“I’m emotionally attached to this place.”

“Even if it’s going to be like living inside a piece of bubble gum?”

“Hey, don’t knock this room.” He patted the pink wall. “I lost my virginity in this room.”

“What about the canoe?”

He loved how into the canoe she was. They went out on it almost every day. “We can keep it at Jake’s.”

“Okay, then,” she said through a noise that seemed like it was half laugh, half sob.

“Okay, then,” he echoed. He almost marveled over how easy that had been, but he stopped himself. They were due for some easy.

“What time is it?” she asked.

He glanced at his watch. “Six twenty-five.”

“So that’s like five minutes until Law is ready for us.” She raised her eyebrows, issuing a silent challenge.

He raised his eyebrows back, pretending he didn’t know what she was getting at.

“I was just thinking about last time I had one of Law’s grilled-cheese sandwiches. You remember?”

“Oh, I remember.”

“You told me then you could be fast.” She pressed her lips together like she was trying not to laugh. “But five minutes? That’s probably asking too much, even for you.”

He pointed to the bed. The time for talking was done.

It was not asking too much for Sawyer, it turned out.

As they entered the dining room, Eve felt like everyone knew what had just gone down in the pink room. And to be fair, Maya, Jake, and Law probably did.

Hopefully, though, her parents did not. Her mom waved her over. “Honey, we saved you a spot.” It was between her mom and dad, and she went and sat, her heart full.

“This place is lovely,” her mom said.

“Turns out Lucille knew what she was talking about.” Eve turned around and let her eyes find one of Lucille’s sad mermaid posters. She’d kept some of the sad mermaid stuff and some of the happy mermaid stuff. Enough to keep some continuity with the past but not enough to weigh the place down. With the addition of her plants and her books, it felt like the perfect mix. She was a bit worried about money—as in, she had none. But she’d sat down with her parents, Sawyer, and a spreadsheet, and they’d figured that between a small mortgage on the inn and the higher rates she’d be able to charge for the new rooms, she’d be okay. And Maya, ever entrepreneurial, had some ideas for more theatrical events in the inn that would bring in income they’d split.

And hey, maybe she’d start charging her boyfriend rent now that he was going to be living here. She grinned and raised her glass. “To Lucille.”

“To Lucille,” everyone echoed.