“Great. I’ll package some of this to go,” she said, setting the banana bread on top of the stove.

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and Wes,” she said as he turned to leave the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“You need to tell Marissa she can’t go to that science camp this year. Time’s running out,” she said, cutting into the loaf.

Shit. His aunt was right. He needed to grow a set and be honest with his daughter.

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

The delivery truck was right on time. Bringing the B&B into the twenty-first century made sense. Sarah could still preserve its charm and uniqueness, while transforming it into a property people would want to buy. She wasn’t installing virtual reality or anything…not yet anyway. Just the basics that guests expected from other vacation properties.

She’d done her research. Countless searches and online tourism review sites had provided all the data she’d needed to finalize a list of upgrades that would make Dove’s Nest more appealing to travelers and help establish it as the place to visit along Highway 1.

A few rush overnight order shipments had cost more than she’d originally planned on spending, but adding these elements to the renovations were increasing her confidence level, and they would only help her secure the best price when the time came to sell.

“What’s this?” Wes asked, coming up behind her. He wiped his dirty hands on his jeans, and his bare chest glistened with sweat. As usual, his half-dressed state had Sarah’s heart pounding. How was she supposed to have a conversation with him when she was continually distracted by the toned, sculpted, tanned muscles?

Could she make it mandatory for her hired workers to wear shirts? Then again, she’d really only be hurting herself. This daily viewing of Wes’s hot body was the only “action” she was getting or had gotten in a long time.

“Just some stuff I ordered,” she said casually. She suspected he’d be annoyed by her plan, and she’d already decided to take care of most of the work involved with the upgrades herself—like installing the TVs in the bedrooms and internet modems, projectors and screens in the large meeting rooms, and the like. She would only need Wes and his crew for the big stuff…

He squinted to read the boxes the delivery men unloaded from the back of the truck. “Flatscreen televisions?”

“I decided the B&B could use some upgrades.”

His hands on his hips only drew her attention to the oblique muscles disappearing beneath the low-hanging denim, weighed down even farther by his heavy tool belt.

How did one even get stomach muscles like that?

“Dove never wanted televisions in the guest rooms.”