Saturday morning, I finish packing my bag and bring it downstairs to the reception area of the inn.
Mandi’s behind the desk and she smiles at me. “Ready to go home?”
“I am, but don’t let Adam hear you say home.”
She frowns. “He’s running late. Got called in last minute to assist with something at work. How about breakfast?” She steps away from the welcome stand.
Mandi still has red hair and curves, exactly as I remember. Though I haven’t caught a glimpse of her mischievous smile yet, I’m sure that probably hasn’t changed either.
“Oh, he didn’t call me.”
She tilts her head. “He didn’t? Does he not have your number?”
“He does.”
Her hand runs down my back. “You know Adam. He probably wanted to make sure I took care of you.”
“Yeah. Sure.” We both know that’s not the case.
Two days ag
