Page 36 of The Inn Dilemma (Give a Bookish Girl a Biker)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Nova

I crack up as Clover huffs at Thor’s antics over the intercom system in our helmets.

It helps deter the fluttering in my belly as Holt pulls us to a stop at a red light and reaches back to cover my thigh with his hand.

I’m already clinging to him, feeling the strength of him beneath his leather coat, but the way his hand grips my leg feels like the most right thing I’ve ever experienced.

We’ve spent every possible waking minute together for the last two weeks.

And each of those minutes makes life even better.

The roar of our biker group is deafening, and the sound sends goosebumps down my arms. This ride is exactly what all of us needed.

Thanks to this group and several other members of the Rocosa community, the Storybook Inn is officially clean, updated, and most importantly—inhabitable.

We’re surprising the crew with a pizza party bonfire complete with s’mores and hot chocolate at the Storybook Inn once we finish our ride.

“Make a left up ahead,” Holt announces over the mic.

Christian and Roxy make the left and we follow. I check behind us, and sure enough, the rest of the crew comes after us.

“Where are you taking us?” Cai asks.

“You’ll see,” I respond playfully.

“Oh boy, we’re in trouble,” Roxy says.

The rest of the group chuckles, and the sound of their combined laughs fills me with a sense of belonging I’ve never experienced before.

Holt gently squeezes my hand, almost as if he can feel the new emotions consuming me.

I rest my helmet against his back and can’t help the smile that stretches across my face.

He puts his hand back on the handlebar as we head to the Storybook Inn.

The rest of the ride is full of fall leaves, winding roads, and mountain air. As we pull into the Storybook Inn, my mouth waters when my eyes land on the boxes of pizza lining the table Aunt Birdie, Emma, and Van set up by the crackling fire.

“What is all of this?” Roxy asks after removing her helmet.

“A thank you for helping us these last few weeks,” Aunt Birdie answers, coming over to our group. “We wouldn’t have come close to finishing this fast if it wasn’t for you all.”

“Aww, we were happy to help!” Maya says, giving Aunt Birdie a hug.

“It’s the perfect night for pizza, a fire, and sweet tea,” Van says, throwing an arm over my shoulder.

I glance up at him and smile. “You’d use any excuse to eat pizza and gargle sweet tea.”

“And use lighter fluid,” Van adds before playfully bumping me with his hip.

I duck out from under his arm and make my way over to Holt, who has his arms crossed and looks like he’s ready to rip Van apart.

The moment I’m within his reach, Holt grabs my hand and pulls me into a hug, then lays claim to my lips. “I don’t like when another man touches you.” There’s a hint of danger in his tone.

“Van is a work friend. Nothing more.” I slowly slide my hand up Holt’s chest, then loop both arms around his neck, needing to rise to my tiptoes to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’m very much taken. He knows that.”

Holt’s grip on my waist is possessive, and it sends a jolt of excitement down my spine.

“I know I gave you my blessing, but I’d really appreciate it if you two didn’t make out in front of me,” Chris says as he and Roxy come over, one of his arms around her shoulder.

My cheeks heat. “We weren’t making out. I just wanted to make sure Holt knew I was all his and he didn’t have anything to worry about with Van.”

Chris motions with his head toward where Van is now talking with Aunt Birdie. “I’m glad that boy didn’t dig his claws into you.” Van is the type of guy I would have flirted with back in high school. Clearly, my brother hasn’t forgotten what used to be my type.

“Van is a good guy, but not the one for me.” I look up at Holt, who stares down at me adoringly.

“Aww, you two are so sweet,” Roxy says before resting her head on my brother’s shoulder.

Christian clears his throat. “Well…”

Roxy, Holt, and I laugh until two familiar silhouettes emerge from around the corner.

“Mom? Dad?” Christian says .

Roxy stands up straight, then stiffens beside him.

Dad surprises me with a smile that’s only partially forced. “Birdie told us the good news and invited us.” He slides his hand into Mom’s palm. She looks over at him, and the smile she wears warms my heart.

“I’m really happy you’ve come,” I say, before walking over and embracing both of my parents at the same time.

They stiffen at my burst of physical affection, but it’s only a momentary awkwardness before they wrap their free arms around me.

Mom cups my cheek gently with her warm hand. “I’m so proud of you, Nova,” She smiles and uses my nickname. “Daughter mine.”

Her words warm my heart.

Dad looks slightly uncomfortable but turns his attention to Roxy. “Roxy, I’d really like to talk to you.” Dad directs the next question to Christian. “Would you mind?”

Chris looks at Roxy with an expression that asks if she’d be okay with it. She dips her chin.

“Sure.”

Roxy and Dad head toward the drinks table, too far away to make out whatever they’re saying. I can tell even from this distance that Dad’s usual cool demeanor has been replaced with something like remorse and…humility.

I look over at Chris, whose gaze never leaves his wife, then over at Holt and Mom, who also have their attention on the pair.

It’s less than a minute before Roxy and Dad make their way back over to us.

Christian takes Roxy’s hand and whispers something to her. She nods with a soft smile .

As the next few minutes unfold, more members of our little town filter into our shindig. Aunt Birdie takes the little stage Van set up with a microphone and taps it. The sound reverberates through the speakers sprinkled around us.

“Excuse me,” she says into the mic.

The crowd goes silent and focuses their attention on her.

She smiles bigger than I’ve ever seen before.

“I have invited you all here as a thank you for all you’ve done for me and this inn.

The home of the Storybook Inn has been in the Graves family since the founding of this town.

Ella Mae and Frederick Graves were two extraordinary people, and I’m proud to have married into their family.

Thanks to Holt and Nova, Ella Mae’s dreams of a literature-themed home have been brought to life.

As you all know, the incident that happened here several weeks ago was devastating.

But thanks to all of you, the inn wasn’t down for long.

Thank you so much”—Aunt Birdie pauses to wipe a tear from her eye— “for taking time out of your days, out of your lives, to help me recover this inn. Thank you for taking this inn dilemma and turning it into something even more beautiful than the original. This little clambake”—we all chuckle at her term—“doesn’t come close to telling you all how much I appreciate the hard work you each poured in to help bring the Storybook Inn back to life.

” Aunt Birdie takes a deep breath. “With all that said, I’d like to ask my nephew Holt to come up here and bless this food. ”

Holt squeezes my hand he had taken at the start of Aunt Birdie’s speech and walks up to the stage. He pulls his hat from his head then Aunt Birdie hands him the mic .

“If you’ll all bow your heads as we go to the Lord in prayer.

” Holt looks across the crowd, and once everyone is silent, he blows out a slow breath.

His tone turns reverent. “Dear Heavenly Father, I come to You humbled beyond belief. You have blessed me with a community of selfless individuals who have come together to restore this building, and in the process, restore relationships once thought broken beyond repair. I praise you, Father, for all You’ve given us.

We thank you for this food and ask that You bless it to our bodies.

Thank you for Rocosa and the family we’ve found in each other. In Jesus’s name we pray, amen.”

My throat constricts with emotion at Holt’s heartfelt prayer. When I look up and catch his gaze, my heart hammers in my chest at the expression I find there.

Once everyone has eaten their fill of pizza and drank their share of sweet tea, Dad comes over to the table where Holt and I are sitting.

“Nova, can I speak to you privately?” Dad asks.

Even though I believe my relationship with Dad is truly on the mend, years of his manipulation and control will take more than a few weeks to unwind.

I’ve forgiven him, but forgetting all he put me through will take time.

And it will be a while before I don’t have the assumption he has some sort of ulterior motive.

“Sure,” I answer cautiously.

Before I can stand, Holt squeezes my hand. I look at him and try to convey that I will be all right.

I follow Dad to the porch of the Storybook Inn, and we take a seat on one of the benches. Despite the changing colors of the trees around us, the shrubs lining the porch remain their vibrant green.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?” I ask when Dad has remained silent for too long.

There are tears in his eyes when he faces me.

“I just wanted to say that I’m so grateful for you.

” It looks like he wants to say more, so I remain silent.

He gently shakes his head. “I didn’t give you enough credit as a kid or teenager.

Or take your art seriously. But I saw the mural you finished in the master bedroom, and Nova, I couldn’t be more proud. ”

The words strike me, and I find myself inhaling a surprised breath.

“Thank you, Dad. That means more to me than you know.”

He rests his arm across the back of the bench and leans back. “Come here.” He motions with his head for me to scoot closer. So I do.

Dad grips my shoulder, and I tuck myself into his side.

I could count on one hand the number of times we sat like this when I was a little girl.

A father showing physical affection was not on Kent Price’s list of fatherly duties.

Even though this is the first time he’s done this in over a decade, a small piece of my broken inner child heals.

He blows out a breath before saying, “God has been working on me ever since you came home.” I shiver, and he rubs my shoulder and then continues. “I’m sorry that I turned you away when you showed up on our door.”

I look up at him, trying to convey the sincerity of my next words with my expression. “You’ve already apologized. I forgive you, Dad. And I’m sorry for running off when I was nineteen with stupid Beau. You were right about him.”

“I wish I was wrong. I wish he truly had your best interests at heart and not his own.” My breath halts in my lungs.

His voice is thick when he adds, “But I’m grateful you and Holt found your way to each other.

He will always put you first. Even when you were kids, he was there for you when no one else was. And I’m sorry you needed him so much.”

Nothing could stop the small sob that leaves my lips. “God blessed us with Holt. He’s amazing, and I’m so grateful for him.”

Dad glances over the shrubs toward Holt, who’s standing and talking with Des. “He did.” Dad turns back to face me. “There’s something else I wanted to tell you.”

My heart pounds in my ears. “Yeah?”

He nods, and the smile that lights up his face is so unexpected it almost takes my breath away. “They found me a donor.”

This isn’t news to me, but I act surprised anyway. “That’s wonderful!”

“If all goes to plan, I won’t need dialysis and I can live the rest of my life the way I should have lived it before my diagnosis—spending quality time with my wife, kids, and community.”

My heart overflows with the goodness of God.

Dad has made a massive change over the last few weeks.

Going to meet with the Christian counselor of our church and meeting with the marriage therapist has helped push him closer to Jesus.

Our relationship is far from perfect, and I know we’ll have rocky days ahead.

But we all have something we didn’t have last time—Jesus.

And even though becoming Christians didn’t make our problems disappear, we have the King of Heaven walking with us and the Holy Spirit living in us to restore what has been long broken.

Holt hit the nail on the head—God has restored and will continue to restore.

Tears fill my eyes. “I can’t wait to see what the future holds for our family.”

“I can’t either. Your brother has exceeded my expectations as CEO, and I will be taking a huge step back from the company from here on out. I have an adopted grandson, daughter-in-law, and daughter who I’d like to get to know better.”

A lone tear rolls down my cheek. Dad’s face falls when he spots it. The hardness I once saw in his eyes if he saw me cry is mostly gone. There’s still a hint of it, old habits die hard, but the tenderness of his touch when he wipes it away tells me we’re on the right path.

Holt makes his way over.

“Is everything okay?” Holt asks, looking from me to my dad. His expression tells me he’s ready to go to battle for me. And that makes me fall a little bit more in love with him.

I sit up straight, wanting to set Holt at ease as fast as possible. “Yeah, we were just talking about what life is going to look like ahead. And how grateful we are that God brought you to us when He did.”

Dad stands and shakes Holt’s hand. “I’m sorry she needed you so much as a kid because of my failures, but I’m grateful she had you then.”

“She’ll always have me,” Holt says with conviction. Then he looks at me. “Always.”