Page 84 of Snowed Inn

His brows draw together. “Seriously?”

“Trust me. Hashtag PumpkinThePug is gold. Oh, and on opening night have special pricing and special drinks and make it a big fun celebration.”

I expect him to argue, or at the very least, grumble. But instead, he glances at me in this quiet, unreadable way. “I think I can do that,” he breathes. Then he smiles at me and it makes my belly flip. I’m left staring at him in silence, and every single bit of PR advice in my head has flown away.

Softly, almost like he’s talking to himself, he says, “Thank you, Maria. That’s really smart. I’ll do all of that.”

I blink. “What?”

He grins, amused by my confusion. “Nothing.”

“No, no. Say it again.” I cup my hand behind my ear dramatically. “I need to document this historic moment. Jesse Butler, taking my advice.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t make it weird.”

“It’s already weird,” I tease. “You liking my ideas? Unheard of.”

“Don’t push your luck,” he warns playfully.

I grin, feeling lighter than I have in months.

“Oh, and be sure to invite some social media influencers to opening night. The way you launch will set the tone for how people see the place. You want everyone posting about it, talking about it, making it a thing.”

He exhales, biting his lip. “Do you actually think I could do something like that? Get a lot of people to come out here?”

I gape at him. “Are you seriously asking me that? First, I work in PR, and second, I’ve seen how this town loves you. You don’t even need Manhattan to show up. If only half of the Harvest Hollow crew come out, it’ll be packed.”

“I guess you’re right,” he says as he pulls the ancient red truck to a stop in front of the inn.

When I look up, I nearly squeal with excitement. Because standing on the front porch with Pumpkin and his orange pajamas at her side is none other than Ellie.

Aiden is behind her, talking to Sawyer and pointing at something in the eaves. Argos—the ever-dutiful yellow lab—is standing near the banister with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

I jump out of the truck and rush up the stairs to hug El. It’s only been a week, but it feels like much longer. “Feeling better?” I ask.

“One hundred percent,” she replies with a smile. Then, as Jesse joins us, she leans back with a grin that’s just a little too superior.

Her eyes flick to Jesse, then back to me.

I narrow mine in return.

Don’t. Even. Think about it.

She lifts one brow in that waggly, I-know-things way, and then presses her lips together, like she’s physically restraining herself from making an inappropriate comment.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” I say, squeezing her hand as a warning.

She bats her lashes. “Oh, I feel amazing. Energized. Refreshed. Spiritually cleansed.”

“I see the sarcasm survived,” Jesse says, hands in his coat pockets.

“It always does,” Aiden adds, smiling as he steps over to our little group. Sawyer has trailed off around the porch, which makes me wonder where Charlotte is.

Jesse nods toward Ellie and Aiden. “Welcome back. The inn’s been too quiet without you.”

Ellie gives him a bright smile—too bright. “Aw, Jesse. Thanks for holding down the fort while we were gone. Charlotte said you were indispensable.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Jesse replies, kind of kicking at the wooden porch floor with his boot.