Page 19 of Illinois Innkeeper

When Mrs. Swindell emerges from her modest home with a tray of lemonade glasses, we all take a break and greedily guzzle down the chilled beverage.

“It’s really kind of you to help me out like this,” the normally grumpy woman says.

“We’re happy to be of assistance,” Graham tells her as he sets his empty glass back on the tray and picks up the paintbrush that he’s been using to touch up her front window’s frame.

He doesn’t mention that it was his idea to come clean up her yard and perform the minor outdoor repairs her house needs.

When I told my crew that the older woman had received a warning letter from her homeowners’ association about the lack of maintenance and upkeep on her property, they all quickly volunteered to come help us with the work.

“Well, I appreciate it,” Mrs. Swindell says before heading inside with the empty glasses. Proving that she’s still as cantankerous as ever, she turns back and warns us in a stern tone, “Don’t trample my flowers.”

We aren’t back to work for long when Graham’s cell phone begins ringing. There is a definite smile in his tone when he answers, “Hi, Camille!”

Tucker raises his brows in my direction as Graham walks away to have some privacy for his call, but I shake my head to let Tucker know I’m not worried. Camille sounds like a pretty lady’s name, and there is no denying Graham sounded happy to hear from her, but I have complete faith in my man.

After a few minutes, Graham returns. Without me having to prompt him, he says, “That was Camille, a childhood friend who grew up with us in our neighborhood. She lives in Indianapolis now, and she was hoping I’d be the bachelor of the month for a matchmaking group she belongs to.”

Tipping his head to the side, he explains, “Actually, her first choice was Gavin, but she already knew from the internet that he’s unavailable. So, she was going to settle for me, since I live fairly close to Indy.”

His light chuckle doesn’t sound at all bitter about being second choice to his famous brother.

For the first time, a bit of insecurity creeps in and threatens to devour me. Staring down at my work gloves, I squeeze the manual clippers I’ve been using to trim the overgrown hedges.One-two-three… four-five-six… seven-eight-nine.

Trying my best to keep my voice even and steady, I ask, “Are you going to do it?”

Graham immediately sidles right up behind me and wraps his arms around me. He hugs me tightly from behind as he murmurs near my ear, “Of course not. I’m taken.”

The rumble of his words sends a delicious shiver down my spine. Unable to keep my curiosity at bay, I ask him in a quiet tone, “If we weren’t together, is Camille someone you would date?”

“No, way,” he answers immediately.

I turn to face him, so I can gauge his sincerity.

Seeing my questioning look, he adds, “I could never date Camille. She’s too much of a drama magnet. In fact, the reason we hung up so abruptly from our call is because she had a pig at her door.”

“A pig? You mean an actual, real pig?!?” I ask, almost certain that I must be misunderstanding.

“I think so,” he answers, shrugging his wide shoulders.

We share a chuckle at the mental image before I say, “Well, she sounds interesting.”

“That’s one word for it,” he agrees.

“My life isn’t nearly that exciting,” I admit, although I’m sure he has already noticed that.

“Ourlife is perfect because I get to be with you,” he whispers.

Delighted by his marvelous response, I tip up on my toes and press my lips to his.

Tucker walks by and grumbles in a droll tone, “Get a room.”

I squeal in surprise as Graham sweeps me into his arms and responds, “Great idea.”

The guys on my crew all pause the finishing touches on their work and turn to watch as the love of my life carries me to his Jeep and whisks me away into our happily ever after.

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