“Yummy.” She smiled sleepily down at Hope. “My ex is tall, dark, and handsome. I guess I’ve got a weakness for the type.”

Hope smiled back. “Who doesn’t?”

“You’ve got that right. Is it okay if I come downstairs in the robe? I don’t think I’ve been this relaxed in six months, and I don’t want it to end.”

“Absolutely. There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen. I’ll be right in to start breakfast.”

Courtney heaved a dreamy sigh. “I love this place.”

So do I, Hope thought as she walked over to put away the hose.

And I feel a lot more relaxed myself, she realized. She’d had an actual conversation with Ryder without either one of them snapping at each other.

All she’d had to do was soak him to the skin first.

Laughing, she walked back into the inn to see to her guest.

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

RYDER GRABBED A DRY, AND REASONABLY CLEAN, T-SHIRT out of his truck, dug out his emergency jeans. He thought getting blasted with a garden hose qualified.

He carted them over to MacT’s.

“Women,” was all he said, and D.A. gave him a look that might be interpreted as male solidarity. They walked into the job music—country on the radio, as he hadn’t been there to switch it to rock—the whirl of drills, the whoosh, thud of nail guns.

He walked through the restaurant, past plumbers working in the restrooms, and into the kitchen.

Beckett stood at a prep counter consulting his plans.

“Hey. I thought since we were going down to a single door in here, we should . . .” Beckett glanced up, lifted his brows as Ryder tossed clothes beside the big grill. “Run into a sudden storm?”

With a grunt Ryder bent to unlace his boots. “Innkeeper with a garden hose.”

Beckett’s laugh blasted out as Ryder fought, cursing, with sodden boot laces. “Dude. She hosed you down.”

“Shut up, Beck.”

“What did you do, make another grab?”

“No. I never made a grab in the first place.” Straightening, Ryder pulled off his shirt, tossed it down with a sodden splat.

Standing hip-shot, Beckett grinned. “That’s not what I heard.”

Ryder sent his brother a fulminating stare as he whipped off his belt. “I already told you there wasn’t any grabbing, and it was her idea. Shut up.”

“Man, she soaked you. What did you do, chase her around The Courtyard?”

She’d soaked him, all right, right through to the boxers. Since he didn’t carry an extra pair in his truck, he’d go commando.

He stripped down to the skin while Beckett grinned at him.

“If your wife wasn’t pregnant I’d kick your ass.”

“Looks like your ass is the one with the target on it.”