Page 17 of Chasing the Sun

“No one lives here.” I stood, crossing my arms and mirroring her stance.

Fire danced in her eyes at my refusal to leave. “I’m calling the police!”

I held up a hand. “You don’t need to do that.” I gestured toward the inn. “I’m the owner of the Drifted Spirit. I saw a light on and came to check it out for Stan. Sometimes we get trespassers, and his house is clear across the property.”

Relief washed over her before her face twisted in an annoyed grimace. “What are you, the neighborhood watch?” She looked down at her elbow, and I noticed a small spot of blood from where she must have banged it against the floor. “Ow ...” Her eyes moved backto me. “I’m staying here while I help Mr. Stafford revitalize things around the farm. Not that I oweyouan explanation.”

The air in my lungs seized.

Stan. The farm?

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s not possible.”

“Uh, yeah. Well, it is.” Her hands went to her hips. “We shook on it.”

My jaw locked. How long had I let myself daydream about the possibilities? I wasthis closeto taking over that damn farm. Finally expanding the inn in order to build my own restaurant.

Stan had said it himself—he was ready to give it up. We had walked this fucking property, talked about how it made sense for me to be the one whom it would eventually go to.

It could be yours if you wanted it.

But now some random woman thinks she can snatch it out from under me?

I stepped closer, my frustration leaking into my voice. “You and Stan had a handshake deal?” I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “That’s cute. Because you know who else had one?” I poked a finger into my chest. “Me.”

Sure, I was leaving out the part where I hadn’t exactlyagreedto anything, but I knew Stan was a man of his word. He was simply waiting for me to accept it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She tilted her head and plastered on a sweet smile, cutting me off. “But, clearly, plans change.”

She flashed another sugar-sweet smile that made my blood pressure skyrocket. It made me want to either shake some sense into her or pin her against the wall and see if she’d smile like that for an entirely different reason.

I’m sure to her I sounded completely unhinged, but my blood was boiling. My nostrils flared. This womanwas pushing all the right buttons, and after the day I’d had, I was in no mood for her bullshit. I didn’t care how pretty or feisty she was.

I exhaled, slow and measured. I had two choices: start a fight with this woman in a barely standing cottage, or keep my cool and figure out what the hell just happened.

I scraped a hand down my face.

Option two won out, though I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge there was some appeal to going toe-to-toe with a smoking-hot brunette.

She smirked like she’d already won—like she wasn’t standing in a house she had no business claiming. Like she hadn’t just pulled the rug out from under me without even realizing it. My fists clenched at my sides, and I took a slow breath before I did something really fucking stupid, like kiss her just to shut her up.

Something flickered in my gut. Annoyance. Attraction. A bad idea waiting to happen.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Time to go.

“Fine.” I exhaled, turning for the door. “Enjoy the rabid raccoons.”

Her eyes darted toward the dark corners of the cottage. Just for a split second, and there it was—the tiniest flicker of hesitation.

I bit back a smirk and picked up my baseball bat with a swipe.

She lifted her chin, recovering fast. “I intend to,” she shot back, voice dripping with stubborn pride.

I muttered a curse as I walked away, gripping the bat tighter than necessary.

This summer just got a whole lot more complicated.

FIVE