Christmas Inn Love

by Collins, Kelly

  “I think I will have to spend the night here,” he said with an arched brow.

  “It’s okay. It is an inn. I know you didn’t expect to get trapped here.”

  “Trapped is not what I’m feeling.” His fingers danced across her arm. “Are you okay with this?”

  “Sure.” She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “And by tomorrow, if the snow lets up, they’ll plow the drive between your place and mine.”

  He dropped his hand from her arm. Every cell missed his touch.

  “I just wanted to make sure it was okay.”

  “It’s fine,” she repeated.

  Jackson emerged through the front door with the dog, who galloped through the house, no doubt glad to be out of the cold snow.

  Celia was grateful for the interruption of the moment between her and Rob. She wasn’t used to any pounding of the heart, heating of the skin, twisting of her core moments.

  “It’s coming down, and it’s deep.” Jackson brushed a few flakes from his shoulders. “You may be here for a week.”

  Rob’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  “Just kidding, but you’re here for the night for sure.”

  “It would seem,” he said.

  “Sweet! We can watch a movie.” Jackson danced across the hardwood floor. “Or wait, do you play video games?”

  Rob grinned. “I do not. Can you teach me?”

  “I have two controllers,” he said. “And my room is huge. I have two double beds.”

  Celia laughed. “He might want his own room. We can let him have a guest room.” It occurred to her that no matter how big her son got she would always see the little boy in him.

  The three of them sat at the table again as Celia served small wedges of frozen yogurt cake. Jackson was at the ready with the chocolate.

  Rob had grown quiet.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  He lifted his eyes to her and replied with a deep, smoky gaze.

  “I’m good.” But the look he gave Celia was anything but good. She found it as delicious and decadent as the chocolate on the cake. No, not good, but something just north of wicked.

  Jackson gobbled his dessert and hurried to his room. She knew he was setting things up so he and Rob could play a game.

  “That’s sweet of you to hang out with him. He only lets me have the other controller once in a while.”

  “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”

  She had the urge to apologize for snapping when he’d asked about Jackson’s birth.

  “About earlier,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t mean to be sensitive about the end of high school. Times are different, and I'm a grown woman. I took a lot of crap after graduation, and I’m weary of judgment.”

  “Understood. You’re preaching to the choir here.” He pointed to himself. “Bastard child.”

  “They were awful to you. Funny how Jackson goaded you, and yet he abandoned his son.”

  “What happened with you two?”

  She sighed like the air leaked from her. “Life happened. He was a bully. I never stood up to him in anything.” Celia remembered her ex was brutal to the younger male students, including Rob. “I’m sorry I never stuck up for you or the others.”

  “In hindsight, what could you have done? I don’t understand the attraction. He wasn’t nice.”

  She closed her eyes, trying to grab a snapshot of her younger self. “He was cute and popular. I was a teenage girl flattered by his attention.” She gathered their dessert plates and stacked them on top of each other. “You’re right about one thing, he wasn’t a good guy,” she said. “He didn’t want to be a husband or a father, and I don’t blame him. He was still a kid.”

  She didn’t mean to tense, but a wave of emotion crested, and she felt paralyzed from the memories. Sometimes she could talk about it, and sometimes she couldn’t.

  “So were you.” He finished his coffee and set the cup on the table with a thunk.

  “I wouldn’t miss having my son for anything in the world.”

  “Jackson’s great, but it had to be hard,” he said.

  “It was hard and hurtful and not romantic. Jackson had a lot of problems and being a young man with a family didn’t help much.”

  “So you divorced.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact as if he already had the details. Then again, it was a small town and people talked.

  “Yeah, when Jackson was six,” she said. “He went his way and never looked back. It wasn’t much of a change because he wasn’t around much anyway. I was always a single parent. When Jackson turned ten, he wanted to change his last name to Roberts. Since his father had signed all parental rights away, it was easy.”

  “You’ve done a remarkable job with everything, including this place.” He looked up as if snatching a memory from above. “When I was a paperboy, I remember this house in high school. Mr. and Mrs. Campanella owned it. They were old and didn’t have the money for repairs.”

  “Yep,” she said. “It was old and beat up. When Jackson’s dad left the first time, right before his birth, his parents helped me with the purchase. I told them what I wanted to do, and they felt bad for me and helped get the place.”

  “What a worthy investment.”

  Whether it was the emotional story, or the sugar, wine, carbs, and caffeine, vulnerability filled her. It would be easy to move closer and ask him for a hug.

  Jackson appeared in the nick of time with Lucky at his heels.

  “Ready.” He bounced on the balls of his feet. Maybe cake and games were too much for him.

  Rob rose. It felt like it would have been the most natural thing in the world for him to lean over and kiss her before he went to play a game with her son. As he passed her, Celia gazed upward to the ceiling, her face tilted like she was waiting for it.

  Chapter Eight

  Rob

  Rob lifted his head from the pillow. He’d slept for a couple of hours, and then he woke up and couldn’t fall back to sleep. He stared at the ceiling and counted the hummingbirds on the border while he waited for a reasonable hour to head downstairs.

  When the sun peeked through a break in the curtains, he left his room and walked through the breezeway into the main house. He padded barefoot down the stairs to the kitchen, where he started coffee.

  He had to give Celia credit. The inn was comfortable and provided all the amenities a person could want or need. Decorated tastefully, it preserved the Victorian charm without overdoing it.

  Lucky quietly trotted into the kitchen and sat beside him. The sight of the dog gripped his heart. Being a dog owner wasn’t in the cards for him, but it surprised him how much he liked the beast.

  When the pot sputtered its final ounce, he poured himself a cup and stepped into the parlor and Lucky disappeared. Every so often he landed on a personal touch. There was a family picture of Celia and Jackson when he was young. Behind them stood Jackson Sr. It was a nice picture, but it seemed staged. Big Jackson’s gaze was off to the sidelines, like he was forced to stay but his head was already somewhere else. He couldn’t even fake a happy family life for a photo.

  Rob picked up the picture so he could study every nuance of Celia, her sweet smile and her expressive eyes. Little Jackson was a cute kid too. His father wasn’t present. He tried not to be hard on the man and attempted to put himself in Jackson Sr.’s shoes. The pressures of being a young dad had to be overwhelming, but he came to one conclusion. He wouldn’t have left Celia or his son for anything. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t have done to make it work for all of them. He believed that with everything he had, but then again, he had never really been in a longstanding relationship so how could he judge?

  He peeked out the window to see the snow. The storm had been unexpected, and the volume of snowfall was off the charts.

  The sky was blue, and the sun peeked above the horizon. He was ready to be home, a place only a little more familiar to him than Celia’s inn, but h
e was eager to get away. Not away from Celia and Jackson, but away from the feelings that stirred within him when he was with them. Feelings that went against his core belief that he was an island—a man who needed nothing but his passion for business. The longer he stayed, the harder it got to lie to himself.

  Out of nowhere, a big plow whooshed by and then a smaller Bobcat puttered along to Celia’s driveway. A man hopped out wearing boots that came to his knees and removed the snow from her walkway.

  Behind him, Celia danced across the wooden floor like she was checking to see if Santa had arrived. Her hair was drawn into a messy bun, with the fringe of her bangs framing her face. She was like a radiant sun bursting on to the scene.

  “Wow,” he said. “What’s up?”

  “Checking out the weather situation so I can confirm my guests.” She stood next to him to look outside. “I can’t afford to miss a weekend.”

  A weekend of cancellations to her would be like a big business deal falling through for him. Maybe worse since he imagined she didn’t have a lot of money tucked away for leaner times.

  He tugged on his shoes, which lay by the door. “I’ll chase the street crew down to see if they’ll clear mine next.”

  “They take care of them in order,” she said. “I think I’m his last.”

  “I’ll be your first,” Rob teased. He thought about what it would be like to be the first man she could trust.

  “What?” She turned and looked at him.

  “Coffee is ready. I need to be out the door soon. I have a web conference with investors, and my equipment is at the house,” he said. “We have to get the resort rolling.”

  She let out a sigh that turned into a growl. “You have a perfectly good house in your mother’s home. You put together a silly prefab home, and now with the snow, you can’t build until the spring. What’s the rush?” she snapped.

  “Touchy this morning. Is there something behind your harsh words?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said, hurrying to the kitchen. She helped herself to coffee as Rob joined her. He looked around for Lucky, who was nowhere in sight.

  “Didn’t you sleep well?”

  She sipped her coffee and avoided his question.

  “Coffee’s fantastic.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  The snow removal equipment grew louder as though it were approaching the house, then it idled. There was a knock on the door. Celia rolled her eyes and set her cup on the counter.

  She grumbled, “Scott.”

  Rob wondered if it was Scott who caused her bad mood or him. When she opened the front door, the golden Colorado sunlight bounced off the snow and lit up the entry.

  “Hi,” she said, her voice strained.

  “Morning, Celia,” he said. “Will your guests need to be leaving soon? We can dig them out.”

  “Guests?” she asked.

  “The new truck out there.” He leaned in and drew a deep breath. “Is that coffee I smell?” Without an invitation, he took a step forward.

  Celia backed away from the door, letting him in.

  He halted when his eyes fell on Rob, who stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

  “Good morning.” Rob didn’t want to make trouble for Celia, but he savored the look of jealousy on Scott’s face. “I’m the guest.” He pointed to himself with a smile. “Shall I move my truck?”

  “You’d be more useful if you got out and shoveled,” Scott snapped.

  Rob walked forward to look out the front window.

  “You’ve created a wall of snow behind me. You expect me to shovel it?”

  “I suppose we can dig you out if it will help you get on your way.” If dirty looks were daggers, Rob would hemorrhage by the number thrown at him.

  “I appreciate it. I’ll be out of here as soon as you do.”

  He thought that might create an incentive for Scott, who was not pleased to see him.

  “Did you want coffee, Scott?” Celia asked with pressed politeness.

  “No, that’s fine.” He shook his head. “I’ll dig this guy out and be moving on.”

  “Say, Scott,” asked Rob. “How does the road look from here to my place?”

  “You can follow us if you like. We’ll head out that way and circle back around.”

  “Don’t wait for me.” Rob walked to the door and waited for Scott to step over the threshold. “I’ll be out after Celia and I enjoy a coffee together.”

  He closed the door, locking Scott out.

  “Come.” He laid his arm over her shoulders and led her into the kitchen. “Let’s have our coffee. Would you like a little toast or something to go with it?”

  Just as they sat at the kitchen table, a ruckus that sounded like thunder tore down the stairs and Lucky and his boy appeared. Jackson bundled up to go outdoors.

  “No school!” he bellowed.

  “How is it on days you don’t have to go to school you’re up at the break of daylight, but on days you do, I can’t pry you from under the covers?” Celia asked.

  “Murphy’s Law, Mom. Murphy’s Law.”

  “Isn’t that anything that can go wrong will?” she asked.

  “That too.” He opened the fridge and chugged from a bottle of milk.

  “Jackson Matthew,” she scolded.

  “Gotta take the dog out, sorry, Mom.” He was out the door with Lucky in seconds flat.

  Celia turned to Rob. “That dog is magic.” She craned her head to see out the window. Jackson ran through the snow with Lucky.

  “He’s magic? If he’s pooping gold bricks, I want him back,” he teased.

  “He got Jackson to forget about video games for a while,” she said. “I could never achieve that.”

  “That seems to be the way of it for kids today. Is that all he does?”

  “He fools around with a guitar I bought him. I offered to get him lessons, but he said he enjoyed learning off of the internet—big surprise.” She rose and popped a few slices of bread into the toaster. “Maybe I need to put my foot down. I’d love it if he committed to an instrument or a hobby. Maybe I should have gotten him a dog sooner.”

  “Stop second guessing yourself. You’re a great mom.” He knew a little something about moms. He’d had one too, but she was what they’d call a helicopter parent. A damn Military Apache Guardian. Quick and deadly. She saw everything. Knew everything. Her temper was like a heat-seeking missile. Never missed a thing except his unhappiness. He rather liked that Celia was more laid back and allowed Jackson to experience life organically.

  “I hear that a lot, but I’m not fond of it.”

  He did a double take. “Being known as a great mom is a bad thing?”

  “No, but it’s usually followed by ‘for someone so young.’”

  “Not what I meant at all. Besides, you’re not all that young to be a mom now.” He tugged on her shirt to cover her shoulder. “Be careful, your chip is showing.”

  “You’re right. I need to lighten up.”

  “On yourself for sure.” He put his empty coffee cup in the sink. “I have to go. Thanks for the shelter, the company, the food—all of it.” He lifted her hand and kissed it.

  “Are you really going to have a conference call about developing the land?”

  “Yes.” he nodded. “I am.”

  That damn elephant took up residence in the room again, sitting heavily between them.

  “It’s a shame,” she said.

  “I’ll touch base with you later. I would like for you to come see what I’m proposing. It might surprise you.”

  “What you’re proposing will most likely put me out of business, Mr. McKenna.”

  “We’re back to that?” he asked with frustration. “I’ve asked you to call me Rob.”

  “Okay, Rob. I have a brand and a reputation. My guests this weekend are coming all the way from Washington, D.C. to get away from it all. Future guests won’t have that experience if you build your metropolis in my backyard. They’ll bypass my place and go t
o yours.”

  “Come on, Celia, give it a chance.”

  “Have a good day.” She walked to the front door and opened it for him. “Safe travels.”

  He slipped on his coat and headed outside. The snow was halfway up his calves as he stepped and sunk repeatedly to get to his truck.

  Scott and his crew had done the worst job clearing him out. He climbed inside the cab and spied the man talking with Jackson. He rolled the truck toward them to hear the conversation.

  “Tell your mom I have her materials loaded in the warehouse,” Scott said. “They won’t freeze that way.”

  “That’s great,” Rob broke in. “Maybe you can do that with my fencing. Can you keep it stored until the snow melts?”

  “I’ll look into it,” Scott said stiffly.

  “Maybe I should have had Celia ask you,” teased Rob.

  Jackson laughed hard, and by the red that painted Scott’s face, it embarrassed him to have his crush called out. Scott marched to his Bobcat as quickly as he could.

  “You nailed it, dude,” said Jackson. “I think he has a creepy obsession for my mom.”

  “Make sure he doesn’t hear you say that,” counseled Rob with a smile.

  “Yeah, not wise since Mom is on this Christmas committee with him.”

  “Christmas committee?” Rob cocked his head to the side.

  “We have the Christmas Parade and people make these floats on old trailers. He’s in charge of her material orders every year, and it’s worse because this year Mom is making her own. I guess it wouldn’t be a good idea to get on his bad side. But boy, it’s obvious he likes her and doesn’t care much for you.”

  Rob reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “I can’t say as I blame him for liking your mom.”

  “Oh,” said Jackson, getting the hint that Rob liked Celia too.

  Rob put a finger to his lips. “Shh,” he said. “Let’s keep my secret crush between you and me.”

  “Got it,” Jackson said.

  “I gotta go. Lucky needs to get back inside.”

  “Why? He has fur.”

  “He does, but dogs get frostbite. Keep him off salted walkways and only have him come in and out until the snow melts.”