“It was a fun assignment for me.”

“You know what it needs?” Avery leaned against the far wall. “We should have the crew out on the front porch, take a picture. Frame it, set it in here. The Inn BoonsBoro crew.”

“Perfect. Fabulous idea. And when we get the furniture, the art.” Hope glanced around. “The desk there in front of the window with a laptop for guests. The big leather guest book. The amazing leather sofa, the chairs, the lamps.”

“I’ll get Justine and Carolee,” Clare began, “see what they think.”

But as she started out, war whoops echoed up the stairs. “Sounds like my boys have invaded. I told Alva Ridenour I’d come get them, bring them in for pizza. Looks like she decided to bring them to me.”

What sounded like a herd of stampeding buffalo thundered up the stairs. The women walked out in time to see Clare’s three sons charge down the hall.

“Mom! Mrs. Ridenour said she and her husband wanted pizza, too. We got to come see the hotel.” Harry, her eldest, flung himself at her for a hug, then started to race by.

“Hold it, hold it.” Clare grabbed his hand, managed to wrap an arm around her middle child as Liam hugged her legs. After giving Harry’s hand a squeeze, she hefted Murphy, her youngest, onto her hip.

“Hi!” Murphy gave his mother a wet kiss. “We did homework and had a snack and played Bendominoes and fed Ben and Yoda and Mr. Ridenour said we can each have two dollars to play Megatouch ’cause we behaved.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“We wanna see the hotel.” Liam tipped his head up. “So does Mrs. Ridenour and Mr. Ridenour. Can we go, Mom? Can we go see?”

“No running, no touching.” She tousled Liam’s already tousled golden brown waves.

“I thought I heard the troops.”

“Gran!” As one, the boys surged forward to surround Justine. She hunkered down, gathered them in, and beamed up at Clare.

“I’m Gran.” She gave each boy a mmm-sounding kiss on the cheeks. “That’s the best ever.”

“Can we see your hotel, Gran?” Murphy used his angel smile and big brown eyes. “Please? We won’t touch anything.”

“You bet.”

“How about we start at the top?” Beckett rounded the stairs, took Clare’s hand. “Ry’s down showing off The Dining Room to the Ridenours. They’ll head up in a minute.”

“Will you come, Gran?” Harry tugged Justine’s hand. “We want you to come with us.”

“Couldn’t keep me away.”

“Beckett says we get to stay here when it’s all finished.” Liam grabbed Justine’s other hand as Murphy held up his arms to Beckett. “And we can sleep in one of the big beds. Are you going to stay, too?”

“That’s the plan. First night, we’re all going to stay.”

As they headed to the third floor, Avery leaned into Owen. “Isn’t that the nicest picture? Isn’t that really, really beautiful? Clare and the boys, Clare and Beckett, Clare and Beckett and the boys. Your mom with all of them.” She sniffled a little, laid a hand on her heart. “It gets me.”

“Takes the pressure off me and Ry. I’m joking,” he said when she narrowed her damp eyes. “Mom’s crazy about those kids.”

“Lucky kids. They have three grandmothers now.”

“My dad would’ve loved them.”

“I know.” With a tug on her heart, she rubbed his back. “He was always great with kids. I remember those cookouts at your place, how he’d run around with us. I was nuts about him. Anytime he came over to hang out with my dad, he was always, ‘Hey there, Red, what’s the word?’”

She let out a sigh. “Looks like I’m sentimental tonight. Come on, take a look at what we’ve done in The Library.”

“Dad thought of you like one of his.”

“Oh, Owen.”

“He did. Your dad was like his brother, so you were one of us. He always told me to keep an eye out for you.”

“He did not.”

“Yeah, he did.” He gave her stubby, coppery ponytail a gentle yank before he stepped into The Library. “Wow. Nice job—and quick work.”

“It was all organized,” she said, and laughed. “As you well know. It needs some filling in, and I had this idea about taking a photo of the crew on the front porch. We could frame it, put it here. It’s part of the history of the place now.”

“You’re right. We’ll set it up.”

“I can take it—especially if I can talk Ryder into letting me use his camera. Let me know when everybody can do it, and I’ll be here. Where’s Hope?” she wondered.

“She went into Nick and Nora with Carolee, probably finishing up in there.”

“She’ll never finish unless somebody makes her. Go make her.” She gave Owen a nudge. “Tell her she should come over for dinner, and Carolee, too. You and Ry are probably ready for a beer and some food.”

“I’ve been ready.”

“Go get her going then. She’ll listen to you. I’d better run over and warn my crew we’re having a party of many coming in. I’ll see if I can take over the back room for you.”

“Us. You’ve got to eat.”

Amused, she angled her head. “Keeping your eye out for me?”

“I’m an obedient son.”

“When it suits you. See you over there.”

They separated, but as she passed Elizabeth and Darcy, Avery heard voices. Assuming part of the tour had stopped at that point, she eased open the door.

There was Murphy in the empty room, standing by the open door of the porch, chattering away. To no one.

“Murph?”

“Hi!”

“Hi. Baby, it’s cold out. You can’t open the doors.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t touch anything. She likes to go out so she can see.”

Cautious, Avery crossed to the door, hunched against the cold as she looked up and down the porch. “Who likes to go out?”

“The lady. She says I can call her Lizzy like Beckett does.”

“Oh.” Avery felt a chill now that had nothing to do with the open door. “Oh boy. Um . . . is she here now?”

“Right out there, by the rail.” He pointed. “She said not to come out, ’cause my mom would worry.”

“She’s got that right.”

“She’s waiting.”

“She is? For what?”

“For Billy. Are we gonna get pizza now?”

“Ah . . . yeah, in a minute.” Avery jumped like a rabbit when the door opened from the hall. Then she laughed, weakly, when Owen stared at her. “We’re just . . . I don’t know. Murphy, I hear your mom and Beck upstairs. You go on up, okay? And promise me you’ll stay right with them.”

“Okay. I just wanted to see Lizzy. She likes to have somebody to talk to. Bye!”

“Holy shit,” Avery said when he scrambled out. “I heard people—and I mean people talking, so I opened the door. All I saw was Murphy, and the open door. But he said the lady—Lizzy—is standing out there by the rail. He sees her, and he talks to her. I heard voices, Owen, not just a voice. And—”

“Slow down, take a breath.”

He came in, shut the porch door.

“But she’s out there. Shouldn’t you wait until she comes back in?”

“I think she can handle it.”

“And maybe she is back in.” Wide-eyed, Avery leaned back on the door. “That was so . . . so cool! Murphy Brewster, Ghost Whisperer. He said she’s waiting for somebody named Billy. I have got to stay in this room. Maybe I’d have a close encounter—except that’s aliens, isn’t it? Wow.”

This time Owen set his hands on her shoulders. She revved like an engine. “Now take another breath.”

“I’m okay. It’s exciting, and a little unnerving—but in a really cool way. Why are you so calm?”

“You sucked in all the excitement. Waiting for Billy?”

“That’s what Murphy said, and he seems to have a direct line. Maybe Billy’s her husband, or lover.”

“Husbands are generally lovers.”

“You know what I mean. And she’s been waiting for him here all these years. Just waiting for her Billy. It’s so romantic.”

“Sounds tragic to me.”

“No, well, yes, but romantic, too. A love that’s eternal, that lasts—because they rarely do in reality, right?”

“I don’t know about that,” he began, but she was still bubbling over.

“It holds her here because this love is powerful. It’s magic. It’s what matters most. It’s—”

The door at her back pushed open, knocking her forward and straight into Owen. His arms came tight around to balance her as she tipped back her head, looked up into his eyes. “Everything,” she finished.

He didn’t speak. They stood there, bodies pressed with the open door at her back, and the sound of running and laughter streaming down the hall outside the room.

He thought, what the hell? What the hell?

Then his mouth was on hers, and her fingers dived into his hair.

Hot and bright—it’s how he thought of her, how the kiss struck him now. Hot and bright, full of light and energy. Of Avery.

Everything went frantic, breathless, with a sharp, grinding need in his center, a heated rush under his skin. He lost track of everything else, everything beyond the taste and movement of her, the demands of her mouth, the scent of lemons and of honeysuckle.

She balanced on her toes, clamped against him like a vise while the thrill and wonder ran a river through her. She let it rage, a fast, tumultuous ride that swept her toward the unknown even as it trapped her in the moment.

He broke away first, stared down at her like a man coming out of a trance. “What was that? What was that?”

“I don’t know.” And wasn’t sure she cared, not when his arms tightened around her again. She held that shimmering instant, leaned in.

Someone banged on the door.

“Owen? Avery?” Beckett called out. “What’s going on? Unlock the damn door.”

“Hold on.” Carefully, Owen released Avery. “Hold on,” he repeated, to her this time. Catching his breath, he crossed to the door. It opened smoothly.