Blush Duo - Marriage Under the Mistletoe & The Christmas Inn

by Helen Lacey

  “We’ve got a single female guest for the next three days, unless her husband decides to join her.” He picked up the reservation, and noted down Scott McLaughlan’s number. “And we have thirty couples who’ve registered for the Christmas Getaway event, most of them arriving tomorrow. I wanted this thing to go off without a hitch. I’d like to really promote it next year and maybe build a little momentum around our programming for the winter months. The last thing I need is a beautiful woman making the wives feel on edge or jealous.”

  “I hope she’s not one of those women who likes to hang out at the bar. The last one of those just left yesterday and I’m exhausted,” Jack grumbled.

  Luke knew what he meant. Although the bar was popular with the guests because of Jack’s charm, in addition to the quality and variety of the liquor offerings, no one appreciated a guest wanting to spend the night getting drunk. In Jack’s case, he had another reason for wanting to see his guests leave the bar at a reasonable hour. His wife, Lindsay, was expecting their first child and was anxious about the delivery, especially with respect to getting to the hospital on time. Jack didn’t like leaving her alone and had worked mostly day shifts until this week.

  “I don’t know anything about her except that the reservation was for two, and here she is, all checked in and ready to enjoy her stay…alone. Her husband insisted that the small room was fine for them. I can’t shake the feeling that something else is going on here.” Restless, he picked up a steel pen, one his parents had given him years ago.

  “I assume she’s beautiful.”

  “That, too.”

  “I take it you tried to convince her to reconsider?”

  “I suggested the Chancellor but she refused. It seems she’s very interested in our spa.”

  “Well, then I wouldn’t worry. Her husband will probably show up,” Jack said, rubbing his hands through his short-cropped brown hair. “Maybe she and her husband had a fight, and she decided to come on her own, hoping he’d follow her and they could have great makeup sex.”

  Luke groaned. “I don’t need that—her deciding to cry on one of the other husbands’ shoulders when hers doesn’t show, and we end up with an argument, or worse still, the couple leaves. Not the image I want to portray.”

  “You know there is something you could do if you’re worried about the other guests.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Until the other guests arrive, I don’t see a problem. But if her husband isn’t here by tomorrow night for the dinner that launches the Christmas Getaway event, you could invite her to be your guest. That way you’ll be able to keep an eye on her.”

  “And if she doesn’t want to be my guest?”

  Jack shrugged. “She won’t object. Half the women I serve at the bar ask me about you. Married or not. They’re all interested.”

  He hadn’t dated anyone since Anna died. There was simply too much to deal with between raising Ethan and running the inn. And if he were to be perfectly honest, a new relationship with a woman would mean he’d have to face his feelings around Anna’s death, feelings of anger over her unwillingness to listen to his warning about the road conditions, all the emptiness of having been left alone.

  Yet, meeting Marnie had sparked something. He was attracted to her, and he didn’t want to be. First, she was married, and second, he didn’t want to care for someone when caring could lead to so much hurt. “That might work for tomorrow,” he conceded.

  “Her husband will probably arrive tomorrow, anyway.”

  “Then why didn’t she say so?”

  Jack shook his head. “Did you ask?”

  “No.” He sighed. “I should have.”

  “My advice? Leave it for tonight, and deal with it tomorrow.”

  * * *

  MARNIE WOKE WITH A START—nothing seemed familiar, and the only sound was someone outside the door talking about a room number. Then she remembered where she was. How long had she slept? She checked her watch. Six o’clock! She’d planned to go for a hike, but now all she’d have time for was a walk around the grounds. She jumped up, hitting her head on the sloped ceiling. “Ow!” she muttered, rubbing the spot just above her hairline.

  “That’s what you get for agreeing to stay in this room,” she said to the empty space as she bent over, searching for her hiking boots. Pulling them on, she noted how dark it was outside, only the sliver of moon peeking through the blind. She hurried downstairs and out the front door. Taking a quick look around, she spotted a stone path leading to the side of the inn. She took it, past a cluster of spreading juniper toward the back. The path led to a stone patio where someone had removed all the snow.

  Near the edge on the other side of the patio, Ethan was on his hands and knees digging in the soft loam of a flowerbed, while making loud dump-truck sounds. Squinting around the poorly lit patio space she realized the little boy was out here alone. Except for Henry, who had settled in near the patio door, his chin on his paws, one ear flopped rakishly over one eye. He observed her carefully, his ears doing a flip-flop before settling back.

  She went over and knelt down beside the boy. “Ethan, what are you doing?”

  “I drive the truck,” he announced proudly, his blue eyes taking her in, a smile dawning on his face. “I need help. You push,” he ordered, getting behind the toy dump truck loaded with dirt and giving it a shove.

  She laughed. “You want me to drive your dump truck?”

  He nodded, then stepped back and nodded his head again.

  “Okay, here goes,” she said, pushing the truck along the edge of the flowerbed toward a spot where he’d clearly dumped other loads.

  He toddled along beside her, and when she stopped he pulled the lever that raised the box on the dump truck, spilling his load onto the ground.

  He promptly got behind the truck and with a cacophony of enginelike noises he drove the truck back to the spot where she’d found him. She hugged herself against the chill of the night air. “Aren’t you cold?” she asked, noting his fleece jacket partially zippered.

  “No!” he howled, looking up at her and scrunching his tiny face. “I’m not cold.”

  “Okay. Do you want to load the dump truck again?”

  “Yes.” He began shoveling dirt into the truck with his plastic shovel, and again she wondered if anyone in the inn knew this child was out here on his own.

  “Where’s your daddy?”

  He pointed to the tall windows overlooking the patio. Inside, she could see a cluster of tables covered with white tablecloths and candles, and staff moving around the room. The room looked so inviting with its twinkling chandeliers, the golden walls and dark trim. She went to the window for a closer look, only to attract the curious attention of one of the young female servers. Embarrassed, she wiggled her fingers at her, then turned away and went back to where Ethan was busily filling the dump truck.

  “Push,” he ordered, pointing at the truck.

  Dutifully, she knelt down and pushed the truck toward the dump spot to the tune of Ethan’s squeals of delight. They dumped the dirt out together, and then Ethan turned to her, a bright smile on his face. Wrapping his arms around her neck, he hugged her.

  Startled, at first she didn’t know what to do, but feeling his arms tighten, she hugged him back. What a wonderful feeling! How she missed this now that all her nieces and nephews were older. Feeling the warmth of the little boy’s body and breathing in his little-boy scent, she felt a strong sense of missing out on life.
...

  He sprang out of her arms. “You help me some more?”

  “Sure. But why don’t we go inside for a bit first?” she asked, the evening air cooling rapidly.

  “No!” He pushed his lips out in a pout. “I don’t want to.”

  She had begun to shiver and tucked her chin into the top of her jacket. “But it must be time for you to eat,” she offered, hoping to encourage him to go in with her. She got up, stretched her legs and moved toward the patio doors. “Why don’t you come with me?” she asked, glancing over at the sound of the door opening. Henry barked and ambled toward the door, slipping past the man back-lit by the light of the room behind him.

  Luke Harrison stood there, his face in partial shadow. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “Yes, I went out for a walk around the property and discovered Ethan playing with his dump truck.” Why did she feel nervous? Was it the detached tone of the man’s voice? Did he think she was trying to kidnap his son?

  “One of the serving staff told me a strange woman was out here, so I came to check.”

  “I’ve been called a lot of things, but until now ‘strange’ hasn’t been one of them,” she said, making an attempt at humor. After her previous encounter she wanted to make a better impression this time around, if only to ease his concerns over her being here alone.

  Moving toward her, he chuckled, a deep, sexy sound that made her body tingle. “I didn’t mean to imply that you’re strange.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “Thanks for being here with Ethan. I got called to the phone and meant to return sooner than this.”

  Ethan had moved to stand between them, his head tilted back, staring up at them. “He’s going to be an engineer when he grows up,” Marnie said.

  “Or a dump-truck driver.” Luke glanced down at his son, then back at her. “I want to apologize for the way I behaved when we first met, but I was concerned about whether you’d enjoy your stay here with us. I don’t normally rent that room, and certainly not on such a special occasion. How is it, by the way?”

  She remembered the bump on her head, but didn’t mention it in case he tried again to convince her to move to the Chancellor Inn. “It’s…cozy.”

  “That’s one way of describing it,” he said, picking Ethan up in his arms and nuzzling his rosy cheek. “You’re cold, little buddy.”

  “I’m hungry,” Ethan said.

  “Maybe it’s time to go inside. Want to come?” he asked her, making her feel included, part of his world.

  “Sure.” She followed them inside, and was surprised to find the lobby bustling with activity. The first seating for dinner would begin momentarily, and the bar across from the dining room was filled with guests, most of them older than she was, all of them laughing and talking together.

  Luke carried Ethan to the office and stepped back, inviting her to enter the room first. “Have you met our housekeeper, Mary?” he asked, nodding to a woman seated at a tiny desk near the back of the room.

  “Nice to meet you,” Mary said, extending her hand in welcome.

  Marnie shook hands with her. “Nice to meet you, too,” she said, taking in this woman’s open, direct smile. She liked her immediately. “I’m looking forward to my stay here. And my room is—” she let her gaze drift to Luke—and only one word came to mind “—gorgeous. Though a little small,” she added, eliciting a smile from him as he lowered Ethan to the floor.

  “I’ll take Ethan for his dinner and maybe I’ll see you later,” Mary said, giving Luke a long sideways glance before taking Ethan by the hand and leading him out.

  “I’m hungry,” Ethan announced again on his way out the door.

  “How does mac and cheese sound?” Mary asked.

  “Yes!” Ethan could be heard racing down the hall despite Mary’s warning to slow down and wait for her.

  “He’s a sweet little boy. He and I had a great time outside.”

  “Thanks again for watching him. I don’t usually leave him alone like that, especially at this time of the evening.”

  “Not a problem. You and your wife must be so proud of him.”

  Luke’s eyes swept her face, and his expression faltered. “My wife died three years ago, around this time, actually.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know.”

  “There’s no reason you should.”

  Her heart went out to him. How hard it must be to lose the one person you loved, especially at Christmas, and be left to raise a child alone. She searched for something appropriate to say, but realized that he was past being helped by words of sympathy. No wonder his eyes looked so haunted.

  He smoothed his hand over his hair. “Would you—” He stopped as if he remembered something. “Would you like to have dinner with me this evening?”

  He smiled his son’s smile, and Marnie was captivated. “I would.”

  “Then why don’t I meet you in the bar around nine? We could have a drink and talk—” He shrugged. “Talk about anything you want.”

  He seemed uneasy. Why? Surely he had his pick of women who would happily go to dinner with him. “I would love to have dinner with you.” She waited to see if he’d say anything more, and when he didn’t she headed for the door, sucking her stomach in, hoping to appear thin and beautiful in spite of the fact that she was still wearing the same pair of jeans she’d been napping in only a short time ago. “See you soon,” she said.

  Marnie was nearly bursting out of her skin. She had a date with the most gorgeous man she’d ever met, and that was the truth, pure and simple.

  A real live date. Wonders never ceased.

  She literally skipped up the first flight of stairs. Belatedly, she realized that she had exactly one dress with her that would be suitable for a date—a little black dress that was still in the bottom of her suitcase. And one pair of canary-yellow heels to wear with it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  A HALF HOUR LATER MARNIE stood at the entrance to the bar, trying not to look at her feet. She had bigger problems, she noted, as she held her head high to keep the V of her dress from puckering. The few times she’d donned this dress she’d worn her Victoria’s Secret push-up bra to take up the slack created by her less than impressive “front bumpers,” as her brothers used to call them. But the bra in question was resting peacefully back in her underwear drawer at home.

  As for what was on her feet, there was nothing she could do about that particular issue, either. She’d packed her only pair of high heels, prepared to look different and sexy.

  She had different covered, all right.

  When she entered the bar, some of the men stopped talking and watched her walk past them. Sliding up onto a bar stool, she quietly assessed the bartender. He was a man around her age, she guessed, and the hairdresser in her wanted the opportunity to restyle his hair, shorten the top, maybe....

  He came over to her immediately, and with a welcoming smile planted his hands on the bar. “What can I get you this evening?”

  He had a pleasant voice, and his manner put her immediately at ease. “Chardonnay?” she asked, feeling good about herself, all because she was about to have a glass of wine while waiting for her date. So maybe it wasn’t a regular date, and maybe there’d only be one, but one was better than none.

  “Coming right up,” the bartender said, snapping open a bar fridge under the counter behind him. She peered up at the ornate carving on the wood framing the bar. It looked like a stag and a dove.

 
; A woman dressed in a bright red top and black pants sat down on the stool next to her. “Do you mind?” the woman asked, her blond hair—a good color job, Marnie noted—swaying around her high cheek bones and sparkling blue eyes.

  “Not at all. I’m Marnie.” She smiled, happy to have someone to chat with while she waited for Luke.

  “I’m Cindy. So nice to meet you.”

  “You, too. Are you staying at the inn?”

  “Yes. It’s our fifth wedding anniversary. My husband and I were married here in Wakesfield just before Christmas five years ago. The minister from the local Episcopalian church married us. I wanted a church wedding so much, and my husband was willing to go along.” She adjusted the neckline of her red top. “You know how men are about weddings. They’d just as soon go to a justice of the peace, but I wanted a big wedding.”

  “I did, too, once,” Marnie said, drawn to this woman’s openness.

  “Are you married? Are you taking part in the Christmas Getaway event?”

  Marnie tucked her naked ring finger out of sight. “No, but the getaway sounds like fun.”

  “When we heard about it, my husband and I were thrilled. He doesn’t usually take this much time off so close to Christmas, but I talked him into it. One of the couples we met this afternoon is also here celebrating an anniversary.” She glanced toward the door. “I don’t know what can be keeping my husband. Even though we’re on holiday, he’s calling his office, but it shouldn’t be taking this long.”

  Glad to be off the hook on the marriage thing, Marnie leaned forward wondering where her drink was. She noticed that her dress was gaping open, and she pushed her shoulders back. “Where does your husband work?”

  “He owns a business in Boston. And he’s always so busy, I worry about him.”

  “It takes a lot to start a business these days, but it’s even harder to make a success of it.”

  “Don’t I know it! I’d like to start a family, but my sweetie feels we’re not ready. He says after he hires one more salesperson, we’ll be able to concentrate on starting a family.” She smiled wistfully at Marnie. “Do you have children—”