Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Decorating the inn turned out to be more work than I’d anticipated, not because of the sheer amount of garland and lights I wanted to put up, but because Ethan was a walking roadblock to holiday cheer. He kept popping in, grumbling about something or other, like he was some sort of Christmas Quality Control.

“Are those...gingerbread men?” he asked, frowning as I hung a string of gingerbread garland along the banister.

“Why, yes, Sherlock, they are,” I replied, hands on my hips. “Adorable, aren’t they?”

He looked at them like they might bite. “Why do they have bows?”

“Because they’re fancy,” I said. “And everyone knows a well-dressed gingerbread man is key to holiday success.”

He shook his head, clearly trying to hold back a smile. A hint of progress! I mentally high-fived myself. Just give it a few more days of my relentless charm, and this guy would be wearing a Santa hat before he knew what hit him.

The next afternoon, as I was attempting to untangle a mess of Christmas lights, Ethan entered the room with a tray of something that smelled suspiciously like heaven. I glanced up, curious. “What’s that?”

"Hot cocoa," he said, setting the tray down on the coffee table, like it wasn’t a big deal. But let me tell you, itsmelledlike a big deal. Mae practically bounced in behind him, her excitement contagious.

Ooh! Daddy makes thebesthot cocoa!" she declared, already grabbing a mug, her tiny hands barely wrapping around it. She looked up at me with those big, expectant eyes. "Try it, Holly. Daddy’s really good at making things like cocoa. It’s his specialty."

I arched an eyebrow, taking a mug from the tray. “Really? Hot cocoa is your specialty, huh?”

Ethan shrugged, but there was something almost bashful about the way he looked away. “I wouldn’t call it a specialty. Just something special I make for Mae.”

I took a sip, and okay,fine, I had to admit, it was amazing. The perfect mix of rich and creamy, with just the right balance of sweetness. And the marshmallows were to die for. I stared at Ethan over the rim of the mug, narrowing my eyes slightly. "Alright, Mr. Grinch. Maybe you do have a little Christmas spirit hidden somewhere in that broody exterior."

He rolled his eyes, but I could see the corner of his mouth twitching. “Just drink your cocoa, Holly.”

I smirked, and sat down on the couch, savoring the hot cocoa and the tiny victory of getting under his skin—if only a little. "You know, Ethan," I said, tilting my head thoughtfully, "if your innkeeping gig doesn’t work out, you could open a hot cocoa stand. You’d make a fortune in a place like Blowing Rock this time of year."

He gave me a dry look, but I could tell he wasn’t immune to the compliment. "I’ll keep that in mind," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Mae giggled, completely oblivious to the sarcastic dance we were doing, and I couldn’t help but grin at the sight of her, this little ball of sunshine in a world of grown-up grumpiness.

"Alright, cocoa-master," I teased, taking another sip, "now that I’ve had my holiday elixir, I think it’s time we put up the rest of the decorations. I know you’re just dying to help."

His brows knitted together like I’d just suggested we redecorate the entire inn with glitter. "I’m pretty sure you’re capable of handling it on your own," he said, stepping back toward the kitchen like he was planning his escape route.

I laughed, shaking my head. "Nice try, but no way. You’re in this now, Ethan. Christmas spirit doesn’t just happen, it’s a team effort. Besides, if I have to untangle these lights, you can at least help with the tree."

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck like I was asking him to scale Mount Everest. "Fine. But if I see a single piece of glitter, I’m out."

"Glitter, tinsel...it’s all part of the holiday magic," I said with a wink. "You’ll survive."

He shook his head again, muttering about how I was probably going to be the death of him, but I could see it—just beneath that scowl—he was starting to thaw. And honestly? Watching him try to fight it was half the fun.