'Twas the Week Before Christmas

by Olivia Miles

  The corner of his lip curled into a suggestive smile. He stepped toward her, reaching out a hand to skim her waist, and Holly shuddered back a surge of fresh heat at the pleasure the small gesture ignited.

  “How about a little something to tide us over?” he asked, his voice husky with desire as he leaned into her.

  Holly lifted her chin as her lips met his. His mouth was familiar now, his lips sweet to the taste. She ran her hands down his chest, feeling the soft wool of his sweater. As Max’s strong hands cupped her hips she slid her hands higher up against the back of his neck, massaging the silky locks of his hair as she pressed her body close into his, her body throbbing with arousal and need.

  Sensing her response, Max groaned into her mouth as his tongue continued its dance. Grazing his hands lower to clutch the back of her thighs, he lifted her effortlessly onto the counter, and she parted her knees to allow him to press closer against her. Their mouths were frantic now, insatiable in the pleasure the union of their lips could bring. Max slid his hands from her hips and pulled at the bottom of her shirt until his fingers were free to wander up her bare stomach. Holly shuddered at the sensation—a long, deep quiver that pulsed the insides of her thighs. She wrapped her legs tighter around Max’s chiseled frame as his fingers splayed to caress her breast over the lace of her bra. He found the center and began to tease the bud with the tips of his fingers until Holly groaned and tore her lips from his mouth. She buried her face in the nape of his neck as he stroked her tender flesh and then slowly pulled back the flimsy fabric until his warm hand was smooth and soft against her skin.

  Tilting her head, she accepted the spine-tingling graze of his mouth against the nape of her neck, clutching the broad strength of his shoulders against her as his fingers performed their magic.

  Max sighed into her ear as her body shuddered against his. He slid his hand slowly down her stomach and glanced up from beneath his hooded brow. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes glazed as he met her heated stare. Holly’s chest rose and fell with lingering desire and with a grin, she reached over and smoothed his hair.

  Sliding off the counter, Holly ran a shaking hand through her own chestnut locks, her skin still quivering from Max’s touch. “I suppose we should eat...” She glanced halfheartedly toward the stove.

  “You certainly have a way of stirring up my appetite.” Max grinned, lifting an eyebrow and Holly felt her insides melt. Turning to the stove, he lifted a lid off a saucepan and asked, “What’s for breakfast? Mmm... French toast.” He turned to her. “Why don’t you let me serve you for a change?”

  Holly smiled. “With pleasure, sir.”

  Max plated the food, then pulled a stool away from the counter and sat down, patting the chair next to him for her to join him. She couldn’t remember the last time she had sat in her kitchen and enjoyed a meal. It was usually taken over by staff. Not that she minded, but she had to admit there was something deliciously casual about eating breakfast in this setting.

  “Are you going back to the Christmas Market today?” Max asked as he cut into his food.

  Holly took a gulp of coffee, trying to pull her mind away from the intensity of their embrace. “No, I sold out yesterday, actually. Five hundred dollars richer.”

  “Really?” Max raised a brow.

  “Why do you sound so surprised?”

  “Last I saw you were handing the jars away for free,” he said with a shrug.

  Holly stifled a smile and sipped at her coffee, unable to fully tear her mind from the experience of his touch. The sensation of his hands on her skin had only served to make her want more. She no longer had an appetite. Not for food, anyway. There was only one thing she had a taste for and it was Max’s mouth pressed firmly on her own. Listlessly, she dragged her fork over the plate. Even the waft of cinnamon and vanilla couldn’t entice her.

  “Do you have more business in town today?”

  Max paused. “Maybe. Depends how the day goes.”

  Holly nodded slowly, trying to comprehend. “You’re almost finished with it, then?”

  Max set down his fork and turned to her. “I’ll actually be disappointed to leave,” he said, his voice husky.

  Then don’t, Holly wanted to shout. Instead, she asked, “Will you still stay through Christmas?”

  Max shifted his eyes. “That’s the plan.”

  “And then back to New York,” she stated sadly.

  Max stirred in his seat and reached for his coffee mug. “Do you ever miss city life?”

  Holly had considered the question herself many times over the years, and dozens more times in the past week. There were elements of city life that were inevitably attractive: the shopping, the excitement, the din of the crowds, the buzz of the traffic. There were times when life in this small town felt almost too quiet, but those times were fleeting and rare. She made sure of that.

  “Occasionally,” she answered honestly.

  Beside her, Max’s posture seemed to shift. “Do you get back to Boston often?”

  “No,” she said. “I haven’t been back since I moved to Maple Woods.”

  Max appeared baffled, a line creasing his forehead. “Not even to visit your family?”

  “Oh,” Holly said. She hesitated, lowering her eyes and forcing a shy smile to cover the awkwardness she felt. “I don’t have a family, actually. Not...anymore.”

  She lifted her gaze to Max. He was watching her with an unsurpassed intensity, his eyes flashing with shock. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “How could you?” she asked mildly, setting down her fork. She realized that all this time she had been suspicious of Max, sensing that he was being evasive and overly mysterious, when she herself had hardly been forthcoming.

  He slid a large, heavy hand onto her knee. A tingle rushed the length of her spine and pulsed at her tailbone as he grazed his thumb over her thigh. “Can I ask what happened?”

  Holly took a deep breath and held it there. “It’s not—not something I’ve talked about in a long time, really.”

  Tears sprung to her eyes, hot and thick and precariously close to spilling over and turning her into a blubbering idiot. She forced them back. She couldn’t fall apart again. Not now. There had to come a time when she could talk about this without getting choked up. Maybe this was the time.

  “My parents died in a car accident six years ago,” she said quickly.

  “Oh, my God,” Max whispered. His hand moved from her knee to grab her hand.

  Even in the heat of her despair, she welcomed the warmth of his touch on her cold fingers. “It was...awful,” she said shakily. “We were driving back to Boston, from Maple Woods, actually, and the car hit a patch of black ice.”

  Max leaned forward. “You were in the car?”

  A knot had locked in Holly’s throat. She nodded her response, unable to speak. If she permitted herself, she could still hear the squeal of the brakes, her mother’s piercing scream, the devastating crunch of the metal. And then, almost worse, the silence. “I was in the backseat,” she managed. “It was a frontal-impact collision. The car—it crashed into a guardrail. I got out with some bad bruises, but basically walked away without a scratch. Physically, at least.”

  Max rubbed his forehead, digesting this information. “And you’ve been on your own since then?”

  Holly tipped her head to the side. “Well, I had my grandmother until she passed shortly after and left me this house.”

  “That’s a lot of people to lose in such a short period of time.”

  Holly’s mouth thinned. It definitely was.

  “But you stayed in Boston after...”

  “After my parents died?” Holly finished, sensing his unease. “I did. And I wish I hadn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “My priorities were in the wrong place. I should have
moved here to be with my grandmother. I...I didn’t realize she would be gone soon, too. I thought I had time, that life couldn’t be so cruel.... I had this boyfriend, and I thought we had a future together. I thought I was moving on with my life, moving past the hurt, looking toward the next phase instead of holding on to the past. But...it turns out I was spending my time with the wrong person. I should have been here, with my grandmother.” She gritted her teeth, thinking once again about how much she had sacrificed by pinning all her hopes on Brendan. If she had known he didn’t see a future with her, she would have come back to Maple Woods and spent the last months of her grandmother’s life at her side.

  “Everyone has regrets, Holly,” Max said.

  Oh, she knew all about regrets. And that was why she was so determined not to make the same mistake twice. She had learned the hard way what it meant to give your heart to the wrong person. Life was too precious to waste on people who didn’t truly care about you.

  Maybe that was why she was so attached to Maple Woods and The White Barn Inn. Even if these people weren’t her family, they cared about her. She knew they did.

  “I know that you think it’s a bit strange of me to get so enthusiastic about Christmas—”

  “Oh, now. I wouldn’t say that,” Max objected.

  She shot him a good-natured accusatory look and his cheeks colored with guilt. “Well, maybe I have hinted at that impression,” he admitted. “But that wasn’t entirely fair. Besides, it’s quirky. And it...it made me want to get to know you.”

  Holly’s heart leaped at his confession. Maybe he wasn’t the Scrooge she had come to believe him to be.

  “But what does all this have to do with your unbridled passion for Christmas?” he asked, and she appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood.

  Despite herself, Holly grinned. Only Max could succeed in making her smile in times of sadness.

  “That Christmas six years ago was the last day I can remember being really truly happy,” she said. “We were here, in this house, and it was just so perfect. My mom and I made cookies, and my dad cut down the tree.” She grew quiet, thinking back on that day, not knowing in that moment that everything was about to change forever. “The car accident happened the day after, on our way back to Boston. I guess that every year since I opened the inn I go a little overboard with the holiday, just to keep the memory of that day alive a little longer. This house is meant to come alive at Christmas.”

  Max squeezed her hand tighter and sat in companionable silence with her for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse with emotion. “I guess I’m not the only one with a family tragedy,” he said.

  He reached up and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, his eyes closing softly as he bent toward her. Holly’s pulse quickened as she leaned in to meet his lips with hers. She had longed for this moment since the second his lips had last left hers, and just as her mouth brushed his, a sharp clearing of a throat was heard from the doorway, jarring their lips apart.

  Abruptly, Holly turned and with surprise said, “Abby.”

  * * *

  “I’ve been trying to call you,” Abby whispered urgently, clutching Holly’s upper arm and dragging her through the dining room and into the lobby. “Haven’t you been checking your phone?”

  Holly craned her neck back to the dining room, eager to get back to Max who was still sitting in the kitchen eating. She felt trapped with sudden impatience. The heat of the moment they had just started to share was gone; breakfast wasn’t the only thing getting cold since Abby’s arrival.

  “I’m sorry,” Holly said, not feeling the least bit guilty. “But I’ve sort of been busy.”

  “With him?” Abby hissed, referring to Max.

  Holly’s eyes flew open at the insinuation. “Yes, with him. Who else?”

  Abby tightened her arms across her chest. Her eyes blazed through Holly’s. “Do you even know what you’re getting yourself into here, Holly?”

  Holly faltered. “Abby, where is this coming from? I thought you liked Max. You were practically pushing me onto him yesterday!”

  “Well, that was before,” she huffed.

  “Before what?”

  “Before I started thinking that something doesn’t add up here.”

  Holly groaned. “Abby.”

  “I’m just saying, what do you even know about this guy?”

  A lot, Holly wanted to say. Enough.

  “He’s a good guy,” she settled on.

  Abby’s face creased with worry. “Are you sure?”

  “Abby,” Holly said sharply. “Where is this coming from?”

  “I’m just worried about you.”

  Holly sighed. “I appreciate that, I do. But just yesterday you and Lucy were basically telling me I was being ridiculous for being so apprehensive. And now you’re telling me the exact opposite.”

  “Okay,” Abby said, taking a deep breath. She held Holly’s gaze with hers and lowered her voice. “After I left the Christmas Market, I went to the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner. And I ran into Max. He was talking to Mayor Pearson,” she added meaningfully.

  Holly searched her friend’s face in confusion. “And?”

  “They were in some really heated conversation. Speaking in low voices. It was really suspicious,” Abby finished.

  Holly stared deep into her friend’s warm brown eyes. “And...did you hear anything?”

  Abby crossed her arms and looked shiftily around the room. “Well, no.”

  “Abby!” Holly cried. She knew her friend’s heart was in the right place, but already her resolve to give Max a chance was breaking down, wariness seeping in through the cracks.

  “I’m sorry,” Abby said. “Maybe I’m overreacting.”

  Holly’s anger wavered. “No, I know you’re just concerned.” She paused. “Are you sure you didn’t overhear anything?”

  Abby’s lips twisted. She stared at the ground, pensive. “I guess not. It just...it just seemed odd that they knew each other. I don’t know...”

  Holly shrugged dismissively. “It’s a small town. And you know how friendly Mayor Pearson is. I’m sure he was just trying to be friendly.”

  But even as Holly spoke the words, she felt her stomach begin to twist.

  Abby looked equally unconvinced. “It just seemed like more than that. Like they knew each other.”

  “Maybe they do,” Holly said, throwing up her hands. “Max is here on business, after all. I guess it would make sense that he could have met the mayor.” Holly’s mind flitted to the library. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that Max’s involvement here was tied to it.

  Abby nodded. “I feel like an idiot.”

  “Don’t.” Holly pulled her friend in for a hug.

  “So tell me,” Abby whispered, a glint reappearing in her eyes. “Did I just interrupt something?”

  “You did,” Holly said ruefully.

  “Then I should probably let you get back to it!” Abby gave her a sly smile and said, “I want every detail. Promise?”

  Holly nodded and waved her friend away with false cheer. Standing halfway between the dining room and lobby, she had the deflating sensation that she wasn’t going to be able to just get back to it. The moment was lost and Holly’s old fears had returned stronger than ever.

  * * *

  “Everything okay with Abby?” Max asked in what he hoped was a breezy tone as Holly strolled back into the kitchen. His heart was still pounding, despite the smile in Holly’s eyes. This was all happening faster than he had prepared himself for, even if he had set it into motion.

  “Oh, yeah. She just forgot something the other day and I needed to help her find it,” Holly said, refusing to meet his eye. She pulled the sticky French toast pan from the stovetop and placed i
t in the sink, filling it with water to soak. Max watched her silently, his gaze shifting down her spine, lingering on the curve of her waist before she abruptly turned to face him, her expression unreadable. He eyed her as she smoothed her sweater over her hips. A rush of heat filled him as he imagined his own hands following her slim curves.

  Max’s gut clenched as her eyes bored into his from beneath the shadow of her long lashes. He studied her carefully, trying to gauge what she knew. What Abby had told her. This was what he feared the most—that news would spread to Holly before he could come clean himself.

  He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to talk to her. Now.

  “I have to ask... Do you really plan to run this inn for the rest of your life?” he asked.

  Holly refilled both of their mugs with coffee and turned to face him. “I do,” she said simply. “I don’t think I would ever leave Maple Woods. My life is here now, in this house. It’s where I’m supposed to be.”

  Max clenched his teeth. So there it was. So final. So official. He knew it. She wasn’t going to leave on her own. And that meant he’d have to force her out. Out of her business. Out of her home.

  And inevitably, out of his life.

  “Even with all the sacrifices you mentioned?” he pressed. “Even though you never get time away, and you’re always busy with your guests?”

  Holly considered his question. “I like dealing with my guests, meeting new people. I know what I want out of life and I guess I feel like right now, the closest I am to having it is by staying here, in my inn.”

  “And what is it you want, Holly?” he asked softly.

  She tucked a loose strand of chestnut hair behind her ear, seeming to debate whether she should tell him. Finally she looked him square in the eye and said, “A family. A family of my own.”

  Max groaned inwardly. He should have known. A woman like Holly was looking for marriage. Kids. A house. Probably this house. He could never give her any of those things. All he could ever do was break her heart.

  “Are those things that you want?” she asked, her eyes searching his.

  Max looked at her and knew right then and there what he had to say. “No.”