LEAD ME ON by Julie Ortolon (best pdf ebook reader TXT) 📗

came from generations of cooking, a fragrance that had captured Allison’s heart when they’d first toured the house. Now it held a year of memories as well, of their struggles to buy the neglected old mansion and restore it to its former grandeur. The place was so much more than a business to them. It was a symbol of family. A home where they could stay together, always, rather than scatter as most siblings did.

“Pecans.” Rory nodded. “I can melt some chocolate, stir in some butter, sugar, a little cream...”

Adrian spread his arms to guard the cabinet that held his baking staples. “Don’t even think it. I have three orders of brownies to fill for the other B and Bs.”

“Beer nuts?” Rory tried, her blue eyes hopeful.

Adrian hesitated a fraction of a second. “Uh, fresh out. Really. I swear.”

“Aha! You have beer nuts hidden somewhere.” Rory waddled through a door that led to a back hall, where a food pantry was tucked beneath the main stairs. “Where are they?”

“Get out of my pantry this minute, Aurora St. Claire.” Adrian hurried after her.

“Aurora Chancellor,” Rory corrected.

“Whatever. Those nuts are for my poker game tomorrow night. Touch ‘em and you’re a dead woman.”

“Just tell me where you hid them, Adrian, and no one will get hurt.”

Allison buried her face against Sadie’s fur to stifle a laugh as she listened to the two of them argue in the pantry.

“No, Rory, they’re for the guys,” Adrian insisted.

“Pleeeeease, I’m begging you. You’re dealing with a desperate woman here.”

“I said no.”

“Okay, if not for me, how about for your niece? You wouldn’t deprive an innocent, unborn child of peanuts would you?”

Allison heard a pause before her brother gave in. “Oh, all right, but I swear I’m getting a padlock for the pantry.”

“Mmm, thank you. Mmm.” Rory returned to the kitchen a moment later digging a hand into a canister with a homemade label. Adrian had written the word “poison” in black marker and even drawn a skull and crossbones, which should have been a dead giveaway.

Adrian reappeared, shaking his head in disgust. “We need to do something, Alli. Enroll her in Nut Eaters Anonymous or something. The situation is clearly out of control.”

Allison gave Sadie a final pet before standing. “Somehow I think it will take care of itself once the baby’s born.”

“Man, I hope so,” Adrian said.

“In the meantime ...” Allison let a smile blossom over her face. “Guess who just checked in?”

Curiosity lit Adrian’s eyes when he saw her expression. “Are we talking about someone besides the Mr. Scott we’re expecting?”

“Nope.” She shook her head. “But Scott isn’t his last name.”

“He showed up? Thank goodness.” Rory sighed as she lowered herself into a seat at the worktable. The windows at her back framed the sun-drenched trees and yard behind the mansion. “Although I’m still sorry for doing such a sloppy job taking the reservation. It’s just that the day he called, I was about to go down for my afternoon nap.”

“More like afternoon coma,” Adrian mumbled.

Rory wrinkled her nose at him. “So I get a little tired halfway through the day. I swear, though, I didn’t even realize I hadn’t taken down his full name until I woke up. Which was when I realized I hadn’t asked for his phone number either, so I couldn’t even call him back.” She settled deeper into the chair with the can of nuts on her stomach. “Sometimes I think being pregnant causes temporary brain damage. At least I hope it’s temporary.”

“Never mind that now.” Allison gave her sister a sympathetic smile. “He showed up, so we didn’t lose any money by holding the room. Now, try to guess who he is.”

“Give us a hint,” Adrian said as he carried the mixing bowl and baking utensils to the sink.

“Okay. One hint,” Allison agreed as she automatically moved forward to help with the dishes. “He’s an author.”

Adrian tipped his head in thought as he grabbed a soapy sponge and started washing. “Well, it can’t be F. Scott Fitzgerald, since he’s dead.”

“Unless Marguerite is inviting ghosts over,” Rory pointed out. When Adrian gave her an older-brother-to-irritating-little-sister look she just shrugged. “It could happen.”

“He’s definitely not a ghost,” Allison said, rinsing each item her brother handed her.

Adrian thought a bit more. “Orson Scott Card, the sci-fi writer?”

“No.”

“M. Scott Peck?”

“No.”

“Scott Lawrence?”

“Yes!”

“No kidding?” Adrian’s eyes went wide.

“Would I kid about something like this?” Allison said. “And, get this, he says he’s here to work, which I guess is why he’s staying so long.”

“So he’s really staying a whole month?” Rory asked.

“Yep,” Alli answered.

“Well, thank you, Marguerite, for small favors,” Rory said, referring to the good luck Marguerite brought. The inn was taking off nicely, but they were still in the first year of business, when every penny mattered. Renting the Baron for a month would definitely help their cash flow.

Adrian let out a laugh. “Scott Lawrence writing a book while staying at our inn. Talk about publicity.”

“It gets better.” Alli smiled as she dried the mixing bowl. “He told me the house in Ghost Island is based on this house. He and his sister broke in here as kids and stayed the night. Which is what gave him the idea for the book.”

“Oh man.” Adrian looked to Rory. “That has to go in our brochure.”

“You got it.” Rory nodded since publicity was her department. They each handled a different area of running the business. Rory took care of promoting the inn and renting the rooms, her husband, Chance, served as bookkeeper and business manager, Adrian cooked, and Alli ran the gift shop. When it came to making the guests welcome, though, they all pitched in as needed.

Just then, a dark blue BMW pulled up by the back entrance, and Rory’s eyes widened like a kid about to be caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She glanced around for a place to hide the can of nuts. At the sound of the back door opening, she slammed the lid on the can