Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 10

anything.
    "Can I think about it? It's quite a lot to commit myself to. A bed and breakfast in a small mountain town is a bit different from a boutique hotel in Santa Monica."
    "What the hell is a 'boutique' hotel?" Riley drained the last of his coffee.
    "Small, exclusive, expensive with all the luxuries you could want."
    He raised an eyebrow. "For people with more money than sense, all those Hollywood types."
    "Something like that."
    "Let me show you around, then I'll leave you to think."
    "All right."
    He offered me a smile colored with relief. "I guess I should be glad you haven't dismissed the idea out of hand."
    "I'm always open to possibilities."
    Riley pushed his chair back and I followed. He led me into the hall and into the dining room. "This is big enough that we could fit several small tables."
    We?
    I kept my mouth shut and nodded, seeing the potential. The large room housed a single table. Nothing special, but it contained the sad echo of long ago family occasions. It was a small boat adrift in a sea of wood paneling and faded carpet. It didn't take too much to imagine several tables scattered about.
    "What's underneath the carpet?" My mind was already racing ahead out of habit.
    "Floorboards…nice ones."
    "Good, it's easier to clean food off floorboards instead of carpet." I wandered around the room. The three large sash windows admitted plenty of soft, grey light. On a sunny morning, it would be warm and welcoming. "Would this be a year-round thing, or just during the summer?"
    Riley leaned in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. "All year. People like to come up here for the snow too."
    I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen snow. The scheme slipped a little further beneath my skin. I looked at him. "Where to next?"
    "Upstairs. There's far more to it that you can imagine."
    We trailed up the stairs. Riley paused at the top of the landing. "There's six rooms here. Four of them have their own bathrooms. The other two share one between them." He opened a door. "Here's the first secret."
    The door opened onto a short, dark passage. Riley flicked a switch, illuminating the space and another door at the other end. I followed him through into another hallway. The hall was almost identical to the one that ran parallel to it, the doors on the opposite side.
    "This is the family space. The other hall is for guests." He opened the first door. "This is my room."
    I peered past him into a typically masculine space—a sleigh bed, roughly made after a night's sleep, the quilt made of a starburst of autumnal colors. There were few clues about Riley—no photographs, no bits and pieces. A couple of paintings of horses hung on the walls. A pair of Wranglers rested over the arm of a wingback chair beside the window.
    "Very nice."
    He closed the door and walked along the hall. "If you want to stay and take me up on my offer, you can have this room."
    I stepped into the room. It was almost a mirror image of Riley's—sleigh bed, another quilt, this one a mosaic of blues and greens. A door led to a bathroom. There was space in the room for an old, overstuffed chair and a few other bits and pieces. I had no trouble imagining myself there. "I like this."
    "I'll show you the rest of the guest rooms."
    We returned to the other corridor. The guest rooms were all of a similar size, all of them in need of nothing more than an airing.
    "What do you think?" Riley headed back down the stairs.
    "I like the rooms. I should think they'd be very popular."
    Back in the kitchen, Riley helped himself to another coffee. "Want another one?"
    "Why not?" I held out my empty mug.
    "Do you think it's worth reopening a Bed and Breakfast here?"
    "I don't see why not. You know this area, you'd have a better idea than I would about whether there'd be demand or not."
    "I'm pretty sure there would be."
    "What you want me to do?" I added another sugar to my coffee.
    "We could definitely hire someone to do the cleaning. I'm thinking, since you can cook, you could do the breakfasts and just…well…manage things."
    I've always been a sucker for brown eyes. There's just something about them. The house wrapped itself around me, offered peace and comfort. Riley was someone I could probably get along with. "So you'd leave the running of the place to me?"
    "I don't know much about running a bed and breakfast. I can break a horse, but I can't see me looking after customers and being polite all the time."
    I sipped my coffee and considered my