Mandy glanced down at her thin but muscled forearms and fingers. Running the inn was hard work, inside and out. She took a couple of calming breaths. “I know you don’t mean that exactly the way it came out.”

Jed’s eyebrows scrunched together. “But I do.”

“You want to go down to the gun range and see who belongs in the kitchen?”

He didn’t answer, but annoyance flashed across his face.

“And why don’t you ever volunteer to help with the cooking and cleaning?” she asked. Jed’s horrified look said it all. He was her best friend, but he was a Neanderthal when it came to gender roles. Mandy glanced at her watch. It was nearly time to put out the afternoon refreshments. “Thanks for the offer, Jed, but I can finish the lawn. It feels good to be outside.”

“Dammit, Mandy. You’re only saying that because you think I’m weak.”

“I didn’t mean that.” She didn’t, though the reference to her superior shooting skills had been an unnecessary poke to Jed’s sensitive male pride. His injury had upset his expectations in life. He might never be able to return to his career as a hunting guide.

“You didn’t have to.” His head swiveled as Danny’s car parked next to his truck. Jed gave Mandy a hard look. His gray eyes bored into hers. Something dark lurked behind his gaze. Jed was usually serious and quiet. When they were alone, he could also be fun in his own gruff way. He was never hostile toward her. Could her mother be right? Was Jed jealous of Danny? Had she been wrong all these years? She searched her memory. They’d known each other since first grade. Mandy’s father had left. Jed’s mother ran out on his dad soon after. Mutual sadness and loneliness created a strong bond between them as children, but Mandy couldn’t remember treating Jed like anything but her best friend. No other relationship had ever occurred to her. “Fine. Mow your own damned lawn. I’m going home.”

He stopped at the house and called for his dog. The lab followed him to the truck but kept glancing back toward the house.

With a quizzical glance at Jed’s retreating back, Danny crossed the grass. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes.” Mandy pulled off her gloves. The lawn would have to wait until later. “I was just about to put out lemonade and cookies.”

Danny followed her to the back porch. She left her grass-stained work boots by the door and slipped into her sneakers before going inside. At the sink, she scrubbed her hands and forearms, then donned an apron. She retrieved the pitcher of homemade lemonade from the fridge and set it on the counter next to the platter of cookies she’d prepared earlier. Danny leaned on the wall, and she tried to ignore how comfortable he looked in her kitchen.