Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)(30)

“Mommy, look who I found.” Hope bounded toward them, her hand caught in Wyatt’s. “See, I told you they were out here.”

Wyatt kept up with Hope’s energetic stride as she tugged him toward the backyard.

“Right on time. I hope you brought a tape measure,” Miss Gina said.

“I have one in my truck.”

“What are you doing, Miss Gina?” Hope asked once they stopped short of the painted box on the ground.

Melanie lifted her gaze to Wyatt’s and shivered. His smile caught in his eyes and warmed her belly. The image of him standing there holding her daughter’s hand didn’t go unnoticed. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he said, staring.

She should have felt the need to squirm; instead she squared her shoulders and let him look his fill. She wore blue jeans and a button-up blouse, but he still looked at her as if she were dressed in the little black dress she’d worn the night before.

“You said it was an emergency, Miss Gina.”

“It is. This needs to be done before fall sets in and the rain keeps you from finishing it.”

Wyatt finally looked away. “What needs to be done?”

Miss Gina waved her hands wide. “Isn’t it obvious? I need a guest house.”

“A guest house isn’t an emergency. Broken pipes, yes . . . new construction—”

“Don’t bicker with me.” She pointed the spray paint at him with a shake of her wrist. “We need to jump on this and I want you to do the job.”

“A guest house?”

“More guest quarters. I don’t need a kitchen. Well, maybe a tiny kitchen. A refrigerator for my lemonade.”

Melanie chuckled.

“Can you build a whole house?” Hope asked Wyatt.

He offered a simple nod.

Hope swung her head, her ponytail smacking Wyatt’s arm. “Wow. Can I help? I’m a good helper.”

“Hope, I don’t think—”

“Of course you can. How about you run to my truck and bring me my pad of paper and the pencil sitting on the passenger seat.”

And she was gone, running around the inn to fill his request.

“She doesn’t jump that fast to help me out,” Mel said.

“Your daughter loves me, what can I say?” He ran a hand through his hair with a smirk.

“If you two are done flirting, we can get on with this.” Miss Gina walked to the far side of her box and started her list. “One bedroom, full bath with a closet. The walk-in kind . . .”

Hope rushed back to Wyatt’s side, out of breath, and handed him his papers.

He ruffled her daughter’s hair and turned his attention to Miss Gina. Instead of insisting Hope find something to do other than bug Wyatt, Melanie left her to him and walked back inside the inn.

There were rooms that needed cleaning. It was time to start making sure she was doing the job she was getting paid for. Since arriving in River Bend, Melanie had spent more time socializing than working.

As the afternoon wore on, she’d occasionally glance outside and find Wyatt placating her daughter by handing her a tape measure or something equally as safe. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was entertaining her daughter as a way of working his way closer to her. Not that he needed the help. Thinking about the man had become an hourly pastime since his almost kiss on the track field. What kind of kisser would he be? The good kind, she imagined. The thought alone gave her butterflies. It had been a long time since she’d been kissed.

So why had she stopped him?

Fear.

She hated that about herself. The last time she was in River Bend fear wasn’t part of her vocabulary. Then life’s punches reminded her how much it hurt to get hit.

Her best friends didn’t seem to suffer from the same paralyzing thoughts. Granted, neither Jo nor Zoe were involved with anyone, but it wasn’t fear keeping them from it.

Jo was cursed with being the town cop. It was kinda hard to have a fling or an anything when she overpowered the single men in town.

And Zoe . . . the image of Luke staring Zoe’s way most of the night before kept coming to the surface. He wasn’t over her. While Zoe said she had moved on . . . Melanie wasn’t so sure.

So far no one in her close circle of friends was winning in the romance category. Not even Miss Gina had found herself a lover. At least not that Mel had caught on to, in any event.

She shouldn’t be thinking about Miss Gina’s sex life while fishing out a towel that had been tossed under one of the guest room’s beds.

“There you are.”

The sound of Wyatt’s voice had Mel tossing her head up too fast. The back of it caught the edge of the bed.

“Ouch!” She wasn’t sure what was more unflattering . . . her ass sticking in the air as she retrieved someone else’s castoffs or her clumsy move that made a few stars sparkle in her head.

With a quick twist, she plopped on the floor, her ass no longer flying, and grasped her head. “That hurt.” And it did. Right down to her toes.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

When she opened her eyes, Wyatt was kneeling, his hand over hers holding the back of her skull.

“Are you okay?”

Melanie grumbled and rolled her eyes. “A little warning next time, Mr. Ripper.”