LITMIR.BIZ

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to have to work with this man. She needed to trust him.

      “But she didn’t believe I could do it alone. She left you control of the grounds, so I’d have someone to help me out when I got stuck.” It hurt to admit that. Carrie wasn’t sure it ever wouldn’t.

      Nate tipped his head to the side as he looked at her. “Does it really matter if you save the Avalon Inn single-handed or with help, as long as you save it?”

      Carrie knew it shouldn’t. Knew that the right answer was that it was only the Avalon that mattered.

      But it wasn’t, not to her. This was her chance—her first and only chance in twenty eight-years—to prove that she was good enough, all on her own. After a lifetime of having her dad, or uncle, or cousin, or boyfriend, or somebody step in every time life got hard, she needed this. Needed to prove to herself that she could make it on her own, for once.

      So she turned the question back on him instead. “Why do you care so much about this place, anyway? Nancy said…” She tailed off, not sure if she wanted to share the contents of the letter with him. Would he be offended at Nancy’s telling her all about him?

      “Nancy said what?” He kept his gaze fixed on her face as he sipped his whisky. Carrie shifted on the sofa, trying to get away from those slate-grey eyes.

      “She said you needed the Avalon.”

      Nate snorted a laugh. “Did she, indeed?”

      “What did she mean, do you think?”

      “It means that your grandmother wasn’t above a bit of meddling. Probably cooked the whole scheme up with my gran.” He sighed, and put his whisky glass down on the coffee table. “She knew I wasn’t…overly inclined to stay in one place too long. I figure this was her way of making me hang around a while.”

      “Why? For your grandma?” Carrie thought of the straight-backed woman with the iPod she’d met that afternoon. Moira hadn’t looked as if she needed anyone.

      “Perhaps. But I think Nancy…” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “Who knows what she was thinking? But I know she thought I belonged here. So she made it harder for me to up and leave.” He looked up at her, and Carrie reached for her whisky. What was it about his eyes that made her lose her train of thought? “She knew you belonged here, too. Why else would she leave you the place?”

      “Not all of it.”

      Nate shook his head. “No. She wanted you here. Not either of her sons, or your cousin. She didn’t want it sold, or rented out, or turned into anything except what it is. She wanted you here to rebuild the Avalon Inn. Make it great again.”

      What if I can’t? Carrie thought, but didn’t say. She couldn’t show that kind of weakness.

      “There was a financial summary in the pile,” she said instead, and Nate winced.

      “Yeah. It’s not great, I know.”

      Carrie bit her lip. “We’re going to need backers. Investors.”

      “We?” Nate asked with a grin.

      “I’m still the boss,” Carrie clarified. “It’s my inn. But I admit that you have an interest in it too. So we’re going to need to work together.”

      “I’m glad you think so.” Nate reached for the bottle of whisky and topped up both their glasses. “Where do we start?”

      “With a business plan.” Carrie thought back to all the books she’d read over the last two weeks, on running your own business. “We need to convince people we’re a great investment.”

      “Any idea how?”

      “Not yet,” she admitted. “But I think that if we can make people see what a great wedding venue this could be—”

      “Just weddings, though? Isn’t that a bit… restrictive?” Nate sat up so fast he sloshed whisky over his fingers, and brought them up to his mouth to lick them off. Carrie looked away. That was far hotter than it should be.

      “Well, no, I suppose not. We could do other events too. But like I said, weddings…they’re kind of my thing. I’m good at weddings.”

      “Is that why you haven’t been back for so long?” Nate asked, stretching an arm out along the back of the sofa. He could almost touch her, if he wanted, Carrie realised. He didn’t. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “Too busy organising other people’s weddings?”

      “Something like that,” Carrie admitted. “I worked most weekends, all year round. And my boss was kinda…” she searched for the right word to describe Anna Yardley “…evil.”

      Nate laughed. “Doesn’t everyone think that about their boss? Present company excluded, of course.”

      “Yeah, maybe. Okay, not evil. But…demanding. And often unreasonable.”

      “Sounds like your grandmother,” Nate muttered, although he grinned when Carrie raised an eyebrow. “But we all loved her, so it didn’t matter.”

      “Anna’s not very loveable. Or likeable.”

      “Then it’s a good job you’re not working for her any more.”

      “It is.” Carrie had thought of Anna, when she realised they needed investors. She could make a pretty good case for Wedding Wishes having its own bespoke wedding venue two hours from Manchester. But that would mean working with Anna again, and she just couldn’t face that. They’d find someone else.

      “So, it was Anna’s fault you didn’t visit?” Nate asked, and Carrie felt the guilt flood over her again.

      “Partly, I suppose. I mean, I really was working, most of the time. But…” she thought back, remembering all the arguments between her dad and Nancy “…there were other…tensions, too. Family, you know?”

      “Yeah, I know. Your dad wanted Nancy to give up the Avalon and retire quietly, right?”

      “Except Nancy really wasn’t the retiring quietly sort,” Carrie said with a wry smile.

      “She really, really wasn’t.” Nate laughed. “So, what does your dad think about you being here now?”

      Carrie froze. She didn’t want to answer that question. Didn’t want to get into the hideous fight at the funeral. Except…

      “You were there, weren’t you? At the funeral. So you probably heard exactly what my dad thinks about it.”

      Nate winced. “Yeah. He wasn’t exactly quiet, was he? So, is that why you’re so desperate to do this by yourself? Just because he said you couldn’t?”

      “Not just him,” Carrie muttered.

      “Right. Well, if you ask me that’s a rubbish reason. But what do I know? I’m just the gardener, after all.”

      An uncomfortable silence settled over them, stretching out in the night until Carrie had to break it.

      “What did you think I was going to do?” she asked, honestly curious. “With the Avalon, I mean.”

      Nate looked as grateful for the change of subject as she was. “There were a number of theories. You could have sold the place for development into flats, for example, leaving me as a caretaker.”

      “I’d never do that!”

      “Yeah, well, we couldn’t be sure.” Nate sighed. “Stan will be relieved, anyway. He’s been imagining the worst for weeks.”

      “You think they’ll come to a compromise?” Carrie asked, hopeful. “About the dance nights and the bridge?”

      He eyed her speculatively. “I think it will be fun to watch you try,” he said, finishing off his whisky.

      “As long as I’m entertaining,” Carrie said,

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