When he came back with a small duffle, she offered the key. “You know how everything works?”
“Everything but you, but I’ll figure it out.”
“It’s not that complicated.”
They stood together in the doorway a moment. “You know, you could just put out a sign. Leave them Vesta’s number and a six-pack.”
“Yes, that’s the kind of service we pride ourselves on at Inn Boons-Boro.” She touched a hand to his arm. “I have tomorrow off. I could be off-campus until nine, maybe ten. I could come to your place.”
“That should work. I don’t allow walk-in guests.”
“Consider this booking a reservation.” She stepped back so he could close the door.
He’d taken it better than she’d expected. And, truth be told, better than she had herself initially.
She went back into the kitchen, took out the food Avery had prepared. She’d just put it on low so they could eat whenever it suited him. Then she opened a bottle of wine, let it breathe.
She deserved a glass of wine.
Tomorrow, she promised herself. She’d focus on personal business, including driving over to Ryder’s. That was probably better anyway. No chance of interruptions, problems, no ghost who might decide to play games.
Just the two of them. She glanced down to where D.A. snoozed on the floor.
Well, the three of them.
She got two glasses from the cupboard, was about to pour her own when she heard feet on the stairs.
Naturally, she thought, and put the glass down again.
Chip Barrow’s sandy hair stood up in mad spikes. Along with his tattered jeans he wore the faded Foo Fighters T-shirt he’d worn for check-in. Only now he wore it inside out. She doubted he realized it.
He gave her a sleepy, sex-drugged smile she envied bitterly.
“Hey.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry to bother you.”
“You’re not. What can I do for you?”
“Me and Marlie were wondering about maybe some dinner. Like I could get takeout so we could just …”
“Couldn’t be easier.” Though there would be one in their room packet, Hope opened a drawer for Vesta’s menu. “They’re right across the street, and they’ll deliver if you like.”
“Really? Awesome. Pizza’s like just right. It’s good, right?”
“It’s very good. I’d be happy to call the order in for you when you decide.”
“I know what Marlie likes.” His face shone as he said it. “We could do a large, with pepperoni and black olives. And some of this dessert here. This Chocolate Decadence. Sounds awesome, too.”
“I can tell you it is.”
“Um. Can they maybe bring it up to the room? Just like knock on the door?”
“No problem. Would you like a complimentary bottle of wine?”
“Seriously? Yeah, that’s great.”
“Red or white?”
“Um, why don’t you pick? Ah, could we get a couple of Cokes, too?”
“Give me one minute.”
She got a tray, an ice bucket, screwed two Cokes into the bed of ice. Added the wine she’d opened for herself, the two glasses.
“This is so cool. Marlie’s blown away by the room. We even turned on the fireplace. It got pretty warm, so we opened the windows, but it’s, you know, romantic with the fire going.”
She bit down on the inside of her cheek. “I’m sure it is. I’ll—Oh, Ryder. This is Chip.”
“Hey,” Chip said.
“How’s it going?”
“Awesome.”
“Would you like me to take that up for you?” Hope offered.
“No, thanks. I got it. And you’ll order the pizza and stuff?”
“Right away. Give it about twenty minutes.”
“Cool. Marlie’s going to dig on the wine. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
As he carted the tray out, Hope pressed her lips together to hold back the laugh. “Awesome,” she murmured.
“What is he, twelve?”
“Twenty-one, both of them. She had her birthday just last week. They looked so young I carded them.” She got out another bottle of wine. “Why don’t you open that wine while I call this order in? If you’d rather beer, there’s some in the fridge.”
“Wine’s okay.” A little change of pace, he decided. Like the woman. He poured a glass for each of them, sampled his own. And decided he could develop a taste for change of pace.
After she’d placed the order, he nodded toward the stove. “What’s cooking?”
“Warming, since I can’t take credit for the cooking. Beef medallions, roasted fingerlings, butter-glazed carrots and peas. And there’s a little scallop appetizer.”
“Sounds good.”
She got out the appetizer. “Try it and see.”
He took a sample. “It’s good. Red Hots has the touch.”
“She does. She worked in a pizza joint when we were in college. I always knew when she’d made the pie. It was just that much better.”
“She dove right into Vesta, and she makes it work.”
“She’s the dive-in type.” Deciding she might as well go with the first part of her evening plans, she added a dish of olives, slid onto a stool. Appetizers and conversation here, dinner in The Dining Room. Phase Three would have to wait until tomorrow.
The dog bellied under the stools.
“Were you surprised when Avery and Owen got together?”
“Not especially. He’s had a thing for her since we were kids.”
“And Beckett had one for Clare since high school, and carried that spark all those years.”
“He always knew she was with Clint. He never messed with that. Suffered in secret,” Ryder added. “Unless you lived with him. He used to write really crappy love-ripped-my-still-beating-heart-out-of-my-chest songs and sing them in his room till Owen and I threatened to beat him with bricks.”
“Really?” She laughed, trying to picture it. “That’s so sweet. The songwriting, not the bricks. Were you friends with Clint?”
“Yeah, not close, really. We played football together, got drunk together a time or two. Mostly he was centered on Clare, like she was on him, and looking to join the service.”
“So young, both of them. Like Chip and Marlie.”
“Who?”
“Wesley and Buttercup—the almost newlyweds. I didn’t meet Clare until she moved back to Boonsboro and Avery introduced us. After Clint died.”
“Hard time for her. She looked—”
“Go on,” she said when he broke off. “Tell me.”
“Delicate, I guess. Like you could shatter her with a hard look. The two kids, basically babies, the runt still in the oven. But she wasn’t. Delicate, I mean; not down into it. Clare’s got more spine than anyone I know.”
She thought it might be his longest single discourse on any one person since she’d met him. More, the bone- deep affection and admiration came through.
She’d seen that affection and admiration for her friends, but hearing it touched her.
“I’m lucky to have her and Avery in my life. If I didn’t, I’d probably be in Chicago now instead of here. That’s where I thought my compass would point after Jonathan. Here’s better.”
“Can’t figure what you saw in him.”
Hope sipped her wine, studied Ryder. “Do you want to know?”
“We’re sitting here.”
“All right. I don’t want to compare myself to Clint—his service, his sacrifice, but like him, I had a life plan. It
