“No.” She smiled. “I’m a total coward, but I’m the boss. The buck stops with me.”

He studied her face. “I don’t suppose you’d agree to do it at the end of my stay?”

“Two months?” She laughed and glanced around her. “You’d be buried under your own detritus, Mr. Scott.”

“Call me Brendan. And yes, you’re probably right. Okay, then. Clean sheets and towels would be great, but until I get past this stage—” he gestured to the papers “—I’d appreciate it if we could hold off on cleaning floors and surfaces.”

“I promise not to move a single piece of paper.” She looked at the deck. “Can I load those mugs into the dishwasher, or are you doing a firsthand exploration on the growth of toxins in cold, long-abandoned tea?”

“It’s coffee. I’m a coffee guy.” He looked embarrassed. “And I don’t expect you to wash up after me.”

She decided he was really very attractive when he wasn’t glowering, and it surprised her that she’d even noticed because she’d thought she was still too bruised by Richard to care about things like that.

“I want your stay to be perfect.” She looked at the mugs again and then at the kitchen, which was pristine. “There are no dirty plates. You don’t eat?”

“When I’m deep in the book, no. At least, not what you’d call a meal. I snack. Biscuits. Those incredible croissants they sell in your café. The occasional takeout, which I dispose of afterward because I’m not a total animal.”

No vitamins, she thought. Nothing healthy. No wonder he looked tired.

“I’ll deal with the laundry, clear the kitchen and leave the rest until you ask me.” She handed him a card. “My number is on there. Call if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” He took the card from her and followed her to the door. “You run this place with your husband? I remember signing a book for him last time I was here.”

She paused on the steps. “My grandfather purchased the land and built the first cabins. It was my mother who turned it into what it is now. She’s still involved from the sidelines, but she handed over the reins to me a couple of years ago. My now-ex-husband—” she stumbled over the words because she still wasn’t used to saying them “—works for a pharma company and was never involved in the business. We’re divorced. He found someone else.”

He leaned against the doorframe, still watching her. “Then, he’s a fool.”

Was he flirting with her?

No, of course he wasn’t.

Richard was a fool. You only had to look at the way he behaved toward his daughter to know that.