part0006

I shouldn’t be pacing my room at Snowed Inn Lodge like a wild, unhinged animal, but I am.

I shouldn’t have this unstoppable urge to go to her room and see what those perfect lips taste like, but I do.

Why? I’m messed up in the head.

If she’s Gabriella's best friend, that must mean she’s around the same age. And as much as my sordid mind entertained thoughts of showing her what a real French kiss feels like, I can’t go there with a girl who’s young enough to be my daughter.

It’s wrong on too many levels.

Being with Holly, in the diner yesterday afternoon, was the first time in years I’ve actually felt like myself. I actually enjoyed her company. Liked listening to her. I didn’t feel awkward or out of place. She made me feel comfortable… excited. I didn’t have to impress her. I wanted to.

So yeah, it blows that I can’t be with the one girl who evoked those long-lost feelings. I think the last time I’d felt anything remotely like that was when I was eighteen and dating Gabrielle’s mom. What a train wreck that turned out to be.

Sighing, I make my way over toward the balcony doors and push them open. The fresh morning air hits me straight away; the icy chill bites at my skin. Stepping out, I cup my hands in front of my face and breathe hot air into them. Kids below my balcony are making snow angels on the crisp untouched snow, and their loud squeals of laughter echo through the air. This place is a literal Christmas movie.

The mouth-watering smell of bacon wafts up my nose and my stomach growls. I haven’t eaten a thing since the diner yesterday afternoon, and now I’m starving.

Heading back inside, I close the doors and make my way downstairs.

“ A re you sure I can’t help?” Holly’s gentle voice asks my stubborn as hell grandmother, and I smile.

Rounding the corner to the kitchen, I see my grandmother getting something out of the oven, and Holly sitting at the table twiddling her thumbs.

Gene Autry's Here Comes Santa Claus plays quietly in the background. Several Garland line the doors leading out into the Lodges' garden area. A large and extremely over-decorated Christmas tree stands in the corner by the fireplace. And a poinsettia sits pride of place in the center of the dining room table.

Bringing the tray of sausages out and onto the stovetop, grandmother pushes off the oven gloves. “Child, I’m more than capable of getting sausages out of the oven,” she admonishes gently, giving Holly a grateful smile. “Besides, you’re my guest. The only thing you should be worrying about is having some fun and planning my great granddaughter's birthday party.”

Pressing a kiss to my grandmother’s hair, I grab a plate from the stack by the food warmers. “Is Holly giving you a hard time, grandmother?” I wink playfully at Holly whose now moved and is standing by the table, mouth slack with shock.

“Me?” She points at herself. “I’m only trying to help. I don’t like to see people suffer if I can prevent it.”

Passing her a plate, I lean over and whisper in her ear. “I’m joking, Martha . Lighten up a little bit.” My body responds to her fruity scent in ways it shouldn’t.

Her breath hitches and I inwardly fist pump. Hell yes. I’m affecting her just as much as she’s affecting me.

Nothing can happen between us. I’m painfully aware of that. Doesn’t mean I can’t tease her a little.

“Did you just call me a money-grabbing gold-digger ?”

Turning back around, I scoop some eggs onto my plate then do the same to hers. “You said she’s misunderstood, right? She just wants a little romance?”

“Yeah, but still!” Holly shrieks. “I’m not a money-grabbing gold-digger!”

God, she’s cute when she’s angry.

“I never said you were.” I offer a crooked smirk. “I’m just saying maybe you need to be romanced.”

Raising her eyebrows, Holly shakes her head at me. “You’re all kinds of confusing, Nick Clayton.”

My grandmother sets up the percolators on the table and grabs three cups. As her eyes dart between, this weird smile lights up her features.

“What are your plans for today?” Grandmother inquires.

Grabbing the rest of my breakfast, I walk back to the table and slide Holly’s chair out.

Setting her plate on the table, Holly looks up at me with a grateful smile. “Thank you.” She sits down, and I push her chair in. “I was actually thinking we could get started on Gabby's birthday party. We only have a few days until she’s due to arrive, and I’d like to get the majority of it done.”

“Nonsense.” Grandmother swats her hand dismissively. “You have plenty of time to plan for that. Nick, why don’t you take her into town? Show her the Christmas market?”

I take a seat in between the two women and look up. “I was actually going to finish up some work after I’ve picked up my car. But I’m more than happy to show Holly around later,” I compromise.

Grandmother tilts her head, giving me a disapproving look. “Nicholas Joseph Clayton . Work will be there when you’re dead and buried. Holly can take you to get your car. Then you can take her out and have some fun.”

Holly blushes and sets her fork down. “Gladys, honestly, it’s fine. If Nick has work to do, that has to take priority. Besides, I’m sure I can find my way around.”

I look to my troublesome, matchmaking grandmother. “See? She’ll be fine.”

Dropping her silverware, Grandmother drops her head into her frail hands. “Lord, save me from the stubbornness of this boy.” She pins me with a glare. “So you’re going to tell me that the man I raised is going to leave this poor young girl on her own in a town she doesn’t know? What if she gets lost? Or stuck in the snow? You just going to leave her to freeze?”

I stiffen at the thought of her being lost or in danger.

After all, she’d saved my ass from the treacherous conditions. Last thing I wanted was for her to face them as well.

“If I get lost, I’ll ask someone for directions.”

Grandmother raises an expectant brow at me and crosses her arms. “Boy, don’t make me whoop your ass.”

Sighing, I slump back in my seat. “Fine. But I can’t be out too long. I have emails to send off. The internet connection is shoddy around here at the best of times.”

Holly reaches out and places a hand on mine. It’s an innocent gesture, but Jesus if my heart isn’t doing summersaults in my chest.

“It’s really okay if you can’t. I know how important work is. Please don’t feel obligated to take me.”

I squeeze her hand. “I don’t feel obligated. It'd be my pleasure to show you around, especially considering what you did for me yesterday. I’ll even buy you a hot chocolate.” I wink and she laughs.