house.”

Melanie blinked a few times. “A what?”

Miss Gina rested her hands on her hips. “No kitchen. I don’t need a kitchen,” she started to ramble. “Just a bedroom, bathroom . . . a living space with a fireplace. Simple space.”

The box on the lawn took a different shape in Melanie’s head.

“You’re adding a guest house?”

Miss Gina lifted her hands in the air and motioned in air quotes. “Additional guest quarters.”

“But the inn isn’t booked up again until—”

Miss Gina waved her off. “This isn’t for guests. Well, officially . . . for taxes and anyone who asks, yeah . . . guests. But it’s for me.”

“You have a room—”

Miss Gina pointed her can of pink spray paint back toward the ground and splattered pink everywhere. “The innkeeper’s room is for the innkeeper . . . that would be you. I need my own space. I deserve my own space, don’t you think?”

A chill shimmered over Melanie’s spine. Equal amounts of uncertainty and unexpected pleasure clamored for space inside her head.

“Well shit . . . I forgot a closet.”

“Wait . . . what if things don’t work out?”

“I should probably have two closets, right? One in the bedroom and another in the living room. Something for storage?”

Clearly, Miss Gina was planning on an extended stay in her not a guest room guest room. But what if Melanie sucked at being an innkeeper? What if Hope became too much trouble for Miss Gina? Already Miss Gina had played surrogate grandmother, though she preferred the title of aunt to grandma. Hope already gravitated to Miss Gina’s side of the room whenever she was close by.