by Olivia Miles
It would take her a while to remember that he wasn’t the man she thought he was. That his advances had been nothing more than flirtatious banter, meant to cover his betrayal. That she had been duped, used.
Holly’s pulse skipped as it did every time she came around to this sad, hard fact. No matter how much evidence was pointing to the contrary, something deep inside her still told her that her time with Max had been real and true. She’d seen it in his eyes, heard it in his laugh. Maybe he was this way with every woman he met, but her gut told her otherwise. Or maybe she was the one with an ulterior motive. Maybe she just wanted to see him so achingly badly because she knew in her heart that he was the one person who had the power to make this all go away. And she couldn’t stop wishing he would.
The front door was locked to Holly’s surprise—Max must have locked it when he left—so, after a bit of fumbling, she slid the key into the lock and turned the bolt. Already she felt like a stranger as she closed the door behind her. The house was empty, eerily still. Unlike it had ever been since she first converted it into an inn. Even during her slowest months, there was always the cheerful rumble of conversation from a handful of guests or members of staff.
The staff. Holly groaned as she realized the ripple effect of this horrible situation. She couldn’t imagine a worse time than Christmas to let everyone know that they no longer had a job to return to, but she had been left with no other choice. She winced when she thought of Abby, who was so busy comforting her that she hadn’t even bothered to indulge in the setback this had caused her personally.
A wave of shame took over when she thought of her oversight. When she got back to Abby’s house, she would figure something out for her. A severance of some sort. It was the least she could do.
Holly moved quickly through the lobby, not bothering to linger. The longer she stayed in this house, the harder it would be to leave again. She didn’t need to sit here and reminisce. There would be plenty of time for memories later. That was all she would have left soon. Memories and nothing more. At least those would be hers to cherish and keep forever—something Max or anyone else could never take from her.
Abby had been kind enough to offer to help her pack, but Holly knew it was better for her to do this on her own, despite how much of a toll the effort was taking on her broken spirit. She needed to do this at her own pace, with her own thoughts to keep her company, to have the closure she needed to be able to walk out of her house and shut that door behind her for the very last time.
* * *
Max gripped the steering wheel as he drove through town, recalling the dozens of terse emails he’d received from his senior staff, the confusion and anger he’d sensed in their voices during a conference call earlier that morning. People were upset, and understandably so. He’d told them a half-truth—that the site had slipped through, that it wouldn’t work out. They didn’t need details beyond that. It was his company, and he’d deal with the fallout. The anchors would be let down. It was possible several would act on their threats to pull out of underperforming centers. Hamilton Properties would take a major financial hit.
But it would be worth it.
He took a left and began to climb the long driveway to the inn. He held his breath, looking for any sign of Holly. He had spent another night sitting in the lobby, waiting for a sign of headlights, bracing himself for her return. He ached with a need to see her, speak to her. He needed to make things right, and he didn’t want to wait any longer.
His tires chomped up the drive and he pulled to a stop. No car.
Max fought back the bitter taste that filled his mouth. There was still a chance to set things right; Holly would have to return to the inn eventually. It was her home, after all. She couldn’t stay away forever.
By now he had resigned himself to letting her go, if that was what she wanted. He was used to people walking away from him; it was all he had ever known. If Holly was determined to never forgive him or see him again, that was her choice. He couldn’t stop her.
But it wouldn’t stop him from doing what he had to do.
Max turned off the ignition and stepped out into the chilly air. It was going to be a white Christmas this year—even the sun’s rays couldn’t cut through the cold. He pulled his collar up to shield his neck from the wind and darted to the front door of the lobby, fumbling in his pocket for the key. He hesitated, his brow furrowing in confusion when he realized the door was unlocked, even though he had made sure to lock it before going into town.
Holly.
He held his breath, his heart pounding as he quietly pushed open the door and stepped inside. With eerie calm he stood perfectly still, his eyes skimming the lobby, looking for any sign of her.
But all he was met with was silence.
Max inhaled deeply, and nodded to himself. He had set this into motion and now he was paying the price. It was time to leave The White Barn Inn once and for all.
But first, there was one last thing he needed to do.
* * *
It didn’t take Holly long to pack up her clothes and toiletries. Her personal photos and mementos all fit neatly in a few brown packing boxes. She had fit her entire world into the bedroom, sitting room, and bathroom that constituted her living quarters. The rest of her home was open to the public; the door was always open for any passing stranger who wanted to enter her world, even for just one night.
She did want to keep some of the furniture, though. When she landed on her feet, she would need it to make her feel like she was home again. Abby had suggested she have an estate sale for the rest; she could use the money to start a new life for herself. Although, what that life would be, she didn’t even know anymore.
Maple Woods no longer seemed the place for her. She couldn’t bear the thought of driving through town and seeing a shopping mall on this very spot she now stood. It would kill her.
And even her friends... Abby and Pete and Stephen were dear, but some pain cut too deep and some towns were too small. She understood now why Max had left his childhood town behind and never looked back. It was time to do this with Maple Woods. She couldn’t imagine ever facing the Millers again after this. Their smiles, their diner, all of it would just be a constant reminder of their betrayal and of her loss.
Holly had a sudden urge to hide. To run from her life and leave her memories packed up in the boxes at her feet. Maybe she would go back to Boston, where she could get a new job and get lost in the crowd. Or maybe she could get a job at a hotel in another city, someplace where no one would know her or her sad story or would have even heard of Maple Woods.
She sealed another box. It was almost time to leave. Dragging this out would only make things worse. Holly took one last look around the bedroom, feeling strangely detached and peaceful. It was too surreal to accept yet. Someday it would hit her, but not today. Not while this house still stood intact, at least. Not while she was still a part of it.
As much as she wanted to load up her car and drive away right then, before the inevitable flood of tears took hold, there was still business to be done. Holly smiled weakly to herself—she had taken such pride in making over this building as an inn and providing for her guests. She had run a tight ship, and she would still do so now, to the bitter end.
She wandered back through the corridors, growing dim in the fading sunlight, mentally forming a list of everything she would have to grab from the front desk, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the golden flames crackling in the fireplace at the far end of the room. Her heart wrenched, her chest heaving with each breath.
Max. He was still here.
“Max.” Her voice caught the knot in her throat, barely coming out as a stifled whisper, its tone laced with hope she didn’t even know was there.
She slowly put one foot in front of the other as she tiptoed further into the vast space, her eyes scanning for any s
ign of him. Gingerly, she crossed the room to the hearth, her eyes focusing on something else that hadn’t been there just a short while ago.
She reached out to the mantel and touched the stocking that hung beside Abby’s and the other members of the staff. The ones Abby had knitted and that Holly had hung so carefully. The stockings had been empty all this time, meant for nothing more than a decoration and eventually a small gift from the Secret Santa exchange they did every year and she knew at once that the gift tucked into her stocking was not from Abby or Stephen or any other member of the small group that ran The White Barn Inn.
It was from Max.
Holly sucked in a sharp breath and let her fingers graze the creamy paper that was tucked inside the stocking, poking out from the top just enough to make it visible. She pulled it out slowly and held it in her hands, pondering the possibilities. The paper had been rolled into a scroll, tied with a scrap of twine that she now set on the mantel.
Unfolding the crisp paper, she was surprised by the length of the letter. Her trembling hands caused the paper to shake and she scanned the words quickly, barely absorbing them and then reading them over and over until her tears blurred her vision and dripped onto the ink, smearing his last words to her.
* * *
Max halted at the bottom of the stairs, his hand gripping the banister. Holly stood with her back to him, her dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail that flowed down her back, glistening in the light of the fire. She looked so small, standing there alone in the huge room. So innocent in a way that touched him deeply and seized his heart. She hadn’t done anything to deserve this. All she had wanted was something that was rightfully hers all along. He’d had no business coming in and trying to steal that from her.
Sensing his presence, Holly suddenly turned. Her eyes locked with his, and even from this distance he could see her tears, and it made his heart ache to know that he had caused them.
“I thought you’d left,” she said, staring at him as if he were a ghost.
“I should have, but I needed to see you one last time first. I needed to try to make things right.” He watched her, his breath caught in his chest, not ready for this moment to be over. In this moment there was a still a chance, still hope, and he clung to it.
“I read your letter,” she said with a watery smile. She lifted it in the air, the fire illuminating it from behind. “Is it official? The deed to the property is mine?”
Max nodded. “It was never mine to take in the first place.”
Holly looked down at the letter that accompanied the deed and back to him. “I just don’t understand. Why did you change your mind?”
“It’s like I said in the letter. I know what this place means to you. I understand how it could never be replaced.”
“No,” Holly said. “It can’t.”
“I shouldn’t have gone through with it in the first place, Holly,” he apologized, coming closer to where she stood near the large hearth. “I had no business being here or involving you in this mess.”
“You didn’t know at first,” Holly said, but her tone had a hard edge. She was still bruised. He wouldn’t have expected otherwise.
“No, I didn’t,” he said. “I honestly thought I was coming here to make an offer to the owner of the inn. That it would be a clear-cut business arrangement and that everyone would walk away with what they wanted. When I learned of the situation, I didn’t walk away. And I should have.”
“It was business. You said so yourself.”
Max shrugged. “I guess I just didn’t realize that the project wasn’t worth it until it was too late.”
Holly lowered her gaze and stared at the letter in her hands. She ran her fingers over the formal deed to the land. Her eyes shot up to his. “Was it really important to you? The project?”
It was now or never, Max knew. He had fought so hard to build a safe world for himself—his business and nothing else. Now it was time to fight for something else. Something that meant a great deal more to him than anything else ever had.
“None of it matters, Holly,” he said, fighting to form the words, “if it costs me the one thing that has come to mean so much to me.”
Holly’s eyes held his, unblinking. “What’s that?”
“You.”
* * *
Holly looked down at the deed to the property that lay flat against the smeared ink of Max’s letter. She clung to the paper, thinking it odd that something that could mean so much could be both so simple yet official in form.
The tenderness of his confession tore at her heartstrings.
She looked deep into his blue eyes, noticing the way they crinkled at the corners, the way a faint line had formed between his brows. He had opened his heart to her, and now it was up to her to step inside.
A memory of how deeply he had hurt her cut fresh. He had broken her trust, blindsided her when she had finally dared to let her guard down. And now he was standing here, telling her everything she wished to hear but didn’t know if she could believe.
“Max—” she started and then stopped as her mind waged war on her heart.
“What is it? What more do I need to say? Just tell me what more I need to say to convince you that I will never hurt you again. I’ll say anything, Holly.”
Holly searched his eyes. “Tell me what you want, Max. Tell me what this is all for.”
His eyes didn’t waver from hers, and when he spoke, his voice was strong and clear. Certain. “I want this, Holly. I want your world. I want you.” He gestured to the room, to the tree. “Being here this past week has made me realize how much I’ve chosen to miss out on. I thought it was better to keep to myself, but I was wrong.” He paused, giving her a lazy smile. “I want the tree and the stockings and the small town where everyone knows your business. I want to live my life feeling the way I’ve felt every day that I’ve been here. I don’t want to go back to the way it was before.”
Holly beamed. “You don’t have to,” she said.
Max’s smile widened. “You really mean it?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she said as she took a step toward him. He leaned down toward her, his eyes never breaking their hold with her own, until the moment his lips finally touched hers. His kiss was light and tender at first, sending a tingle down her spine.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to his hard chest. His fingers traced lower down her curves, drawing her in as his mouth claimed hers with more passion. Holly ran her hands over the nape of his neck, through his hair, feeling the urgent heat radiating from his body.
Barely breaking their kiss, he whispered in her ear, “I’ll never betray you again, Holly.” The delicate rush of his breath in her ear and the featherlight touch of his lips on her skin made her shiver with need and she wrapped her arms tighter across his wide chest, pulling him close.
They continued to kiss, their hands tracing the other’s chest, hips, back, until step by step they were moving together in the direction of Holly’s bedroom.
“I didn’t think guests were allowed back here,” Max teased.
Holly laughed, letting her lips linger softly on his. “There are exceptions to every rule.”
They fell back onto her bed, and Holly let her head drop back as Max traced his mouth along the length of her neck. She sighed, barely believing life could transform so quickly.
His tongue traced her bottom lip, teasing her for more, and higher still, sending a warm current rushing through her. She opened herself to his embrace as he pulled her sweater free, and she quickly released him from his shirt. His chest was taut and firm, and the warmth of his skin on hers made her ache for him to touch her more intimately.
Her nipples strained against the lace of her bra, and Max slowly pulled the straps off her shoulders, one by one, before unhooking the clasp an
d lowering his mouth to her breasts. His tongue circled each nipple softly as his fingers traced over her stomach, her hips and the rim of her panties, teasing her with his touch.
Her hips lifted with anticipation. She raked her hands through the silkiness of his hair and craned her neck to recapture his lips when his mouth met hers once more.
“I want you, Holly,” he said, looking her in the eye.
She nodded, unable to speak as she looked deep into his blue eyes, noticing for the first time the slight dusting of freckles that covered the bridge of his nose, the flecks of brown that surrounded his pupils.
She lay back against the pillow as Max’s lips trailed down her stomach, over her hips, his touch so light, yet her body so achingly aware.
He pulled her jeans off, then slid her panties down her legs. Kneeling before her, he released his belt, and he was soon hovering above her in only his plaid boxers, and then nothing at all.
She opened her mouth to his deep kiss as he sheathed himself in a condom and then entered her in one long, slow thrust. Easing back slowly, he pushed forward again until their bodies found their rhythm, his mouth never leaving hers until the end, when he groaned into her ear and collapsed against her chest.
They lay against the soft flannel sheets, which, as Abby had observed earlier that week, had up until this moment never seen anything more exciting than a romance novel. Their bodies entwined, each lazily stroked the heat off the other’s bare skin, sighing with happiness or possibly relief.
“You know,” Max said eventually, “I think your Christmas spirit might be contagious. All this mistletoe has clouded my judgment.”
Holly smiled to herself. “So you’re looking forward to another day of festive activities, then?”
“Do you know what’s even crazier than that?” he asked in a husky whisper, his lips curling into an irresistible grin as his blue eyes danced. “I love you, Holly Tate.”
Holly smiled. “I love you, too.”
* * *
Bright sunlight poured through open curtains, filling the bedroom with a golden warmth and stirring Holly from her slumber. She smiled as the memory of the night before came back to her, and she rolled over on the mattress to run her hands over Max’s smooth skin.
