Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
"Barely," he said.
I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes at him. "Barely good? Is something wrong?"
"No. Barely morning," he said. "The sun isn't even all the way up yet. I'm only all the way up because I heard you in here and thought you might need an extra hand."
I smiled and offered him a bottle of creamer.
"I don't right now, but I definitely will later," I said.
He lifted his eyebrows as he took his first sip of coffee so I could see them over the edge of the mug. "You will?"
"Yes," I said. "I am just so excited about the bed and breakfast I couldn't sleep anymore. I've been thinking about it for so long and dreaming about everything I wanted it to be, but now that it's real, now that this house is actually mine, I wanted to feel sure I was making the right decisions for it. I realized I couldn't really plan for the entire thing and all the details when I hadn't even seen the inside of the house."
"That would make it a little more difficult," he agreed.
"Exactly. So this morning I did some research about the house. I'd seen a few pictures, but when I really got into looking it up, I found so much more. You wouldn't believe how incredible this place was when it was new. Look. You have to see these pictures."
I wiped my hands on my apron before taking out my phone and scrolling through to find the pictures of the house. I showed him just how gorgeous it used to be with all the rooms decorated and the landscaping around it meticulously cared for. My favorite picture was at the very end. The backyard was in bloom, and the gazebo was in its full glory.
"That's really beautiful," Ryan said.
"I know," I said with a sigh, turning the screen toward myself so I could get a better look at it. "I love that gazebo. I think it's such a special feature of the grounds and would be so incredible to have it back to what it looked like here. Can't you imagine guests going out there with their coffee in the morning or bringing books out there in the afternoon?"
"We could offer candlelight dinners out there for guests who are celebrating special occasions," Ryan said.
The suggestion made me draw in a breath, and I wrapped my arms around his neck for a tight hug.
"That is an absolutely incredible idea. It would be so romantic. We could create entire packages for them with flowers and special desserts. Oh! We could host holiday celebrations outside and put heaters in the gazebo to create a little warm spot. Chefs from the restaurants in town could bring their own signature holiday dessert and set them up at stations around the grounds surrounded by twinkling lights and garlands. Music. It would be so pretty," I said.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and took a few sips before checking on a couple of the things cooking.
"You certainly did get inspired by looking through those pictures," he said. "What else are you thinking?"
I looked back at him over my shoulder with an uncertain expression. "Are you sure you want to hear my ramblings? There's so much going through my brain, and I don't want to bore you with all of it, especially since a bunch of it might never even actually happen."
"Of course, I want to hear all of it. This is my big leap, too, remember. And I'm really excited about it. I'd love to hear everything you are thinking about," Ryan said.
I couldn't help but smile. He was amazing. Most other men I knew, especially those who I'd tried to have relationships with, would not be so pleasant if they were woken up before dawn by slamming around in the kitchen, and then were immediately bombarded with plans and ideas before they were even fully cognizant of the world around them.
But here Ryan was, working his way through his cup of coffee, trying to wake all the way up, and willing to listen to me ramble on with everything I wanted for this unbelievable house and all its potential. I brought the coffee pot over to him and refilled his mug. I could barely contain my excitement as I went to the side of the counter and got the notebook I'd been filling with notes and sketches as they came to mind.
The ones toward the front of the book were far more organized and neater. Those were the ones I made when I was actually doing the research of the house and could see what each space looked like back in the day when this was a glorious showplace. But after the first several pages, they got messier and more slapdash as I jotted down everything that popped into my mind as I cooked.