The Inn at Summer Island

by Rachel Magee

  Tessa shrugged. “Forecasts have it heading this way, which means I have to start thinking about contingency plans. Even if it doesn’t hit us, it’ll make the seas around here rough. And I can’t take a dive trip out with a high-sea warning.”

  Sophia shot her a sympathetic look. “Maybe it’ll blow itself out before it gets here. It’s still pretty far away.”

  Clearly, Millie needed to do a little more research on this hurricane thing if she was going to live next to the ocean. “Can it do that? Blow itself out? Like it just disappears?”

  “Sometimes. That’s the thing about storms. They’re not super predictable. They tend to have a mind of their own.” Tessa pulled the pencil from behind her ear and marked the cutline on the tile in front of her. “But Sophia’s right. It’s still too far out to get concerned about yet. We’ll have to wait and see what it does.”

  “But there’s a different, much more pressing topic we need to spend some time on.” Sophia paused and shot Millie a scandalous look. “One that involves a certain neighbor.”

  “What’s going on with Braxton?” Tessa asked, because apparently there was no need to clarify which neighbor.

  Millie didn’t feel any more at ease with the new topic, so she picked up the next tile, trying to distract herself. “He lives next door. Nothing to talk about.”

  “They were hanging out at the Beach Front Festival,” Sophia said.

  From the corner of her eye, she could see Tessa’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? How did I miss this?”

  “Because you were busy running the bodyboarding and standup paddling workshops. You never made it off the beach,” Sophia said.

  “Because there was nothing to miss,” Millie added. “We weren’t hanging out. He gave me a ride since parking is such an issue.” She tried to ignore the fluttery excitement that seemed to show up every time she thought of Braxton.

  “If your definition of not hanging out means sampling food together, playing with Alice and setting her down for a nap, and then sitting on a blanket sharing drinks while listening to the music show then, yeah”—Sophia grinned—“you totally didn’t hang out.”

  The heat firing up Millie’s cheeks no doubt gave her away, and she groaned.

  “Methinks thou doth protest too much.” Tessa flashed a knowing grin.

  Millie rolled her eyes. “If there were scandalous details, I’d give them to you. But the reality isn’t that exciting. He drove me to the festival in his minivan and pointed me in the direction of the best food booths. At the end of the day, he dropped me off in front of my house. That’s it.”

  “He laughed,” Sophia told Tessa.

  Memories of Braxton’s laughter floated to the front of her mind. That part she couldn’t deny. Yes, he’d gone a little overboard with the dad jokes, but it was more than that. He was witty. And smart and interesting and…

  She let the thought fade away because, like she said before, it was nothing.

  “Braxton laughed, huh?” Tessa exchanged a glance with Sophia.

  “I’m pretty sure it was the festival that made him smile. I just happened to be the one who rode in the car with him.” It was true, after all, wasn’t it? Just because it was a great day didn’t mean there was anything there. She wasn’t interested in anything more, and he had more than enough going on in his life. They were neighbors. The end.

  She went back to tiling. “It’s nothing. In fact, I haven’t even seen him since.”

  She left off the part that she had, however, noticed his house had been unusually still the past couple of days and she wondered if he’d gone out of town. Which, by the way, didn’t say anything about how she was feeling. After all, watching his house was a very neighborly thing to do, wasn’t it?

  …

  Saturday morning was quiet around Braxton’s house and it made him anxious. Over the past couple days, he’d taken Alice to Atlanta to spend the week with her maternal grandparents. It was something he did twice a year, since it gave Alice a chance to bond with her mother’s side of the family. It also gave Braxton a little break from the constant demands of being a single father while giving Lena a much-needed week off.

  Braxton knew it was a good thing, but the quiet house was always a bit unnerving.

  So far today he’d gone to the gym, spent the morning getting caught up on work, and paid his daily visit to Henry. It was only two o’clock and Braxton had already finished everything on his to-do list, leaving him alone and restless in his quiet, empty house.

  He walked out to the back porch as he sorted through ideas of how to fill the rest of his empty hours. He could read. There were a couple new books he’d been wanting to get to. Or he could take his kayak out and go fishing. It’d been a while since he’d paddled through the marsh. Those were exactly the kinds of activities his former in-laws suggested he do with his “free time.”

  Braxton pulled his phone from his pocket, ready to look up the tide schedule, when something else caught his attention. A single someone was at the edge of the long exterior wall of the neighboring house. There was a good amount of space between where he was on his deck and where her house started, but he could tell it was Millie by the dark wavy hair pulled back with a pink baseball cap. She was painting the wood siding armed with nothing but a single paintbrush and a ladder.

  He watched for a second as she dipped and painted, dipped and painted, over and over until she had adequately covered the small area she was working on. She stepped back to study it and wiped her forehead with her arm. The amount of area the fresh paint covered looked painfully small next to the amount of wall that remained. She would have to repeat that process hundreds of times to finish the entire side of the house.

  Seemingly undeterred by the amount of siding left, Millie dipped her brush in the paint tray and went back to work. There was something about watching her tackle the enormous job stroke by tiny stroke that impressed him, and Braxton suddenly had a great idea for how he could spend the rest of his day.

  After a quick wardrobe change and grabbing two cold bottles of water from the fridge, he headed down his front porch and walked out to the end of his driveway.

  This was the first time he’d ever walked to his neighbor’s house. After five years of living in this house, he’d only ever visited his neighbors by car, which now felt very impersonal.

  He walked past the crew of workers going in and out of Millie’s house and around to the side.

  “Hey there, neighbor,” he said as she came into view.

  She paused mid-stroke and a grin pulled at the corners of her mouth.

  “Is this my daily safety protocol lecture?” There was a joking tone to her words and she rested her paintbrush on the paint tray while all her attention was focused on him.

  “I racked my brain but can’t think of one safety tip for painting.” He shrugged and handed her one of the bottles in his hand. “Seriously, though, if you’d like some help, I’d love to lend a hand.”

  She took a long drink of her water and then stared at him.

  “You want to spend your afternoon helping me paint this behemoth?” Her eyes narrowed as if she doubted what she’d heard.

  Braxton couldn’t decide if he should be offended at her disbelief, but he filed that thought in the back of his mind to be revisited later. “Painting behemoths happens to be my specialty.”

  “Really?”

  “Believe it or not, I’ve painted a wall before.”

  “The mighty Braxton Channing has painted a wall?” she teased.

  He waggled his eyebrows, easing into their now familiar banter. “I’m a man of many talents.”

  “Clearly. And you want to put those talents to use today on the exterior of my house?”

  “Yours seems to be the only house around getting a new paint job today, so…” He looked around as if searching for other houses to paint. “I gues
s I’m here by default.”

  That made her smile, which sent sunlight dancing through him.

  She handed him the paintbrush she was holding. “Well, I don’t let just anyone paint my house. You’ll have to prove you’re worthy of the task.”

  He took the brush from her. After dipping it in the tray on the ground, he pressed it against the wall. Since he was almost a foot taller than she was, he could reach farther up, and he started covering the part just above where she had been.

  She stood next to him, staring up at the wall with her hands on her hips until he had fully covered a two-foot square and he needed more paint.

  “Not bad.”

  “What? You think all I do is stand around and look good? I’m more than just a pretty face.”

  “Awww, that’s sweet.” She playfully patted his cheek. “You think you have a pretty face.”

  Braxton shook his head, but this banter confirmed the reason he came. Being around her was fun. A lot more fun than casting a fishing line by himself. He didn’t need more alone time. He needed—

  “I guess you’re hired. You want to paint, and I don’t want to hinder such a natural talent. Have at it.” She motioned to the wall in front of them.

  He reapplied paint and returned the brush to the wall.

  Millie watched over him for a minute before walking over to the tub of supplies near the corner of the house. “Where’s the little miss today?”

  “Biannual visit with her grandparents.” He painted a few strokes as he considered how to explain the situation that was complicated at best. “Her, um, mother’s parents. They live in Atlanta.”

  Millie pulled out a second paintbrush and stepped up next to him. She dipped it into the paint and began to cover the patch of wall in front of her. “What a great way to keep her mother’s memory alive.”

  Braxton had to agree. Sylvia and Thomas were the kind of warm and devoted parents everyone dreamed of having, and it seemed they were made to be grandparents. They’d doted on Alice from the moment they found out she would be coming into this world. Every child deserved to have someone like that in their life.

  “But it must be very hard on you. You’re brave to let her go.”

  Braxton considered her words. Was he brave? He didn’t feel brave. Everything he’d done for the past two years had been done out of necessity. Raising Alice alone, moving Henry into the assisted living home, simply trying to survive.

  Taking Alice to Atlanta to visit her maternal grandparents was the right thing to do. Braxton knew that in his soul. Alice deserved to be around her biological family and learn from them how amazing her mother had been, and Braxton trusted Jade’s parents. But it always came with mixed feelings.

  On the one hand, it was a nice break to not have to be in charge all the time. He enjoyed having a moment of freedom. There was nothing brave about wanting to sleep past 5:30 a.m. or eating a leisurely meal whenever he felt like it. But on the other hand, leaving Alice in another state in the full care of someone other than himself was hard. When she was out of his direct care there was no way he could keep her from getting hurt, and that terrified him.

  Plus, with Alice gone, the house was too quiet, especially at 5:30 a.m. and during mealtimes.

  “She’s playing with cousins and getting completely spoiled by her grandparents. It’s a good thing.” At least that’s what he kept telling himself. “And it’s a short visit. I’ll fly there on Sunday to get her.”

  Millie squatted down to focus on covering the bottom edge of the house. “So you’re living the bachelor life for the next six days, huh? What wild and carefree adventures await you?”

  Braxton dipped his brush in the tray, then wiped it on the side to prevent any drips. “There’s this monster house that needs painting and I am armed with a paintbrush and a five-gallon barrel of paint. So this party is about to get lit.”

  She chuckled. “Lit, huh? I guess it’s a good thing you showed up. Before you got here, I was starting to think this was the most monotonous task I’d attempted so far.”

  Playfulness danced through him. It had been a while since he felt like this. Sure, he’d had moments of fun, and there had been plenty of excitement over the past several years, but he hadn’t felt playful. There was just something about being around Millie that made him want to smile again. Hope again. Laugh again.

  And even though every logical thought in his brain told him to run the other direction, this time his heart won and he stood firmly where he was, wide goofy grin and all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Millie hadn’t expected painting the exterior of Seascape to be fun. In fact, she’d been dreading the task since the moment she circled it on the reno task list.

  There was even a little note next to it declaring it the first item moved to the contract’s list if she came up with extra money, which now seemed laughable. Just this morning, she’d maxed out her last credit card as Gus’s crew started construction on the new boardwalk over the dunes so her future guests wouldn’t have to hop from one large rock to the next as she’d been doing. It wasn’t the boardwalk she envisioned, or even the one she wanted—it was more of a low wooden walkway without handrails—but it was all she could afford.

  To be honest, it was more than she could afford, but at least it’d be finished on time. She hoped.

  When it came to renovations, there was never any extra money or extra time. However, there was no lack of surprises.

  Like Braxton showing up for the second day in a row to help her paint the house. Together, they’d finished the long side wall and most of the back, which was far more than she’d thought she’d be able to accomplish on her own. She was even ahead of schedule. A few more days like this and she might actually have a chance at having everything done before the open house which was rapidly approaching.

  He propped his paintbrush against the paint bucket and stepped back with his hands on his hips to examine the wall they were working on. “Not bad. What do you think?”

  Instead of admiring their work, Millie admired Braxton. Somehow, when he was busy lecturing her about HOA rules and safety protocols, she’d missed how attractive he was. And now that she’d noticed, it was hard to look away.

  “Not bad at all.” She was at least partially referring to the wall. Probably. “But I think you missed a spot.”

  He squinted up at the wall. “Really? Where?”

  “Right here.” She dabbed her paintbrush against his cheek, leaving a seashell-white smear along his strong jawline.

  The expression on his face was priceless. It went from serious and stony to wide-eyed with shock then softened into a playful grin. It was a micro glimpse of how his attitude had changed since she met him, and the transformation made her giddy. “No worries. I got it for you.”

  “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.” He wiped the spot on his face and surveyed the amount of paint that had come off on his fingers. “I should probably wash this off.”

  He grabbed the hose and leaned over, as if he was going to spray the water on his face, but just as he squeezed the handle, he flipped his wrist, pointing the nozzle right at Millie.

  The cold water hit the side of her body, causing her to gasp. She jumped out of the way, water dripping off her arm.

  “Oops. Didn’t see you there.” He shot her the kind of roguish grin that made her heart do a stutter step.

  “It happens.” She shook off the water droplets from her left arm and fanned the side of her shirt to air it out a bit. “However, this also has a tendency to happen.” With a swift move, she picked up her brush and spun it, swiveled, and then ran it down his arm.

  Braxton stared down at his shirt, his mouth hanging open. “Hey! This is my favorite shirt.”

  The outburst caused Millie to pause. Maybe she’d taken it too far, but to be fair, she hadn’t meant to paint his shirt. She was aiming for h
is arm but the fancy move threw her off.

  She laid her brush down and grabbed the rag she had hanging from a loop on her toolbelt. “Sorry. Let me just…” She stepped closer to him, ready to dab the paint off his sleeve, when icy water hit her right in the chest. The shock combined with the coldness momentarily took her breath away.

  “Just kidding. Who wears their favorite shirt to paint?” Mischief sparkled in his cobalt eyes and a wide smile stretched across his face.

  Millie stared down at her drenched shirt. “So that’s how we’re going to play this, huh?” She backpedaled, grabbing for the brush to defend herself. She tried to dodge the water spray as she swiped at him with the paintbrush, but it was no use. In this situation, the water hose was the more successful weapon. She squinted through the spray and reached for one final attempt of smearing him with ivory paint. But she missed, running the roller across Bear instead, who’d come off the porch to check out the situation.

  “Oh no!” She let the paintbrush fall to her side as she rubbed the dog’s head. “Sorry, buddy. I didn’t mean for you to get caught in the crossfire.”

  Braxton let go of the sprayer, stopping the heavy stream of water coming from the hose. “Guess everyone’s getting a shower tonight.” He walked closer to Millie to examine the ivory strip running down Bear’s caramel fur. “Although, I gotta say, the color looks good on you, boy.”

  Millie giggled. “Will you spray him off so we can get the paint out before it sets? I’ll grab some shampoo.” She made a grand gesture of setting her brush down and holding up her hands in surrender as she backed toward the porch. “And how about we call a truce before anything else gets painted?”

  “Deal.” Braxton wiped his face on the sleeve of his shirt which did nothing more than smear the paint all the way across his cheek. “I don’t know about you, but all this manual labor has worked up quite an appetite.” He switched the sprayer to the gentle shower setting and held it close to Bear’s back.