'Twas the Week Before Christmas. Olivia Miles

      “Have you heard any news on the storm, dear?”

      Evelyn Adler was one of Holly’s favorite guests. She and her husband came twice a year—once in the winter and again in the summer—and Evelyn always requested the Blue Room, claiming it accentuated her eyes. While slightly eccentric, she was well-liked by all members of the staff, and Holly had personally come to see the Adlers as a Christmastime staple.

      “I checked the local news this morning,” Holly informed her, “and they’re still expecting two feet tonight.”

      “Oh dear.” Evelyn’s brow creased and her mouth thinned as she turned to look out the window. The snow was falling steadily, coming down in small, persistent flakes, forming a fresh dusting on the white blanket that had accumulated overnight.

      Holly felt a flicker of worry as she considered the encroaching storm and the effect it would have on her guests and the Christmas traditions she had put such effort into planning. She did her best to mask the concern and said with forced brightness, “I hope it won’t keep you from enjoying some of the activities we have scheduled for the day. Ice skating on the pond, the indoor campfire with s’mores and of course, your favorite—the morning sleigh ride.”

      Evelyn managed a smile. “I do love a good sleigh ride.”

      “Wonderful. Just gather in the lobby at nine and be sure to bundle up,” Holly said, but her guest had turned her attention away, her sky-blue eyes roaming to the right of Holly’s shoulder with sudden interest.

      “My dear,” Evelyn said as she wrapped a hand around Holly’s wrist. “Who is that man?”

      Holly glanced over her shoulder to see Max standing near the doorway studying the breakfast buffet. Her pulse quickened as her breath caught in her chest. Pull it together, Holly!

      Turning back to Evelyn, she mustered a fragment of composure. “That’s one of our guests, Mrs. Adler.”

      “I’ve never seen him before!” Evelyn murmured, her eyes fixed on her subject matter.

      Holly suppressed her amusement when she noticed Nelson Adler shake his head slowly over his wife’s innocent enough behavior from his vantage point near the hearth. She said to Evelyn, “He just arrived last night.”

      Evelyn’s eyes flashed with curiosity and she darted her gaze back to Holly. “Alone?”

      Holly chuckled at the insinuation and, with the hand that wasn’t still in Evelyn’s determined grip, waved a playful finger at her beloved guest. “Now don’t you be getting any ideas into your head, Mrs. Adler.”

      Evelyn’s sharp eyes glistened at the accusation. She opened them wide, innocently explaining, “I’m just saying that if he’s alone...and you’re alone...well, do the math, dear.”

      Holly tossed her head back in laughter, noticing with a slight jolt that she had inadvertently caught the attention of Max himself. Lowering her voice, she decided to put a polite end to the topic. “Enjoy your breakfast, Mrs. Adler. And remember, nine o’clock in the lobby for the sleigh ride.”

      Evelyn reluctantly moved aside, disappointment written all over her face as she pulled her attention away from Max. She glanced back hopefully a few more times as she returned to her table and her eternally patient husband who stared at her over the rim of his reading glasses, shaking his head once more in mock annoyance before burying his nose in the newspaper.

      Left on her own again, Holly did her best to ignore the less than subtle gestures Evelyn was making from her corner, which included larger-than-life head nudging in Max’s direction and mouthing of the word “adorable” with increasing passion. As if I need to be told how gorgeous he is, Holly thought. It was only when Nelson gave his wife a sharp look over the top of his paper that Evelyn lowered her eyes and focused on eating her breakfast.

      Drawing a deep breath for courage, Holly squared her shoulders and quickly plotted her next move before turning around and facing Max. She’d have to say hello to him; there was no room for being coy. He was her guest and she would have to treat him as such. He was no different than...well, than Evelyn Adler herself!

      “Good morning,” Holly said, her voice softer than usual from the sudden tightening in her chest. She forced a shallow breath and smiled up at Max, her heart warming as the corners of his eyes crinkled into a smile.

      “Good morning.” His voice was deep and smooth, and something in the low tone left her with a sense of suggested intimacy, as if Max felt they were in on some special secret together. Locking her gaze for enough time to make her heart sprint, he finally motioned to the buffet. “This is quite a spread.”

      Holly exhaled a burst of pent-up air and with a humble shrug said, “Oh, it keeps the guests happy.”

      “I can see why!” Max grinned, helping himself to a plate.

      She gazed at the buffet, trying to see it through Max’s eyes. Platters of steaming cinnamon French toast, poached apples with vanilla syrup, fluffy scrambled eggs, sliced tomatoes, and crisp asparagus spears were lined side by side on the antique farmhouse table. At the end, tiered trays held fresh buttermilk scones and wild blueberry muffins, as well as several carafes of strong coffee.

      “You have quite a talented chef,” Max said as he added a scone to his heaping plate.

      “I actually do the breakfasts,” Holly muttered, averting her eyes and bracing herself for his reaction. She busied herself by straightening a set of napkins as the heat of Max’s stare burned her cheeks.

      “You made all this?”

      Holly shifted her gaze to his shocked face. He was looking at her as if she were half-crazy, as she knew he would. It must seem like a lot to take on—a whole lot—but Holly loved it and she would have it no other way.

      “I’m an early riser,” she explained as the flush of heat crept around the back of her neck. Realizing her excuse was rather lame, she added, “And I like to cook. It’s the only time of day I can, since Stephen, our chef, takes over lunch and dinner service.”

      Max’s aquamarine eyes sparked with interest. Speechless, he surveyed the buffet once more with an appraising raise of his brow. “Well, I’m impressed.”

      Holly smiled to herself at the compliment. She’d been making breakfast for so long, she had stopped thinking of it as anything more than functional. It was an activity she intrinsically enjoyed, and with the number of guests at one time usually being not more than ten or sometimes twelve—and sometimes as few as four, but thankfully, never less than that—she had become a master of preparing meals for a crowd of this size. It was arranged nicely, she supposed, and one might go so far as to find it impressive.

      Especially a bachelor, she couldn’t help but hope.

      “Sit wherever you’d like,” Holly said. She glanced at a few tables by the window and caught a glimpse of Evelyn Adler watching the interaction with a tickled smile on her lips and a sheen to her eyes that was brighter than the flames in the fireplace. “Maybe this would be a nice spot,” she suggested, pointing to a table farther from Evelyn’s access.

      Max pulled out a chair and sat down as Holly filled his mug with coffee. “If you’re around today, we have some festive activities planned,” she said.

      Max tipped his head. “Festive activities?”

      Holly felt her cheeks flush once more, but she bit back the wave of embarrassment she felt when she saw the twinkle in Max’s blue eyes. He was messing with her—looking for a reaction—just like the boys on the elementary school playground. Not that she wasn’t enjoying the game...too much.

      “Everything’s detailed on the chalkboard in the lobby,” she said as she started to walk back to the kitchen to refill the carafe. Not quite ready to let him out of her sight just yet, she instinctively paused and tilted her head. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”

      Max grinned. “Maybe you will.”

      *