“Oh boy.” She let out a breath, holding up a hand as she eased back. “That sounds really good. Exceptionally good. But I have guests.”

What language was she speaking? “You have what?”

“Guests. Up in W&B. Walks-ins. They came to the door a couple hours ago. I tried to call you, but—”

“You’re not supposed to have anybody here.”

“I know. We were clear, but they came to the door and wanted a room. I can’t turn people away when we have room. You wouldn’t want me to turn guests away, would you?”

He stared at her. Short summer dress, endless legs, twist-your-guts-into-knots brown eyes. “Is that a serious question?”

“Ryder, it’s my job. Believe me, I wanted to say no, but I can’t do that.”

“You’re awful damn responsible.”

“Yes, I am. That’s one of the reasons your mother hired me. They eloped, or they’re in the process. They’re going to the courthouse to get married tomorrow, and they’d been driving for hours.”

“What’s wrong with a motel? I’ll take them to a motel. I’ll pay for the room.”

“Ryder.” Her laugh bubbled out, with frustration around the edges. “He wanted to give her something special since she’s not getting a real wedding. He found us on his iPad when they were at a rest stop, but he didn’t call ahead because he wanted to surprise her. They booked two nights so they can have what passes for a honeymoon because they both have to go back to work—and face their families.”

“Why did they tell you all this?”

“You’d be surprised what people tell the innkeeper. Added to it, they’re young, excited, in love, and maybe he was afraid I’d say no without a reservation without some romantic backstory. Even if it wasn’t my job, I wouldn’t have had the heart. Her father doesn’t like him.”

“I don’t like him either.”

“Yes, you do. Or you would. I’m really sorry, but—”

“What is that?” he interrupted, moving back toward the door. “Was that somebody screaming?”

“They’re at it again.” When he glanced back at her, frowned, she lifted her shoulders. “They really wanted a room.”

“That’s . . . wow.” Head tilted, he listened another minute. “We double insulated—floors, ceilings, walls. Do you always get an audio show?”

“No. No! Thank God. It’s an anomaly. I think it’s the frequency.”

“How many times can he bang her in a couple hours?”

“Not that kind of frequency,” she began, then saw him grin. “Although, ha-ha, there’s that, too. I meant like radio frequency. Plus they have the windows open.”

“Yeah?” He moved to the door, stepped out. He listened to the cries, moans, squeals while Hope tugged on his hands.

“Stop!” She struggled with another laugh. “It’s rude. It’s intrusive. Come back inside.”