Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)(83)

They’d asked him to stay close for more questioning. Hopefully once the drugs wore off, he wouldn’t take another that would cause him to freak out on a massive level and flee. Only time would tell.

Agent Burton rubbed the space between her eyes. “Well, it’s a long drive back to Eugene. I should be going.”

“You know, I have two extra rooms in my house, Burton. You can crash there.”

The other woman hesitated, then said, “Sure. I’ll take it. Save time.”

Jo grabbed her keys. “Follow me.”





Melanie and Miss Gina were washing dishes and cleaning the kitchen when Melanie received Jo’s text.

Wyatt was upstairs unpacking a small bag to hold him over. He took the room at the very top of the stairs so he could hear any comings and goings inside the inn.

Melanie thought about how much of her life had been turned upside down, and how just by knowing her, her friends were in a constant state of chaos as well.

She handed Miss Gina a wet pie pan and shoved her hands back into the water for another. “I’m sorry,” she said without preamble.

Miss Gina kept drying dishes as she spoke. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Everything. You hire me and look what happened. I’ve closed the doors of the inn, interrupted your income—”

“Stop. Just shut the hell up right now. You didn’t bring any of this on yourself.”

“Doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty about how this has affected everyone around me.”

Miss Gina slammed the cupboard after placing the dish inside. “And what is that guilt doing for you? Is it solving anything? Making you sleep better at night?”

“No.”

“Then let it go. I want you and Hope here. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Miss Gina shook off her anger and placed a hand on Melanie’s shoulder. “I never wanted kids because I’ve always felt I had several. You’re like a daughter to me. Don’t ever forget it.”

Her heart leapt in her throat, and she hugged Miss Gina, soapy wet hands and all. “Does this mean Hope can call you Grandma?”

“Hell no! I’m much too young to be a grandmother.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE




Melanie turned off lights and double-checked the doors to make sure they were locked as she passed through the downstairs of the inn. She reached the top of the stairs to find Wyatt’s door open and voices coming from inside.

When Hope started to giggle, Melanie paused.

“You can’t be Snow White,” Wyatt was telling her daughter.

“Why not?” she asked.

“First, you have the wrong hair color.”

Hope giggled.

“Second, your mom would never let you live with seven tiny men.”

“You don’t have a very good imagination,” Hope told him. “The seven dwarfs are all my mom’s friends. Like Auntie Jo is Doc . . . in charge and a little bossy. Luke is Happy. Actually, Mr. Miller is Happy, too. Auntie Zoe is . . .” Hope lowered her voice. “Grumpy. She yells when she’s cooking.”

Wyatt laughed. “Who is the queen?”

When the conversation paused, Melanie snuck a peek behind the door to find Hope snuggled up to Wyatt on his bed, their heads buried in a book. “That guy who says he’s my dad.”

Wyatt stared at Hope. He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something a couple of times before anything came out. “What makes you say that?”

Hope shrugged and turned the page. “I’m a kid, but I have ears. I know he wants to take me away from here.” The sadness in her voice sliced through Melanie as she listened to their conversation.

“He might just want to get to know you.”

“Then he should come for dinner or something . . . like normal people.”

Her daughter was so smart.

Wyatt messed up Hope’s hair and pointed to the book. “Who is the huntsman?”

Hope tried to hide a yawn. “That’s your dad.”

Melanie closed her eyes and thought about her daughter’s cast of characters.

“What about the prince? The one who saves Snow White?”

“There is no prince.” Hope was adamant.

“No prince?”

“Nope . . . that’s where all these stories are messed up. Princes don’t save anyone. It’s the knight that comes to the rescue. And he doesn’t do it by kissing.” Hope made an animated face as if kissing was like eating mud. “The knight sweeps in and keeps Snow White from eating the apple and pushes the queen off the cliff before she can push Snow White.”

Melanie found herself holding her breath. That went very dark, very quickly.

“If my knight was here, he would have kept Mr. Lewis from pushing me.”

Melanie must have moved. Wyatt’s eyes snapped to her once Hope’s words sank in. She’d never once said aloud that Mr. Lewis had pushed her.

“How did Mr. Lewis push you, sweetie?”

She turned the page, unfazed by the question. “He pushed my butt with his hands.” She sighed. “Maybe Mr. Lewis is the queen, too.”

Hope snapped the book shut, gathered it with her unbroken arm, and kissed Wyatt’s cheek. “Thanks for reading me a story.”