Page 79 of The Accidental Innkeeper

I kept flipping, my unease growing with every page. This wasn’t a glance-around inspection. This was thorough, methodical, expensive.

I stopped at the last sheet.

The total was fifty dollars.

I stared at it, looked back at the photos, and then at the total again. “This says fifty dollars…” I said slowly.

“Yes.”

“For the inspection.”

“Yes.”

I looked up. “I might not know much about construction, but I’m pretty sure that’s not a real inspection price.”

He leaned back against the doorframe, his arms crossing, far too calm for someone being caught undercharging. “It’s my rate.”

“No,” I said. “Your rate should be four hundred. Minimum. Possibly more if you used words like structural or load-bearing or oh god.”

“I didn’t use oh god,” he said. “And I charged you for my time. Not the stress.”

“That’s not how capitalism works.”

He shrugged. “It is today.”

I stared at him, suspicious. “Did you forget a zero?” I didn’t like owing money or anything to anyone. No matter how fabulous that kiss was, I wasn’t a charity case.

“No.”

“Lose a page?”

“No.”

“Is this some kind of small-town hazing ritual?”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Do you ever think before you speak or just say whatever comes in your head.”

I shrugged. “Sometimes I use a filter, most times, I don’t.” I glanced at the other pages. “And these?”

“Contractors I trust,” he said. “Roofing. Windows. Plumbing. Minor electrical. People who won’t disappear mid-job or triple the bill because your inn has… personality.”

I snorted. “That is a polite way to describe it.”

“They’re good,” he added. “They’ll treat the place right and won’t screw you over.”

I swallowed and folded the papers carefully, like they might bite. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know.”

I studied his face. It was such a lovely face. “Well,” I said because silence was dangerous, “thank you for not financially obliterating me before lunch.”

“You’re welcome.”

We stood there for a beat too long. The air felt thick again.

“This doesn’t mean I’m easy,” I blurted.

He blinked. “The bill?”