The Perfect Hope

Hope laughed, felt the tension at the back of her neck dissolve. “That sounds just like him, in content anyway. So what am I worried about? It wasn’t a way into a situation. It was a way out of a situation.”

“Let’s focus on that a minute.” Avery wiggled down in her chair. “During the way out of the situation, were tongues involved?”

“Avery.” Laughing, Clare shook her head, then reconsidered. “Actually … were there?”

With a cat-in-the-cream smile, Hope tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’ve both known me long enough to know if I’m going to do something, I do it right.”

“I admire that about you,” Avery said. “Where were his hands?”

“On the door, he kept them off me. I was against the door, so—”

“Mmmmm. Don’t you love against the door?” Avery asked Clare.

“A personal favorite. Too bad about the hands, though. I bet he’s got good ones. I think it runs in the family.”

Hope let out a sigh. “Despite your mutual obsession with tongues and hands, I feel better. Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Grinning, Avery gave Hope’s hand a squeeze. “And I do mean anytime. Ry’s going to be working on two sides of you for the next however. The odds of further situations are excellent.”

The tension settled into the back of her neck again. “I’m not looking for further situations.”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t walk into one.”

“Or open the door and let one in,” Clare added.

“The two of you think that way because your current life punch is spiked with weddings and babies. Mine is a crystal-clear bowl of career.”

“We’ve got careers,” Avery pointed out.

“And excellent ones. We should all get back to them.”

Even as she started to rise, the door opened. Justine Montgomery walked in.

Her appealing wild mass of dark brown hair tumbled out of a messy tail. She pulled off sunglasses with vivid green frames and grinned. “Hello, girls.”

Nothing to feel guilty about, Hope reminded herself. Nothing at all.

“Powwow?”

“We were just catching up,” Clare began.

Justine walked over, laid a hand on Clare’s shoulder. “How are we doing?”

In answer, Clare rubbed a hand over her belly. “We’re doing good.”

“I was going to run down to see you, and see if I can steal the boys from the sitter later today. I’ve got a yen for a picnic.”

“They’d love it.”

“Then it’s a date. And you.” She pointed at Avery. “I’m hoping we can do another walk-through of the new space, and snag a little time for wedding talk.”

“I’m all over it. I ordered the lights from the site you sent me. They’re perfect. I can go over as soon as Dave gets here.”

“Works for me. Actually, Hope, I came by to see you. I found some furniture for the upper porch I think will work.” Justine opened her huge bag, as vivid a green as her frames, fished out a cut sheet. “What do you think?”

“Perfect. Casual, looks comfortable, and the tones and textures are right.”

“I thought so. Go ahead and order. And I want to hook up with you at some point about how we’re going to handle the guest passes for the gym, and what we could include in a package for guests. It’s a ways off, but —”

“It’s never too soon to plan,” Hope finished.

“Exactly. Staff’s going to be key, and I’ll need to find a good manager. I’ve got some feelers out.”

“Speaking of managers, I was thinking we might start having a managers’ meeting, maybe every four to six weeks. Just to coordinate events, ideas, marketing plans.”

Justine beamed at Hope. “I like it.”

“I’ll send an email out to everyone then, so we can work out the best time. If we go with early afternoons, we can use The Dining Room at the inn. And I should get back.”

“I don’t want to break up the party.”

“We’re caught up.” Hope got to her feet.

“Then I’ll walk over with you, before I go harass my boys. I’ll see the two of you later. What do you say to a nice soft, slatey blue to replace that green on the fitness center?” she asked Hope as they walked to the door.

“I say you’re my hero.”

Avery waited until the door closed. “There’s a thing going on.”

Content, Clare folded her hands on her belly. “Oh yes, there’s a definite thing going on.”

“How do we feel about that?”

“They’re not each other’s usual type. Not even close.”

“Absolutely not,” Avery agreed.

“Maybe that’s why I feel so good about it.”

“Me, too!” Avery popped up, grabbed a Coke and a ginger ale out of the cooler. “Part of it could be we’re in love with two of the brothers. There’s one of us, and one of them left.”

“It’s the kind of symmetry Hope would appreciate. If she wasn’t so annoyed and resistant. But it’s not the big part of why. We love them, so we want them to be happy. To have someone in their lives who makes them happy.”

“Ryder dates a lot, but …”

“He’s never involved,” Clare finished. “And Hope’s not dating at all. Hasn’t dated since—”

“Jonathan,” Avery said with loathing.

“He hurt her more than she’ll admit, even to herself. And over and above that, she’s pushed herself into this mind-set that she doesn’t want or need to date or have a relationship.”

“You had the same mind-set,” Avery pointed out.

“That was different, and I did date a little.”

“Very little.”

“Very little. But I had three children to think of, and a business to run. Plus, and most important, there wasn’t anyone until Beckett.” Clare sipped slowly. “And there’s another thing, and it sounds a little crazy.”

“I’m okay with crazy.”

“Lizzy. She, in a way, gave Beckett and me, and you and Owen, that little push—that springboard, so to speak. And look at us.”

Avery turned her hand, palm up to Clare. “Married, pregnant with twins.”

Clare mirrored the gesture. “Wedding planning. Do you think she, somehow, knows something, or sees something, senses something we don’t? About feelings or potential feelings?”

“Maybe. And that’s no crazier than having her in residence at the inn while she waits for somebody named Billy.”

“I guess it’s not. I wish we could find out who he was, what he was to her.”

“I’m banking on Hope and Owen. It may take a while, but they’ll dig it out.” Avery smiled at Clare over her soda. “So, how much about all this do we tell Owen and Beckett?”

“Oh, everything.”

“Good. They’ll rag on him, which will piss Ryder off. There’s a better chance of further situations if he’s a little pissed off. And, you know, after that asshole Jonathan, Hope could use somebody a little more real.”

“Ryder’s real.” Clare broke out with a grin. “She called him snotty.”

“I know.” Delighted, Avery tipped back and howled with laughter. “And he comes back with snooty. Snotty and snooty. It’s probably wrong, but I love it.”

“If it’s wrong, I’m right there with you.” She lifted her can, tapped Avery’s. “Here’s to the promise of an interesting summer.”

SHE MANAGED TO avoid him for the better part of a week. She saw him—not that she was looking—but it was