Love At First Ink: A Woodbine Valley Romance (Tate Family Book 1) Read online

  “I didn’t cancel,” Elle said. “Where would I go? And I know you’re booked. It’s no problem. I’m just happy you were able to fit me in for Friday night.”

  Theo's family’s inn, the Murphy House, was minutes from Oak Bramble. Just last year, a big fire took out most of the inn, but Theo's sister had returned home to renovate it. Now, Theo was living there and managing the place while her parents enjoyed their retirement.

  "Well, how did you get there?"

  "You saw the photo of the guy on the plane … ?” she let the question hang in the air as she considered just how much of a weirdo she was for taking an on-the-sly photo of a stranger. She sincerely hoped Justin never found out. “The same guy picked me up from the airport. He works here and drove me to Oak Bramble, which I'll add, is absolutely gorgeous."

  Theo made a noise of surprise. "Now I know why he looked familiar. I think he went to my high school. He wasn’t in my class, though. Maybe he was in Eowyn’s … Anyhow, I don’t remember seeing him around town, but this place is so small I probably passed him and just didn’t notice.”

  “How could you not notice Justin?” Elle asked. She was truly curious.

  "I'm a single mother with two small children," Theo said.

  "Oh, right."

  “I’m a little surprised, Elle. I can’t imagine you getting into a vehicle with any man who looks like that. Did you run a background check first?”

  At Elle’s appalled gasp, Theo said, “Just kidding!”

  “I can’t believe you’d say that!”

  In the background, there was a crash. Theo told the boys to behave and Elle waited a moment. It gave her just enough time to consider her friend's off-hand words. They stung, more than she wanted to admit.

  "Theo," she asked when her friend returned. "Do you think I'm a snob?"

  Theo laughed.

  "Hey," Elle said. "I'm serious."

  "Oh, right. Sorry." Theo paused. “You know I love you. Just as you are.”

  This forced a laugh out of Elle. “I love you too, now be honest with me,” Elle said.

  "Here's the thing,” Theo said, taking her time. “Yes, you act snobbish sometimes and you can be harsh and judgmental, but I've seen you change your mind about people. Look at Isabelle! When we first met each other in the dorms, you wouldn't give her the time of day. Then you got to know her and you started to look beyond how she dressed and acted. Besides, you're a librarian, for goodness sake. So you're not entirely a lost cause."

  Elle nodded, thinking.

  "Why, who called you a snob?" Theo asked.

  Elle was silent.

  "Oh, the tattooed guy, huh?" She started laughing. "God, that's just too perfect. The snobby little librarian getting called out by the sexy tattooed guy."

  "Really?" Elle said. "You're laughing at me now?"

  Over the line, she heard one of the boys call for Theo in a long, many-syllabled wail of, "Moooo-oooom."

  "I have to run," Theo said. “Call me if anything exciting happens. Oh, and Isabelle wants to know if his glasses are prescription. We've started a betting pool. Check your texts, okay?"

  Before Elle could say a word, Theo was off the line.

  A betting pool?

  Elle shook her head. She sat on her bed for a moment before walking over to the window. Grass sparkled in the early morning sunlight, wet with dew that glowed like gold.

  She'd met Theo and Isabelle her freshman year in college. The year she finally broke free from Caroline's tight grasp. She’d stood her ground and avoided her mother's sorority, voting instead to stay in the dorms. Then, for the next three years, she, Isabelle, and Theo were roommates, sharing a small apartment off campus. It was heaven and hell rolled into one—rooming with two women who were both near polar opposites of her.

  She loved her friends. And their opinions mattered.

  Elle didn't want to be like her mother. Caroline was harsh and unbending. More, she was demanding. Impossible to impress.

  In secret moments, Elle would think about her own daughters. She wanted children. Someday. And the very last thing she wanted was to be like her own mother.

  Elle would be warm and loving. She would make sure her daughters knew they were loved—no matter what they looked like, no matter who they dated or didn't date, no matter which job they chose.

  She would be different.

  She would love them no matter what.

  Now, with the echo of Theo's and Justin's words on her mind, she started to wonder if years of listening to Caroline had shaped her into someone she didn't want to be.

  Outside her window wind rustled in the leaves. She tried to breathe it all in, forcing the bad feelings out and bringing in the possibility of something new.

  Her phone dinged. Elle glanced at the screen; there was a new text from her sister.

  Elle steeled herself.

  Are you in Asheville now? her sister texted.

  Elle texted back quickly. No. But I’m not far. I’m in Woodbine Valley. Staying at an inn.

  Oh, okay.”

  There was a pause while Lucy typed.

  I thought we could do breakfast this week. I’ll be in Asheville getting things ready … it would be nice to see you!

  Elle debated telling her sister the truth about Carter. For a moment. Then she remembered her mis-invitation from Lucy’s bridal shower. Did her sister really want to see Elle? Or was there something else going on? Elle decided it was far more likely that Lucy needed something, not that she actually wanted to spend time with her boring older sister.

  Sorry, can’t. She paused, debating how much to tell. This was supposed to be my romantic week with Carter, remember?

  It wasn’t a complete lie, Elle told herself.

  That’s right! I’m so happy for you. Have fun!

  She and her sister exchanged goodbyes. Elle didn’t feel great about the half-lie, but she told herself it was the best choice.

  But … what if Lucy really wanted to spend time with Elle?

  What if Elle was wrong about her sister?

  Just as she was about to text back, the scent of butter reached her room.

  Elle didn't need convincing. There would be plenty of time to catch up with Lucy. But for now, there was a baked good with Elle’s name on it.

  "Mom, I'm just helping her out."

  Jess bustled around the kitchen of the main house. She pointed to a tray of croissants, and Justin started moving them from the tray to a serving basket. He was well-trained.

  "Did you put a cloth on that?" Jess asked.

  Well, he wasn't perfect.

  Justin grabbed a linen hand towel and started over.

  "Please don't give her a hard time," he said to Jess. "Or try to set us up."

  "Would I ever?" Jess blinked at him.

  He shook his head.

  She lined up small bowls and plates on a tray, then pulled a large glass bowl from the industrial-sized refrigerator. While they talked, Jess sliced fruit.

  "Is it so wrong that I want to see my children happy?"

  Justin sighed. "No, it's not. I just don't want you seeing something that isn't there. She's a guest. We went to dinner. End of story.“

  “Mm-hm,” Jess said, making it sound like a question and argument all rolled into one. She set aside the fruit and began folding napkins.

  “It didn’t mean anything,” he said. “She paid."

  Jess slapped a napkin down on the table. "Justin! Tell me you didn't let her pay.”

  He'd walked into that one. "She insisted," he said, telling himself it was close to the truth.

  Jess shook her head. "Well, we'll talk about this later. Right now I have too much to do and too little time to do it. That woman is coming, you know," Jess moved efficiently through the kitchen, accomplishing double what Justin could in half the time.

  That woman referred to a writer who was coming to interview Jess for a popular women's living magazine. The kind of magazine that told women how to make old armchairs look like n
ew armchairs by adding lots of expensive pillows. Not that he read the damn thing.

  It was all Jess could talk about for months, and being featured in the magazine was a great opportunity for the inn. His mom was trying to act cool and calm, but Justin knew her well enough to know she was a mess of nerves.

  "It's going to be great, Mom," he said. "There's nothing to worry about."

  "I hope you're right," Jess said. She moved to the cooking range and flipped strips of bacon. "You know what a mess the grounds are after that storm—I told you about that, didn't I?"

  "You did. I noticed Jo's crew out front."

  She waved a hand in the air. “She's down two workers. They have the flu. Great timing, right?"

  "I'll help out today. Don't worry so much."

  "Good morning!" Justin’s little sister Amy breezed into the kitchen and snagged a croissant. "Mom," she said, groaning around a large bite. "These are amazing."

  Jess smiled. "Of course they are. Have you seen the girl Justin brought home?"

  "Thanks a lot, Mom," Justin said.

  Jess ignored him.

  "Justin brought a girl home? Jus, you feeling okay?" Amy walked over to him and put a hand on his forehead. Then she smacked him on the arm. "Good to have you back. Evan didn't get his greedy hooks into you, huh?"

  "After this morning, I'm tempted to go back."

  His sister snorted. "Yeah, right."

  Amy was the shortest of the Tate siblings. Her brothers towered over her, but she had them wrapped around her fingers. Always had, always would. Like Justin, she preferred the quiet of the Valley to the city. More and more she could be found working in the local nursery. He missed having her at the inn but knew she was happier working with plants.

  "What are you wearing?" Jess asked Amy, pausing to gesture with her spoon.

  Amy glanced down at her dirt-streaked overalls and tank top. "What?"

  That was the other thing about Amy, she'd run with her brothers as a kid, and never seemed to ditch her tomboy ways.

  Jess sighed and mumbled something about her strange children. "You better not be tracking mud into my kitchen with those boots. How they even fit you, I have no idea."

  "I wiped them before coming inside," Amy said.

  "For once it would be nice if you stayed here. I need help getting things set up for that woman, you know."

  "Mom," Amy said. "I suck at making things look nice."

  "It's true," Justin added. "Remember that time she helped you decorate for Jo's wedding. She nearly burned the place down with all those damn emergency flares."

  Amy punched his arm. "I thought they were candles! They always have candles at weddings in the movies. How was I supposed to know?"

  Jess shook her head and turned back to the stove.

  Amy turned shrewd eyes on Justin. "So tell me about the girl," she said before taking another huge bite of her croissant.

  "There's nothing to tell," he said. "She's a guest. I gave her a ride home from the airport. No big deal."

  "God, you're such an angel. We already know Mom loves me best, you don't need to try so damn hard."

  Jess, who was putting spoons in jam jars laughed. "Your brother failed to mention dinner."

  "You took her out to dinner?" Amy yelped.

  "No!" he shot back.

  "Ooh, someone's grumpy," Amy said, then gleefully popped the last of her croissant in her mouth.

  "I'm not grumpy," he grumbled.

  "Since he's in a foul mood," Jess said, redirecting the conversation. "This seems like an opportune time to mention that there was flooding in one of the cottages yesterday. I was hoping one of you might take a look. The last thing I want is for that woman to stumble upon a plumbing disaster."

  Amy shook her head. "Wish I could, but I have shifts at the nursery back to back today. How about you, big brother?"

  Justin rubbed his jaw. "I can take a look. How bad is it?"

  "Bad enough for me to close it up," Jess said.

  Justin knew what that meant. His mom didn't like to turn away paying customers if she could help it. "When's the writer—I mean, that woman—coming in?" he asked, correcting himself after a pointed look from Jess.

  "Tomorrow. I can't even tell you how much there is to do. I have to make sure the tables are set and haven't quite figured out which colors to use. Then there's the matter of lighting and—“

  Jess paused to eye them both. "Look at the two of you! Four children and none of you gives two bits about decorating."

  "Sorry, Mom," Amy said.

  "I'll see what I can do about the plumbing problem," he said in lieu of an apology.

  “Thank you,” Jess said. "Now help me take all of this out, kids."

  But before they could move, the kitchen door swung open.

  All three of the Tates froze.

  Jess was the first to recover. "Mister Vanhelt, sir!" she said. "What a surprise."

  The old man, Vanhelt, stood looking like a granite statue in the kitchen. Jess was right, he wasn't that old, but the man acted old. His once-black hair was peppered with silver, and years of hard work marked his face in severe lines. No matter how many years passed, Justin still tiptoed around Vanhelt. The old man was scary.

  "Yes, well." Vanhelt cleared his throat. He noted the disarray of breakfast prep with narrowed eyes. "I have business to discuss with you."

  "With me?" Jess asked.

  "I don't care to repeat myself."

  Amy snorted. Then covered with a dramatic coughing fit. "Sorry,” she said. “Croissant went down the wrong pipe."

  Vanhelt harrumphed.

  Jess glanced at Justin. He gave her a brief nod. If the old man wanted to talk, he might be softening up on selling.

  "Well, that would be lovely. I’ll need to set out breakfast. Shall we meet at the gazebo in an hour? It's such a beautiful morning. I'll bring—“

  "Fine," Vanhelt said. "Bring what you must, but be quick about it. I can wait an hour, but no more. I'm a busy man."

  "Yes, of course," Jess said.

  With that, the old man stormed out of the kitchen.

  Jess sighed.

  They visibly relaxed, then tensed when the door swished open again.

  "Those apple tarts you make," he said, his voice gruff.

  Jess smiled. "Fresh this morning," she said. "I'll bring some."

  Vanhelt's face held a new expression, one Justin wasn't sure how to make out. The old man nodded, once, then left for the second time.

  "What was that all about?" Amy asked once he was gone. "Did he actually smile at you?"

  Jess fluttered a hand in the air. "He's being polite."

  Amy didn't look convinced. "Sure. Maybe. But I don't remember ever seeing him smile."

  Justin frowned. "You don't have to meet with him," he said to Jess. "If he wants to talk about our offer, then it might be better if I go."

  "The man asked me to meet him. He is my boss after all. I'll respect his wishes and you will too." She paused her breakfast preparations to brush Justin's shoulder with one hand. "You're going to give yourself wrinkles if you keep carrying your worries like that."

  Amy made a noise. "He already acts like he's eighty, Mom. You can't save him."

  "At least I don't dress like a kid out of Newsies," he said.

  "Oh my god, Justin! Are you admitting to watching Newsies?"

  He swore. "You watched that damn show a million times in high school. Of course I've seen it."

  "Quit bickering,” Jess said. “Help me with these, will you?”

  Amy rolled her eyes but picked up two plates lined with baked goods. Justin followed her with a bowl of sliced fruit and a basket of croissants, still grumbling about the damn show. He was never going to hear the end of it.

  A year ago, Jess had asked old man Vanhelt to fund a larger kitchen and a bigger dining area. Justin helped Jess come up with a plan to expand the kitchen, giving her the industrial-sized appliances she wanted. And, all with Vanhelt’s money, they turned th
e back porch into a glassed-in room that opened to the back patio. When it was warm enough, like today, they opened up the tall back doors to let in fresh air. Year round, guests had a view of the grounds behind the main house, and the tidy green that ended in a wall of towering trees.

  In minutes, with Jess fluttering around, the breakfast spread was on the back patio looking like something out of one of the magazines she gobbled up like candy. Tidy and elegant, but homey enough you knew you could sit down and relax.

  "Looks great, Mom," he told her.

  She smiled and patted his arm. "It's not perfect," she worried, "but it will do. If only I could figure out which plates to use tomorrow..." She glanced at Justin. "Right. You don't care."

  Before he could answer, Elle walked in. She wore white shorts that showed off her tan legs, and a shirt tucked in at the waist. Also white. She looked like she was ready for a date at the country club. But damn, she looked good.

  "Quit frowning," Jess chided him. When she saw Elle, she smiled.

  "Good morning," Elle said. "It smells amazing in here."

  Justin crossed his arms and grunted something like a greeting.

  "How did you sleep?" Jess asked Elle, wiping her hands on a linen napkin.

  "It was the best night's sleep I've had in ages," Elle said. "You have such a lovely inn. I just love the way the room is decorated. And every room has a new surprise or a painting to admire.“

  His mom beamed. “What a lovely compliment! This place lets me express my creative side. Most of the art is from local artists, too. If you see anything you like, let me know. I’ve hand-picked everything, from the tableware to the rugs.“

  “Well that sounds fun,” Elle said.

  Jess nodded. “It is. It’s hard, too, but I can’t complain. I get the kids to help with the kitchen," she said, "but they won't touch the rest." She pulled Justin closer. "Except my Justin. He takes care of the website and online booking. And the grounds and construction. Wouldn't be where we are today without his vision."

  Elle looked at him. Was that disbelief? He couldn't tell.

  Justin cleared his throat and grumbled about getting himself some coffee.

  While Elle and Jess talked about things like color palettes and textures, Justin made a beeline for the coffee. He poured a cup and was about to enjoy a sip in peace and quiet when Amy cornered him.