Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
The best thing about being back in Blowing Rock was being back in Blowing Rock at Christmas time. I mean, seriously, how could anyone not love it? Every single storefront, lamp post, and tree was covered in twinkling lights, wreaths, and enough glitter to make even the North Pole jealous. It was like a Hallmark movie had overdosed on Christmas spirit and exploded all over town. And honestly, I was here for it. Every cheesy, over-the-top second.
The town square looked like a gingerbread village come to life, bustling with people who seemed to thrive on holiday cheer like it was some kind of sugar-induced superpower. I smiled, taking it all in, the air crisp and cool at a perfect 50 degrees; ideal for wearing a scarf without actually needing one. God, I just loved this time of year.
The first place I needed to hit on the way to the inn was the café. It was part of my ritual of being home. The cozy little coffeehouse was calling my name, and I couldn't wait to warm up with a steaming cup of something festive and full of marshmallows. But before I could make my way there, something small and fast ran smack into my legs, almost taking me down.
"Oh, hey! Whoa, there!" I exclaimed, steadying myself just in time to look down and saw a pair of wide, innocent blue eyes staring up at me. The little girl had a red woolen hat on with a pom-pom bouncing atop her head as if it were as surprised as she was.
"Sorry!" she squeaked, her face full of panic and determination. In her arms was the most enormous wreath I’d ever seen, practically bigger than her. I mean, it looked like she was trying to wrestle an entire Christmas tree into submission.
"Whoa, where are you taking that thing so fast, kid? Trying to save Santa from an emergency or something?" I couldn’t help but laugh. She blinked up at me, then grinned.
"No, I'm helping my dad. He’s being all Christmas grumpy," she whispered, conspiratorially. I chuckled. This kid was the cutest thing ever.
"Well, looks like you both need some help. Where’s this grumpy dad of yours?"
She pointed toward the inn across the street—the Maplewood Inn.
Wow. My mom said the place could use some holiday sprucing up and looking at it now, she wasn’t wrong. There wasn’t a single wreath, ribbon, or even a sprinkle of tinsel in sight. Apparently, the owner was about as festive as a lump of coal.
And right on cue, a deep voice that could melt snow called out, "Mae! Where did you run off to?"
And then I saw him.
Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding came striding out of the inn, wearing an expression that suggested he'd just stepped in reindeer poop. His hair was mussed, like he hadn’t bothered to tame it after a long night, and his flannel shirt clung to him in all the right ways, like it was designed for broody innkeepers who looked like they belonged on a lumberjack calendar. But that scowl could probably turn a snowman into a puddle.
"Over here, Daddy!" Mae called, her tiny voice full of excitement. The man’s eyes shifted to me—oh, dark and stormy, just like his demeanor—and he paused, taking me in.
I raised my hand in a wave. "Hey there, Daddy. I think your Christmas elf here has decided to take on the whole decorating situation by herself. She thinks someone else has been acting a little too grumpy.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and for a split second, I thought I saw the ghost of a smile tug at his lips. But then, nope, he shut that down real quick. "I’ve got it under control," he said, his voice low and measured, as he took the wreath from Mae with one arm and gave me a nod that could only be described as a “thank you, now go away.”
The way he manhandled the wreath looked like he was in part of some kind of festive cage match. Pine needles everywhere.
"Sure looks like it." I rolled my eyes, unable to help myself. “Do you maybe need a hand there, lumberjack? Or are you planning on intimidating that wreath into place?”
His scowl deepened. "No, thank you. I’m sure you’d rather get back to...whatever it was you were doing."
I raised an eyebrow. “I was actually sent here to see some grumpy innkeeper about his not-so-festive inn, Mr...?"
“Ethan,” he said, coldly. “And you are?”
“Holly,” I replied, flashing a grin. “Like the Christmas decoration. You know, the stuff you’re clearly allergic to?”
Mae giggled beside him, and for a moment, Ethan’s scowl softened just a bit as he glanced down at her, then back at me. “I’m not allergic to decorations. Just...excessive glitter.”
“Well, then.” I beamed at him, taking a step closer, leaning in as if I was sharing a big secret. “You’re in the wrong town, Ethan. Blowing Rock might as well be sponsored by the glitter industry this time of year.”
He sighed deeply, like a man who had long accepted his fate but wasn’t happy about it. “Unfortunately, I’m aware.”
Mae tugged on his sleeve, her face lit up with excitement. “Daddy, she could help us! She’s funny.”
I glanced up at him, daring him to refuse. He looked like he was mentally calculating the risk of letting me loose in his inn, clearly torn between protecting his grinchy status and Mae’s hopeful eyes. Finally, he sighed again, clearly resigned to his fate. “You any good at decorating, Holly?”
I shrugged, fighting a grin. “I’m a professional, actually. What do you say about letting me give this place a little holiday makeover?”
His lips pressed into a thin line, but I could see the struggle in his eyes—not just the struggle to put up with me, but something deeper. He sighed again. “Fine. But no glitter.”
“No promises,” I shot back with a wink.
Mae cheered, and before I knew it, I was following them both into the inn. Ethan held the door for me, but looked like he regretted it almost immediately. I stepped inside, and a rush of warmth hit me, along with the faint scent of pine and the cozy crackle of a fire.
I glanced around, and though the inn had its charm, it needed a good dose of Christmas cheer. The place felt more like a lodge for travelers just passing through rather than a festive getaway.
I turned to him. “Alright, Scrooge. Let’s get to work. I promise by the time we’re done, you might just crack a smile.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
Mae giggled again, and I smiled down at her. “I like a challenge.”
Ethan muttered something under his breath, something that sounded suspiciously like “so do I,” but I let it slide.