Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)(49)

Boyfriend felt a little deep considering their early stages of getting to know each other, but for her daughter’s sake, it was probably best to keep it simple.

“Yeah, kinda like a boyfriend.”

“So you have a boyfriend.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m . . . yeah . . . I guess you can say that.” She might need to explain that to Wyatt before the seven-year-old inquisition happened to him.

“My friend Kimmie told me that sometimes boyfriends turn into daddies. Is Wyatt going to be my daddy?”

“Oh, honey, let’s not go there. Wyatt and I hardly know each other. Being a dad takes a long time to figure out.”

“Hmmm.” Hope stared out the window, her fingers tapped on the edge of the door in thought. “I think Uncle Wyatt could be a good dad.”

Melanie wondered if Wyatt had any clue as to what his simple kiss had started.

She pulled into the driveway of the inn, noticed a rental car that hadn’t been there when she’d left. Nathan?

She felt her pulse jump, hoped he wasn’t the one behind the car. Her head scrambled for an excuse to keep Hope from following her inside. “Sweetie, take the leftovers to the kitchen for me.”

Hope shrugged and pushed out of the car.

When Hope stepped in place beside her, Melanie clarified what she wanted. “Around back, honey.”

“But I can go through the front.”

“The fruit container is dripping. I don’t want to mess up the floor.” It was a complete lie, but Hope took it and walked around the back.

Melanie squeezed her hands into fists and released them before stepping inside.

Her breath released in a happy rush. “Mr. Lewis.”

The man who had stayed one night on the evening of Zane’s craziness stood at the front desk with Miss Gina.

“Hello again.” Mr. Lewis was ten years her senior and had recently started some kind of business that brought him through River Bend.

Melanie’s relief that Nathan wasn’t behind the rental car kept a smile on her face as she approached the desk.

“That was a quick trip,” she said to him.

“I have another one next week.”

Miss Gina handed him his room key. “Might need to get a punch card or something.”

“My boss takes care of it,” Mr. Lewis told them. “He doesn’t complain about the price.”

“Then maybe we should charge you double,” Miss Gina suggested.

Mr. Lewis laughed and tapped the counter before reaching for his bag.

“Should I show you your room?” Melanie asked.

“No, I remember where it is.”

The sound of feet running through the hall accompanied Hope’s happy voice. “Oh, hi, Mr. Lewis.”

“Hello, beautiful.” Mr. Lewis placed a hand on Hope’s shoulder and left it there. “You’re not running through the house, are you?”

Hope snapped her lips shut and looked between the three of them. “Uhm . . .”

“I didn’t think so,” he said.

Hope had the three of them laughing when she offered an animated smile full of teeth and mischief before walking slowly out the front door.

“Guest reception is at five, Mr. Lewis.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Nice man,” Melanie said after he made it halfway up the stairs.

Miss Gina offered a shrug without words.

“You don’t think so?”

“Nice enough, I guess. Wyatt is more your speed.”

Melanie rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Good. Now, how is Josie’s place?”

“A mess. According to Luke, he and Wyatt are going to be up all night painting the place.”

“How does a bar fight involve new paint?”

Melanie shook her head. “It doesn’t. But patching a wall isn’t Wyatt’s style without a complete upgrade . . . at least according to Luke.”

Miss Gina looked around the reception area. “Maybe we need to start a fight here.”

Mel nudged Miss Gina aside and stepped around her. “You’re bad.”

“Sounds like a big job for just two men.”

“It is. I was wondering if you’d mind keeping an ear out for Hope tonight so I can lend a hand.”

“Of course, love. Hope is easy. And if painting results in an overnight stay, that’s fine, too.”

Melanie’s jaw dropped for the second time that day. “Miss Gina!”

“I’m just sayin’.”

“You’re suggesting.”

They kept the conversation going as they entered the kitchen. “You’re young, honey. You should be knockin’ boots with someone while you can find them.”

She laughed. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve knocked anything with anyone?”

Miss Gina pulled her special lemonade from the refrigerator before turning over two glasses that were drying on a towel by the sink. “That’s a damn shame. When I was your age I didn’t go a week without sex.”

“Those were the sixties.”

Miss Gina stopped pouring and stared longingly out the back window. “Indeed they were. Best time ever.”