All They Ever Wanted (8 page)

But if she admitted her sins to Miles McAlister, he definitely wouldn't want her. Ever. And that would hurt worse than going to bed unfulfilled.

Lori shook her head, causing Miles to swear violently. He yanked his hands off the counter and turned toward the bay window behind the sink. “Go to bed. Now, Lori. Go, before we break the only rule we've been able to agree on.”

She stared at his broad back for a moment before quietly making her way upstairs.

“O
h, for goodness' sakes! It's no use. I'll never be able to do this the way you do, Lori.”

Lori looked up from the bread she was kneading to see Ginger wadding up a fitted sheet in her hands.

“How do you make this look so easy?” Ginger asked while Cassidy laughed in the background.

I've had years of experience
.

Lori didn't bother admitting that out loud, though. It wouldn't do for either of them to know she'd grown up in a B and B just like this one. She felt that familiar pang of regret she always did when thinking about the way she'd abandoned her mom and stepdad. But Lori had had bigger dreams back then, and they didn't include cooking in the restaurant of a small inn in Oregon. It didn't matter that her mother's dining room had a two-star Michelin rating; Lori wanted her own kitchen. She'd practically had to sell her soul to the devil to get one. Too bad the devil in this case was her own father. Wiping her hands on a towel, she took the sheet from Ginger's fingers.

“For one who's so light on her feet, you'd think she'd be more graceful with her hands,” Cassidy teased.

A ballerina by training, Ginger no longer danced professionally because of an ailing Achilles tendon. She'd been working as the makeup artist for the television show
Historical Restorations
, which Gavin had teamed up with to restore Dresden House this spring. The show—and the eventual sale of Dresden House—had been Gavin's plan to salvage Donald McAlister's reputation by paying off his debt. Things hadn't worked out exactly as Gavin planned, but Lori was glad Ginger had stuck around. She was pretty sure that Gavin was, too. Ginger was a great partner for Gavin. She was not, however, great at folding fitted sheets.

“Fold it once lengthwise.” Lori demonstrated while Ginger looked on. The pretty blonde pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she watched. “Then tuck one corner into the other. Do the same at the other end and then fold it in half once and then again and”—Lori held the folded square for Ginger to see—“you have a folded fitted sheet.”

Ginger let out a resigned sigh. “My arms are longer than yours and I still can't do it like that.”

“You're always welcome to practice.” Lori winked at Ginger. “I do at least one load a day.”

“Here, do it again, Lori.” Cassidy pulled out her cell phone. “I'll video it and Ginger can watch it until she gets it right. Oooh, we can even put it up on the inn's website. I'll bet it would get a lot of hits. That would be great publicity.”

Lori shoved the folded sheet back at Ginger and turned her back to Cassidy's beeping cell phone camera.

“Turn that off, Cassidy. You know Lori is camera shy.”

Ginger had never said anything, but Lori was pretty sure her friend knew at least part of her secret. Diesel Gold, the producer of
Historical Restorations
, and Ginger's best friend, had arranged for Lori's job in Chances Inlet. Diesel and Lori had lived in the same apartment building in New York. Both had traveled in the same social circles and he'd been a frequent visitor to her restaurant. Lori trusted Diesel with her life. She didn't think that trust was misplaced with Ginger, either.

“Besides, I'm sure there's already a video like that on
YouTube anyway, Cass.” Ginger gave Lori a reassuring smile before she picked up another sheet from the laundry basket.

“Isn't this a homey scene,” Coy said, entering the kitchen through the screen door. “Maybe we should get Greer to film a spot with Miles here in the kitchen. I'm sure he could pull off domestic god.” Placing his tablet on the island, he grabbed a leftover muffin and peeled off the wrapper. “Ginger, Miles says he doesn't need any makeup but you know what a television camera can do. Can you maybe work your magic on him?”

“Great, she gets to get out of folding laundry, but I don't get to help at all.” Cassidy had been sulking all morning when Coy rebuffed her offer to help with some of the campaign spots.

Coy let out a beleaguered sigh. “You can grab a couple of bottles of water for Greer and her crew if you really want to help, Cassidy.”

Cassidy didn't even bother looking up from where she sat at the oval table in the corner of the kitchen furiously typing on her laptop. “I'm pretty sure that falls under your job description.”

Lori exchanged an amused glance with Ginger, who grabbed some bottles of water out of the small cooler by the back door and took them outside with her.

“Lunch is being delivered from town, but if you have some of those awesome cupcakes to spare, I know Greer and her crew would appreciate it,” Coy said with a shy smile.

“Greer, Greer, Greer!” Cassidy snapped her laptop closed, tucking it under her arm as she stood. “You'd think she was the queen or something. I'm going to check on Mrs. Mac.”

Coy chuckled as Cassidy stomped out of the room. “She reminds me of my little sister.”

“Yeah, but let's not mention that to her, okay?” Lori was pretty sure the teenager had a huge crush on Miles' campaign manager. “I'll put together a dessert tray for you. Is there anything else you need?” While Coy was easygoing and pleasant to have around, he was also observant and savvy. She didn't need him initiating a game of twenty questions.

“Greer mentioned that she may stay the night. Miles said
you have two rooms open and to check with you which one you want her assigned to.”

It figured Miles would send his minion rather than speak with her directly. Since their late-night encounter more than a week ago, he'd buried himself in his campaign, limiting his duties at the B and B to checking the guests in and out. He made his rounds of the breakfast room each morning after grabbing a quick meal with his mother. But other than that, the only sightings of him were through the kitchen window when he was coming and going from his early morning workouts. Miles even changed his own towels and sheets—a fact Lori was insanely grateful for because there was no telling what she'd do when faced with the bed he'd slept in. She couldn't complain about the situation really. It was for the best, especially since both of them had trouble keeping their hands off each other.

“I'll get the Aberdeen Suite ready for her as soon as I finish with the bread.”

Patricia had named all the rooms in the inn after cities and towns in Scotland. Decorated in the rich red, black, and yellow colors of the Aberdeen tartan, the suite featured a view of the Atlantic and an antique claw-foot tub. Best of all, it was on the opposite end of the B and B from Miles' room.

Greer Rossi, with her chic wardrobe, her glossy long brown hair, and her even longer legs, had arrived at the inn earlier that morning complete with a worshipful camera crew in tow. From her vantage point within the butler's pantry, Lori watched the affectionate greeting—complete with an intimate smile—the governor's daughter had bestowed on Miles. The image consultant was barely able to keep her hands to herself throughout their breakfast for two, never missing an opportunity to touch Miles possessively. For his part, Miles seemed unfazed by Greer's excessive pawing. In fact, Lori hadn't seen Miles so relaxed and carefree in the months she'd known him. The thought made her stomach clench. She told herself that her jealousy wasn't fanned by Greer's familiarity with Miles but rather that Greer was everything Lori used to be and never would be again.

Ginger came back into the kitchen, Midas at her heels. “Greer talked Miles into some powder. Can I borrow a dish towel, Lori? I don't want to get anything on his shirt. Bernice would probably kill me.”

Coy threw the muffin liner into the trash before grabbing a bottle of water out of the cooler. “I figured Greer would convince him. She's a sweet talker.”

Sweet talker, my ass.
Lori gave the loaf of bread one last whack before tossing it into the bread pan.

“She is that,” Ginger said. “They seem to complement each other.”

“They would be the perfect couple.” Coy's voice was filled with reverence. “A match made in political heaven. Just having her on his arm could gain us five percentage points. Voters like a candidate who's settled and happy. And the male voters would definitely appreciate Greer.”

“I seriously doubt Miles is that shallow.” Ginger pulled a towel out of the drawer. “If there is something between them, I certainly hope it's not based on blind ambition.”

Coy laughed. “There's no room for romance when it comes to politics, Ginger.”

Ginger made a face behind Coy's back before they both headed out to the veranda, leaving Lori alone in the kitchen with the dog. Was there actually something between Miles and Greer? Coy was correct; the two were a perfect match. A woman like Greer Rossi would certainly enhance Miles' career. A woman like Lori would only destroy it.

An hour later, Lori stood in the Aberdeen Suite fluffing the pillows on the queen-sized sleigh bed. Voices from below drifted up through the open window. The octogenarian woman who operated the Java Jolt was being interviewed by Greer's team. Lori sat down on the padded window seat to listen.

“When Miles was a boy, we all called him ‘Little Mayor,'” the woman was saying. “He was always so responsible and compassionate. Oh, how he did love to organize things, though. And people, too.” Lori could hear the smile in the older woman's voice as she recounted a story of Miles circulating a petition to allow skateboards on the Chances Inlet
Pier. “He got all the boys together to come up with and agree to the rules of conduct they had to maintain while on the pier. He even pitched it to the City Council that it would make our town more family friendly if we allowed the skateboarders.” The woman laughed. “Of course, Miles broke his wrist the first week after the resolution passed and he had to sit and watch his friends reap the benefits all that summer.”

It all sounded so wholesome. Lori wondered how someone would describe her life. They certainly wouldn't use words like “responsible” and “considerate” to refer to the last several years, that's for sure. She possessed as much pride and ambition as Miles clearly did, only hers had fueled a need to feel accepted into a world she had no business belonging to. Guilt gnawed at her as she was reminded of the crimes she had ignored simply to realize her dream of operating her own restaurant.

Lori squeezed the pillow between her hands. Time was running out for her here in Chances Inlet. She had no business tarnishing the image of the B and B and the good people in it. As soon as Patricia was mobile, Lori needed to move on.

“I didn't realize mutilating guest pillows was part of your duties.”

Lori's head snapped around toward the suite's entryway to see Miles, leaning up against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, revealing well defined, tanned forearms. The blue of his dress shirt deepened the color of his azure eyes. The heat Lori saw in them made her mouth go dry. Before she knew what he had in mind, he was prowling across the room toward her and extracting the pillow from her hands.

“I'm just gonna rescue this little guy before you decompress all of his stuffing, okay?” One corner of his mouth kicked up into that half smile of his. The one he only gave to Lori. Everyone else—Greer Rossi included—got the full-wattage version. Just not her.

Finding her breath and her moxi, Lori stood up and snatched the pillow back. She marched across the room, deliberately putting the expanse of bed between them, and placed the pillow against the headboard before smoothing out the comforter.

“I've put your friend in here. I hope that's okay with you.”

He looked a little baffled as he glanced around the room. “I'm sure Greer will love it.”

“And will you be doing the turn-down service yourself?” Each night, Lori turned down the guests' beds, leaving a tray of handcrafted chocolates and mints on the pillow.

Miles' hands went to his hips and he shot Lori a hard look. “Is there a reason you can't do it?”

Lori mentally slapped herself for being childish. She had no right to be jealous of any relationship Miles had. There was nothing between him and Lori but a very potent attraction—one that neither one of them had any business acting on. Miles was a good man who didn't need to be saddled with who Lori had become.

“I just thought . . .” she said sheepishly.

“You just thought wrong.” Miles' tone was as frustrated as Lori felt. “Greer and I are friends.
Without
benefits.” His tone softened. “I think I've made it clear that I'd rather peel back the layers on you.”

His statement shocked her and Lori sucked in a breath. “Stay the course, Miles,” she whispered. “She's good for you.” Her words were meant to encourage him as much as herself.

“And you're not.” It wasn't a question because they both knew the statement was true.

“No.”

His sigh was heavy as he pulled his fingers through his hair. “It's not working. I need specifics.”