by Olivia Miles
“I’m not thinking about Brendan,” she said firmly. And she wasn’t. She was thinking about Max.
“Good, because all you should be thinking about right now is what you’re going to wear on your date.”
“It’s not a date!” But even as she protested, Holly couldn’t resist the warm glow that filled her.
“Then what would you call it?”
Holly considered the question. “Companionship.”
Abby chortled. “Oh, please. A man like that does not need companionship.”
“What does he need then?”
Abby pulled a face. “I think you already know the answer to that one. Believe me, there’s only one reason that man is hanging around you so much, and it isn’t because he’s looking for a friend.”
Holly bit her lip and considered Abby’s point. And hoped to God she was right. She studied her reflection in the mirror and smiled with anticipation. She hadn’t felt this nervous or alive in longer than she could remember, and her heart was hammering with possibilities. She hadn’t been alone with Max in anything other than a professional setting and she suddenly felt seized with the terror of finding nothing to talk about other than the inn. She supposed they had managed just fine at the diner, but then Lucy always had a way of putting people at ease.
“You’re frowning again,” Abby pointed out.
Holly shifted her eyes to Abby’s reflection and smiled through a sigh. “That better?”
“Nervous?”
Holly felt her shoulders slump in resignation. “Just a little.”
Abby’s smile widened and Holly could see her eyes begin to dance, even from this distance. “Good, that means you like him.”
Of course I like him, Holly thought. “It’s just been a while since—”
“Since you’ve had any fun?”
Holly shrugged and returned to the mirror so she could add an extra bit of blush to her cheeks. She hadn’t really thought about it but, yes, it had been a long time since she’d had any fun...unless you counted knitting circles, book clubs, and Friday movie night with her married guests as fun.
“It’s just too bad that he doesn’t live closer,” Holly said, pursing her lips in displeasure.
“So?” Abby quipped. “A hot guy has asked you out to dinner tonight, Holly. When’s the last time that happened?”
Holly pinched her lips and narrowed her gaze at her friend. Abby knew exactly how long it had been and she wasn’t about to help prove her point.
“Take it for what it is, Holly! You get to dress up, go out, and have fun. And maybe if you’re lucky, the date will last straight through to morning,” she added with a mischievous grin.
Holly picked up a cosmetic brush and tossed it in Abby’s direction. “Stop it!” She laughed, but she knew Abby wasn’t joking.
“What?” Abby cried. “Come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. The man is gorgeous, Holly...you may as well enjoy him!”
Holly shook her head firmly. “I’m not looking for a one-night stand. You know what I’m looking for.”
Abby met her sharp gaze and tipped her head in response. “I know...but all I’m saying is...be open-minded. You’ve been sitting here alone night after night for as many years as you’ve been running this inn.” Abby lay back on the bed and dramatically ran her hands over the cotton comforter. “Has this bed ever experienced anything more exciting than a pair of flannel pajamas and a romance novel?”
Nope, Holly thought, but she couldn’t help but laugh. Abby had a point—Holly had closed herself off to love over time. But was Max really the one to make her open to the idea of it again?
* * *
Max was already waiting in the lobby when Holly came around the corner at their designated meeting time. He was dressed casually, in dark jeans and a charcoal cashmere sweater. A heavy parka was slung over his arm along with a scarf.
Holly glanced down at her own ensemble, feeling grateful that Abby had stuck around to help her pull together her look. Gone were the uptight work skirt and heels. In her slim-fitting jeans tucked into knee-high leather boots and a black V-neck top, Holly figured she looked equally ready for a night out with a new friend...or something more. As Max’s eyes roamed appreciatively over her, she couldn’t help but hope it might be the latter.
She smiled shyly. She was attracted to this man like she had never been attracted to any other.
“You got some new clothes!” Holly pointed to the hat in Max’s hand.
His face lit up in response to the recognition. “I picked these up in town today.”
Understanding took hold. “Ah. So that’s when you met Bobby Miller. Interesting kid, that one.”
Max shrugged into his heavy coat and zippered it closed. “I warmed up to him by the end,” he admitted. “He sort of reminded me a little of myself at that age.”
“Really?” Holly hadn’t seen that one coming. She couldn’t think of anyone who seemed more different than Max than the Miller boy. Max was...well, every adjective Abby had cited earlier that morning. Dashing. Smooth. Warm. Bobby Miller was just...unpleasant.
She couldn’t see Max ever behaving that way and she wasn’t sure she wanted to either. Allowing Max to hold the door open for her, she crossed into the cold evening. Snow fell softly on her uncovered head.
“What’s this?” Max scolded, lifting a lock of her hair and then letting it drop back against her coat. “You don’t have a hat? My, my, Miss Tate. And here I thought I was unprepared.”
Holly hadn’t wanted to look too casual on her possible date and she now realized her error. “I forgot,” she lied with a smile. “It’s okay.”
Max questioned her with his eyes. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.” Holly climbed into the passenger seat of Max’s car. She hadn’t even considered driving into town. Somehow, without a word, Max had taken charge of the evening.
It felt nice to be the one being taken care of for a change.
“So tell me more about your exchange with Bobby,” Holly said, once Max had turned the car off the driveway. She placed her hands in front of the vents to warm them. “I have to admit that I see absolutely no resemblance between the two of you.”
Max gave a small smile. “You mean you don’t think I have a chip on my shoulder?”
Holly laughed. “No.”
“Joking aside,” Max said, flicking on the windshield wipers, “I wasn’t that much different at one time. I don’t know Bobby, of course, but it seemed to me like he wants more from life than Maple Woods can offer.”
Holly bridled. “Gee, thanks.”
“Oh—Holly, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Beside her, Max winced.
If he wasn’t so damn cute... “It’s okay. I know what you meant.”
But something inside her twisted. Max had a point about Bobby. Maple Woods didn’t offer much. Certainly nowhere near the amount of opportunities that a major city could. If Max saw something of his younger self in Bobby, then it must have meant that a town like Maple Woods wouldn’t work for him. That he could understand why Bobby would want to leave. That Maple Woods wasn’t glamorous enough.
Already sensing the evening was headed in a disappointing direction, Holly changed the subject, feeling suddenly weary and deflated. “There’s a tree lighting in the town square tonight. They always do it the Friday before Christmas.”
A long pause followed as Max said nothing. Holly shifted uncomfortably in her leather bucket seat, regretting the suggestion. Max had invited her out, and if city life was something he seemed to so clearly prefer, a tree lighting was probably hardly his idea of an exciting time.
Holly chewed the inside of her lip and battled with the pang in her chest. She had been looking forward to that tree lighting, but she was hardly going to trade it in for a
chance to spend the evening with Max.
Finally, Max’s warm, thick voice filled the silence. “I have to say, that I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone with so much holiday spirit.”
The observation was pleasant but Holly detected a subtle, underlying edge. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”
“Eh.”
“You don’t celebrate Christmas?”
“Not if I can avoid it,” Max said simply and Holly’s stomach clenched. It was one thing not to celebrate the holiday, and it was another to actively dislike it. She considered asking Max the reason behind his lack of Christmas spirit, but decided to let it go. The night was already off to a shaky start as it was.
Slumping back into her seat, Holly stared passively out the window at the snow-covered trees, but as soon as Max turned the car onto Main Street, she couldn’t help but smile.
The entire street was illuminated by strands of lights wrapped around every lamp post and tree and draped over each shop awning. All along the sidewalk, a festival of lights had been assembled in every color of the rainbow. Santa and his sleigh. A slew of tiny elves. Snowmen, reindeer, and every other Christmas-themed notion. The effect was not short of magical, and cars in front of them slowed to enjoy the display.
“Quite a show,” Max said tightly.
“They do it every year,” she told him. Her eyes flitted from side to side, eager to take in every lighted object. “It’s one of the traditions I love most about this town.”
Max had turned to face her, and she distractedly met his stare. Even amidst the sparkle of the light show, she could see the blaze of mirth in his eyes at her reaction.
“I’m sorry,” she chuckled, collapsing against her seatback. Her cheeks colored fiercely, and she was grateful he wouldn’t notice with all the red lights pouring in from the window. Laughing at herself she said, “Maybe you’re right. I really do have more Christmas spirit than most.”
Max spared her a lopsided grin. “You’re forgiven. Besides, it’s kind of cute.”
Holly’s mouth snapped shut. She had forgotten what she was about to say. She merely stared. Her ability to speak, gone. Max was blissfully unaware of the effect he had on her as he pulled the car to a stop and turned off the ignition.
Cute. He thought she was cute. She replayed the exact words again, just to be sure he had really spoken them.
Butterflies fluttered through Holly’s stomach and into her chest. She swallowed hard and stepped out of the car, wishing suddenly that she could climb back inside and have Max all to herself again. She didn’t want to have to share the night with anyone or anything. She wanted to focus all of her attention on him. Without distraction.
Nights like this didn’t happen often in her world, and she was determined to commit this evening to memory.
Maybe it would be a story she would one day share with their children.
She banished the thought just as quickly as it formed. Ludicrous! She was getting ahead of herself, and she of all people should know better.
“Why don’t we go over to the tree lighting?” Max suggested.
Holly tipped her head. “Oh...it’s okay.”
“Hey! I’m new in town. You’re supposed to be showing me all the local attractions,” he teased.
“But I thought you didn’t want to go.”
He peered at her suspiciously. “I never said that.”
Holly flashed back to their conversation. Perhaps he hadn’t spoken the exact words, but he had still managed to show a concrete lack of enthusiasm. “Okay, I guess you didn’t say that. But seriously, we don’t have to go. I’ve been to this every year. It wouldn’t kill me to miss it this one time.”
“So it’s a tradition for you, is it?” Max began walking toward the center of the square. The decision had been made.
Running the few feet to catch up, Holly asked, “How about you? Any family traditions?”
Max sniffed and shivered in his coat. He avoided eye contact by staring in the shop windows. “Not really.”
The answer was less than satisfying. Holly curbed a swell of frustration and tried again. “So, you’ve already established that you avoid Christmas. What do you usually do instead of celebrating?”
Max shrugged. “Work.”
Something inside Holly hardened. Work. She should have known. Why else would he be in town—on business—the week before Christmas?
Holly felt her stomach curdle with disenchantment.
So there it was. A workaholic. She knew the type all too well thanks to Brendan. Men who would rather climb the corporate ladder than be tied down with a wife and kids. Men who only wanted a girlfriend when it was convenient for them. Men who didn’t want to be held responsible for anything serious. Men who wanted to work hard and play hard without complications. She should have known, really. Max was gorgeous, unattached, and clearly very successful. It was a common combination. And a lethal one, in her experience.
Her heart contracted with each breath, throbbing with pressure as the reality of the situation became all too clear. It was too good to be true. She should have known. Max was who he was and she was not going to be the girl to try and change him. She’d been a fool once, and she’d be damned if she’d be one again.
He may be cute and rich and have a smile that could make her knees shake, but he’d break her heart without a bat of his curly, black lashes. If she let him.
They began to approach the town square with hands thrust in pockets, chins tucked in scarves, and quietly gathered with the other townspeople who were crowded below the base of a large evergreen. A children’s choir was huddled together, waiting for their cue from the elementary school’s music teacher.
“Beautiful tree this year, Holly!” someone cried out and Holly beamed.
“That’s your tree?” Max whispered, his eyes wide.
“I donate one every year,” she said. “With so much land, it’s the least I can do.”
“The owner doesn’t mind?” A frown line creased Max’s forehead.
Holly’s breath caught. “I’m surprised you would remember that I didn’t own the land,” she said, feeling slightly uneasy.
But Max just threw her a devastating grin. “I learned a long time ago that when a pretty girl talks, you should listen.”
Holly cheeks burned with pleasure and she skirted her eyes to her feet. When she dared to glance his way again, Max was scrutinizing her with an amused smile.
Relief finally came when the children’s choir suddenly broke out in song, their small, sweet voices echoing in the night air. A chill descended over the crowd as the mesmerizing, almost haunting sound filled the silence. At the last verse, the tree immediately sprang to life, and the magnificent lights illuminated the crowd’s smiling faces.
Max leaned in to her and whispered, “Cold?” The soft touch of his breath so close to her ear as he whispered such a simple question forced a rush of electricity to run the length of Holly’s body. She trembled slightly and then quickly drew a sharp gust of freezing air in a vain attempt to regain some form of composure.
Mistaking her shudder for a shiver, Max draped an arm around her shoulder. His dense parka felt like a down blanket as he pulled her in closer. “That better?”
She barely managed a nod. Max’s proximity began caving in on her, causing her body to respond in a primal way she had not experienced in a very long time. Even through the thick coat, she could feel the hard wall of his chest as he held her close, and the strong weight of his arm as it enveloped her shoulder, his hand gracing down to rest on her elbow. A flush of desire poured through her blood, heightening her senses. Her mind began to reel with the possibilities of what his body would feel like against hers and she had a swift and all-consuming urge to rip off that parka and press him firmly against her so she could properly feel the contours of
his body, and the ripples of his muscled chest.
She knew that indulging herself with these thoughts was pointless. She could never act on them. She would only be disappointed. He was leaving in a matter of days. And he had made it clear where his priorities lay. But it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy the moment...
Once the last song had been sung and the last ovation had been given, the group begin to disperse. A crowd was already working its way to Lucy’s Place or the pizzeria, not quite ready for the evening to end. Max slipped his arm from her shoulder and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m famished. Shall we?”
He crooked his arm by invitation and wordlessly, Holly slipped her mittened hand through. A surge of longing choked her, drowning her in a sea of desire and conflicting emotion. Her body ached for his touch and the sensation it stirred within her.
She knew she had only just met him. He was, for all intents and purposes, a complete stranger. A stranger here for an extended stay. A workaholic. A bachelor by his own choosing. He was wrong. All wrong.
And Holly knew all at once that she was in very big trouble.
* * *
Holly slipped into the chair across from Max and unraveled her scarf from her neck. He watched as she twisted her upper body to hang her coat over the back of her chair, her tiny waist craning, and her breasts pressing against the thin cashmere of her black sweater.
Sitting so close to her, Max felt more alive than ever. The heat of her body so close to his was so intense, the sweet smell of her flowery perfume so feminine, that it took everything in him not to reach down and graze a finger along the small, creamy hand that held her menu.
“So, just so that we’re clear, tonight’s on me.” He watched as Holly lowered her eyes and her features twisted in protest. Before she could speak, he held up a palm. “I insist.”
