“Good. They’ll rag on him, which will piss Ryder off. There’s a better chance of further situations if he’s a little pissed off. And, you know, after that asshole Jonathan, Hope could use somebody a little more real.”

“Ryder’s real.” Clare broke out with a grin. “She called him snotty.”

“I know.” Delighted, Avery tipped back and howled with laughter. “And he comes back with snooty. Snotty and snooty. It’s probably wrong, but I love it.”

“If it’s wrong, I’m right there with you.” She lifted her can, tapped Avery’s. “Here’s to the promise of an interesting summer.”

SHE MANAGED TO avoid him for the better part of a week. She saw him—not that she was looking—but it was hard to miss Ryder Montgomery swaggering from one job site to another in a town the size of Boonsboro.

Into MacT’s, down to the bakery, around to Fit. She’d catch sight of him chatting with Dick the barber outside of Sherry’s, or stopping for a word with one of the Crawfords.

Here, there, everywhere, she thought with some resentment. And to avoid running into him she’d all but put herself under house arrest.

It was ridiculous.

Not that she hadn’t been busy. The inn proved popular for its first summer. She’d tended to two out-of-town authors Clare hosted for a book signing. Then there’d been the sweet couple who’d come into the area for their fiftieth high school reunion—and the young couple who’d gotten engaged in Titania and Oberon, and already talked of spending their wedding night in the same room.

So far she’d had charming guests, strange guests, demanding guests, and delightful guests. Probably everything in between, she mused as she hauled out the hose to water the flowers and shrubs.

At the moment she had six rooms booked—two sisters, their mother, and the three daughters they had between them. They’d had a fun—and rowdy—time the night before. She expected they’d sleep in before they headed out for their facials and massages.

She’d definitely plan a Girls’ Night of her own. Clare and Avery, Justine and Carolee, Clare’s mom, Carolee’s daughter. She’d have her own mother and sister come down from Philadelphia.

Some fun food, some wine, plenty of wedding and baby talk.

Just what she needed.

She soaked the mulch, pleased the Knock-Out Roses bloomed and the arching wisteria showed so prettily green. Its flowers had sweetened the air in May—and she imagined them blooming for Avery’s wedding the next spring.

She hummed to herself, soothed by the homey task, ignoring the banging and sawing from the building across the lot. In her mind she flipped through her list of morning chores, into the afternoon, the evening, and ended her day’s plans with a little research on Billy.

Perfect.