Their Yuletide Promise

by Stacy Connelly

  He’d spent years trying to convince his father he was wise enough, mature enough, ready enough to take responsibility for the trust left to him by his maternal grandfather. Only to be shot down time and time again.

  He knew the hollowed out, frustrated, helpless feeling, and it pissed him off for both of their sakes. “Your aunt’s wrong, Evie. You know she’s wrong.”

  A hint of color blossomed in her cheeks. “Yes, well, maybe you can convince her...” Her eyes widened as she quickly swallowed her words along with the rest of her martini, leaving Griffin dying to know exactly what Evie McClaren hadn’t wanted to say.

  Chapter Two

  Chugging down a second martini when her head was already spinning from the first wasn’t smart. But the temptation of alcohol was definitely the lesser of two evils when compared to the temptation of the man standing next to her.

  His faith in her went to her head faster than any drink, and for a split second, she’d considered—what, exactly? Taking Griffin James home to her aunt to prove that she did have a life?

  “Maybe I can convince her of what, Evie?”

  “Nothing, it’s ridiculous. The whole thing is ridiculous.” Had she really spilled her guts, pouring out her hopes and dreams about running Hillcrest House to Griffin James, son of hotel magnate Frederick James? The man could have his pick of five-star hotels all over the world. Her dream of taking over the tiny Victorian must seem like such small potatoes in comparison. “You couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like not to have the chance to run your family hotel.”

  “I know what it’s like not to have a choice.”

  Evie didn’t know what to make of that statement, and before she could wrap her slightly foggy thoughts around its meaning, Griffin asked, “Did your aunt say why she doesn’t think you are the right person for the job?”

  “She’s worried that I’ll spend so much time focused on Hillcrest House that I’ll forget to have a life of my own.”

  “Sounds like your aunt knows you pretty well.”

  “She always encouraged me to put my career first. For her to suddenly worry that I’m missing out on a man sweeping me off my feet makes no sense.” Especially not considering the total disaster her one serious relationship ended up being. “I don’t get it. It—doesn’t add up.”

  Evie couldn’t imagine what she’d said to make that sexy smirk appear on Griffin’s lips. “Drives you crazy, doesn’t it?”

  Though Griffin phrased his words in a question, his confidence—and that smirk—said he knew her. But that was crazy. They were practically strangers, had spoken only a handful of times. He was the exact opposite of what Evie was looking for in a man. He was too cocky, too good-looking, too rich, too...Griffin.

  And yet...no one would ever accuse him of not having a life. Raw energy all but pulsed from his pores, and standing so close to him, Evie felt, well, more alive than she had in...months? Years?

  What do you want, Evie?

  He’d asked the question like some kind of modern-day genie—or perhaps like a ridiculously sexy Santa—able to grant wishes with a single, seductive wink. And despite the answer she’d given, Hillcrest House hadn’t been first and foremost on her mind as his deep voice washed over her.

  Heaven help her, but a part of her she’d ignored, forgotten, over the past two years—the feminine, sensual part—had come alive in that moment. And it had taken every other logical, sensible, sane part of her not to answer his complicated question with one simple word.

  You. I want you.

  Just standing next to Griffin had a way of short-circuiting her brain. As if she had escaped from some kind of sensory deprivation chamber, her now starved body was soaking in everything. Or at least everything Griffin.

  The flashing neon bar signs and Christmas lights combined with the loud music and scent of fried foods should have overwhelmed her. But it was the flash of Griffin’s smile that blinded her. The deep rumble of his voice echoed in her ears. The scent of his expensive, woodsy cologne had her breathing deeper. And the thought of his kiss was more intoxicating than any one-hundred-proof liquor behind the bar.

  He was driving her crazy, but Evie didn’t do crazy. And she wasn’t going to—

  She jerked her attention away from Griffin to focus on the spindly gold-and-silver tree beside the register. “I have a plan,” she blurted out, as much to remind herself as to answer Griffin. “One to prove to my aunt that I can run Hillcrest House and have a life.”

  Griffin made a disapproving sound. “Haven’t you ever heard that life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans?”

  Evie frowned. “I’ve never understood that expression.”

  He chuckled at that. “Somehow I’m not surprised. But back to your life plan.”

  “All I have to do is show that there’s more to me than my work. That I’ve scheduled time to spend with friends and family.”

  “You’re penciling in your friends and family?”

  “Who uses pencils anymore? I have them all programmed in here.” Evie pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her skirt and then frowned at the numerous email alerts. Shoot, she’d forgotten she’d put her phone on Silent. She could have been spending the past half an hour responding... Only, judging by the way the letters seemed to dance on the too-bright screen, that might not be such a good idea.

  “So what was tonight?”

  “Tonight?”

  “I don’t see any friends or family around.”

  “Oh, tonight. Tonight was—” She sighed. “Tonight was date night.” With her phone still in hand, she held up the screen for him to see. “Only he canceled.”

  “Seriously? Your date canceled in a text?”

  Enough incredulity filled his voice that she couldn’t help feeling a bit defensive. “It wasn’t Wade’s fault. He had an emergency at work. I told him I understood.”

  She had, after all, canceled on him. Twice. Although she’d at least done so with a phone call.

  “Because work comes first.”

  “Exactly.” Evie cringed. Crap, that wasn’t what she was supposed to say. If she was going to prove to her aunt that she had something more in her life than her job, she needed to be a lot more convincing.

  “Evie, Evie.” Griffin shook his head in disappointment. “All work and no play...”

  “Makes me dull, I know.”

  She didn’t know why that admission would make his sexy grin widen even further. “Not dull, Evie.” He leaned closer as he spoke, the warmth of his breath against her ear setting off tiny shock waves inside her. “Never dull.”

  Though she could hear him perfectly, she leaned closer as if some of that easy confidence radiating from him might somehow rub off on her. His eyes gleamed despite the dim lighting, and she could almost believe she saw her image shimmering there. Or not her own image, but Griffin’s image of her. Someone smart, sexy... Someone...fun.

  “In fact, I was thinking to myself how...sharp you are. Sharp enough to know working hard isn’t going to get you what you wish for.”

  Evie swallowed at the phrase.

  “But playing hard will?” And why had that come out sounding as if she was seriously considering the possibility instead of completely dismissing it?

  “It’s like you said. Your aunt doesn’t think you can run Hillcrest House and have a life. All you have to do is prove her wrong.”

  She swallowed the laughter bubbling up inside her. Right, because what Santa worth his sleigh granted only a single wish? Hillcrest and a life and still one more wish to go...

  * * *

  Griffin leaned back on the bar stool, staring with disinterest at a replay of a recent college bowl game as he waited for Evie to return. He frowned as he glanced at the narrow hallway that led to the restrooms. He’d spooked her earlier. Had he needed further proof that he’d pushed her too
hard, it was sitting on the bar next to him in the form of her cell phone. He couldn’t imagine that she went anywhere without the tether to her job.

  Unable to resist, Griffin swiped a thumb across the screen. He wasn’t surprised to see a photo of Hillcrest House as the screensaver. The towering Victorian was a gorgeous property. He’d give his father that.

  But it wasn’t the lacy trim, carved columns or elegant turrets reaching toward a clear blue sky that had the breath stalling in Griffin’s throat. Instead, it was the image of Evie standing on the front steps. She was dressed more casually than he had seen her before, in a yellow-and-white-checked sundress that made her look young and—Griffin grinned, knowing what she’d likely think of the description—sweet. A small smile teased her lips, but the tiny tell gave away the pleasure and pride she took in calling the hotel home. Running it was more than a job to her.

  So much more than a job that she was willing to date some loser to make a point to her aunt. Griffin scowled at the phone before sliding it into his pocket. What kind of idiot would stand up a woman as intriguing as Evie McClaren? She’d accepted Workaholic Wade’s blow-off excuse too easily. Because her job came first for her, as she said?

  Or because some other loser had made her believe she deserved to come in second?

  A hand clapped down on his shoulder, distracting Griffin from the troubling thought. The blond man who’d egged him into placing a friendly wager on the game of pool hopped onto Evie’s abandoned bar stool. “Hey, man, good game.”

  “Just my lucky night, I guess.” Or so he hoped...

  “Billy Cummings.” After introducing himself, the man glanced at Griffin’s candy-cane martini with a look of disgust. “I feel like I should at least buy you a real drink.”

  “I already won the bet. You don’t owe me.”

  “Yeah, well...” Billy paused, tipping his bottle of beer back. “The thing is, I probably should have warned you what a competitive SOB Travis is.”

  Griffin chuckled at that. “Maybe next time I’ll let him win.”

  Billy sputtered before wiping his mouth. “You sure about that?”

  Griffin shrugged. He had a competitive streak of his own, but he’d never been a sore loser. “Yeah. Why?”

  “Because I think Travis has already set his eye on the next prize.”

  Griffin turned, following the direction of the beer bottle Billy used to point to a spot behind him. And every thought he’d ever had about playing fair, following the rules or losing gracefully flew out the window the second he saw Travis spinning Evie McClaren across the dance floor.

  He swore beneath his breath, but before he could charge through the crowd, Billy caught his biceps. At the glare Griffin shot him, Billy raised both arms in an “innocent man” gesture. “Hey, don’t kill the messenger! But as the son of the town sheriff, I should warn you that my dad has a funny sense of justice. Get in a fight and he’ll throw you and Travis into the same cell to ‘work things out.’”

  Watching as Travis’s hand moved down Evie’s hip, Griffin thought cage fighting might be in order for the night. “And?” he gritted out.

  “And if both you and Travis are locked up... Well, then, I guess I’ll be the one taking Evie McClaren home. So you might wanna think this through.”

  Griffin exhaled, as if trying to cool the jealous rage burning inside him. “So I can’t hit him,” he stated with certainty. “Not even once?”

  Billy grinned. “That’s up to you, man.”

  As Griffin pushed his way toward the dance floor, he reminded himself that he wasn’t the jealous type. He never got close enough to a woman to care that much.

  But right now, Travis was the one close enough. Close enough to murmur something in Evie’s ear. Close enough to wrap an arm around her slender waist. Close enough to feel her body pressed to his...

  And Griffin cared. He cared too damn much.

  But the moment he met Evie’s eyes over the other man’s shoulder, Griffin’s tensed muscles relaxed. Travis didn’t know it, and Evie might not even realize it, but Griffin had already won. His victory was written in the awareness of her midnight blue eyes, the slight parting of her lips, in the subtle but stubborn lift to her chin.

  Evie didn’t need someone to fight for her. She’d pick her own battles, as she had with her goal to prove herself to her aunt, and she would do so on her own terms.

  Her own terms were completely ridiculous, of course. Dates made online and confirmed—or canceled—by text like some kind of tax audit. She deserved much more than that, and now he was going to be the one to prove it to her.

  Because with that telling glance, she’d picked him.

  Travis glared at Griffin’s interruption, looking like he was ready to line up another shot. Only this time, he wasn’t planning on using a cue ball. “Back off, James. The lady and I are...busy.”

  Although he recognized a goad when he heard one, Griffin didn’t take the bait. Ignoring the other man, he kept his focus on Evie. He could see the effect of the two martinis as she swayed toward him slightly.

  Or maybe he could hope that something more powerful than alcohol was involved. Like the attraction that had drawn him out to the dance floor. Like the attraction that had drawn him to her the first time they met.

  Even in the neon glare from the beer signs and the flickering holiday lights hanging around the place, Evie’s skin had a pale glow that reminded him of moonlight. Her dark hair was straight as straw and yet soft as silk. Another fascinating contrast in a fascinating woman. She was tough and yet vulnerable. Razor sharp and yet surprisingly unsure.

  Maybe he was more like his father than he wanted to admit, but Griffin knew how to spot a weakness and how to exploit it to get what he wanted. And what he wanted more than anything was Evie in his arms.

  “I thought about what we talked about earlier, and I’ve come up with a proposition for you,” he said to Evie. Her eyebrows rose at that and he swore beneath his breath at the slip of the tongue. “A business proposition.”

  Travis snorted. “Who wants to talk business on a Saturday night?”

  Griffin didn’t bother hiding his smile as Evie eased away from the other man. “What kind of...proposition?” she asked, and all the blood pounding in his veins shot straight south.

  He’d left the business out of his proposition by accident. Why did he feel like Evie’s omission was on purpose? And he couldn’t help thinking that maybe the only weakness being exploited here...was his.

  Still, he held out his hand. “Dance with me, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Barely glancing back at her previous partner, Evie said, “Thank you for the dance, Travis. This next one is, um—”

  “Mine,” Griffin confirmed, reaching out to entwine her delicate fingers with his own. “All mine.”

  Travis swore beneath his breath, a two-time loser in the evening, but Griffin paid no attention as the man stalked off the dance floor. Victory had never been so sweet as Evie twined her slender arms around his neck. Her breath was soft and peppermint scented against his lips as she asked, “So, what is this offer?”

  “Me.”

  Her dark eyebrows gathered in an adorable frown as she tried to work out what he was saying. “Yes,” she agreed, before stating, “your offer. What is it?”

  “No, sweetheart, you don’t understand. I’m offering you my...services.”

  Evie’s jaw dropped, and it took all the strength he had not to erase the distance between them and press a kiss against her parted pink lips. He contented himself with pulling her close enough to feel the softness of her breasts against his chest and the brush of her thigh between his own.

  “I’m offering to help you find a balance between your professional and personal lives.” He congratulated himself on a phrasing that would appeal to Evie’s logical mind.

  “So we’d... What, exactl
y? Pretend to go out to fool my aunt into thinking I have a life?”

  He couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Or we could simply go out together with no subterfuge involved. Take tonight, for example—hanging out at a bar, having a few drinks, dancing... This is what having a life feels like, Evie.”

  And yet for all the living he’d done during his teens and twenties, he’d never felt anything quite like holding Evie McClaren in his arms. He couldn’t remember a time when his pulse had soared so high outside a cockpit.

  She shook her head as she swallowed and focused over his shoulder. “I’m not much for playing games.”

  “This isn’t a game, Evie. It’s a dance.”

  “I’m not sure there’s a difference.”

  A hint of vulnerability eased through a tiny crack in her brash exterior, and just like that, he knew. This was a woman who could slip through his defenses. If one of them should have been running... Hell, he should have hit the door at full speed the second she placed her hand in his. Instead, he moved closer and gave that same hand a squeeze.

  “Of course there is. In a dance, I lead and you follow.”

  “And in a game?”

  “In any game the two of us play, I would follow wherever you lead.”

  * * *

  Had someone asked Evie how far she’d be willing to go to keep Hillcrest House, she would have said she’d do anything. But never in her wildest dreams would she have expected dating Griffin James to somehow fall into that category.

  Not that she’d agreed to his plan. At least, not yet.

  And how had she’d gone from sitting alone after being stood up to suddenly having her choice of men on the dance floor? She didn’t exactly remember saying yes to Travis Parker, but she couldn’t recall saying no, either. Once she found herself in his arms, she’d hoped to enjoy herself.

  But even though it had been Travis in her arms, it was Griffin on her mind.

  Travis was handsome enough, but for all his lady-killer charm, she might as well have been dancing with—well, Wade the accountant, a man she’d chosen for his distinct lack of charm.