Their Yuletide Promise

by Stacy Connelly

  “I think we’ll forgive you this time,” Aunt Evelyn said, “considering...”

  Evie’s cheeks heated as her aunt’s voice trailed away. She really didn’t want her aunt considering anything about what she and Griffin James hadn’t done the night before.

  This was all a mistake, a misunderstanding, a make-believe relationship. Three M-words instead of the 4-F plan that had started this in the first place.

  But if she admitted that, she would be right back in the first place, back at square one, with the wedding days away and no date in sight. “I know this whole...thing has come as a surprise, but I promise you, my...relationship won’t interfere with work.”

  “Why on earth not? If I had a man like that in my bed, you wouldn’t see me for a week.”

  “Aunt E!” Evie protested, the shock missing from her aunt’s voice this morning clearly present in her own.

  “What?” her aunt questioned. “Granted, I’m old enough to be his mother, but I’m not dead yet.” And with that announcement, her aunt excused herself to go raid the hotel’s wine cellar for some champagne and apple cider for the bride-to-be.

  Shaking her head as her aunt left the room, Evie murmured, “Honestly, I don’t know what has gotten into her.”

  “What’s gotten into her?” Rory echoed. “How about what’s gotten into you?”

  “Look, I know this must all seem...sudden.” Evie cringed a little as she glanced around the room at the festive clusters of blue and silver balloons tied to the backs of the chairs, the banner draped behind the tables spelling out Alexa’s and Chance’s names... A banner that a few months ago would have linked Alexa and Griffin.

  Rory made a strangled sound. “What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking that I deserve a life of my own. That I want to go out and go dancing with a man who’s fun and exciting and interested in me!”

  And even though Evie wanted to believe she was simply following the plan, playing her part, every word she’d said was true. She wanted all of that and more...

  “And you really think it’s all a coincidence?” Rory was asking as Evie tried to bring her thoughts back from Griffin to focus on the ultimate goal.

  What do you want, Evie?

  Hillcrest House. She wanted Hillcrest House. And—heaven help her—she wanted Griffin James.

  “At a time when Aunt E is considering selling the hotel, Griffin James just happens to show up here?”

  “He’s here for the wedding. You know he and Alexa grew up together. Other than her grandmother, Griffin is the closest thing Alexa has to family. That’s why she asked him to walk her down the aisle.”

  “Sure, now,” Rory pointed out. “But what about two months ago? What brought him here then?”

  Evie opened her mouth, but no words came out.

  No. It wouldn’t be. It couldn’t be. Evie had done her homework before stepping in for her aunt. She’d researched what made five-star hotels five-star, and almost every article she’d read mentioned Frederick James and his chain of exclusive hotels.

  How many times had she come across a James hotel in articles and advertisements? The brand’s logo was a magical creature with the body, tail and legs of a lion and the head and wings of an eagle. A creature known as a gryphon.

  Or...griffin.

  She’d seen the emblem lording over the James hotels—towering steel and chrome and glass edifices. Soaring above the skylines in New York, Chicago, San Francisco, Amsterdam. State-of-the-art, ultramodern buildings that won global recognition for their cutting-edge designs.

  Everything Hillcrest House was not.

  Hillcrest was quaint. It was old-fashioned. The aging structure held fast to its history, clinging with a sense of nostalgia to a more romantic time.

  The idea of Hillcrest House boasting the James symbol seemed as likely as a luxury car manufacturer slapping its logo on a horse-drawn carriage and rolling it out as an upcoming model. Nothing about it added up, and Evie grasped the logical conclusion like a lifeline.

  “You’re wrong about Griffin,” Evie insisted.

  Doubt filled Rory’s expression as she said, “I hope so, Evie. For both our sakes, I really do.”

  * * *

  “So, how did the two of you meet?”

  “Was it love at first sight?”

  “What are your plans for after the wedding?”

  The questions were nothing unusual for a bridal shower, only none of the curious women were looking at Alexa. All eyes had turned to Evie.

  “It wasn’t me,” Rory protested when Evie shot her a look. “I didn’t say a word.”

  “Are you kidding?” Debbie Pirelli, owner of Sugar & Spice Café and the exclusive designer of Hillcrest House’s wedding cakes, exclaimed. “News of you dirty dancing with Griffin James is all over town!”

  Laughter and whistles followed that pronouncement, and Evie’s face burned even as she tried to remind herself that these women were Rory and Alexa’s friends. That they were teasing her and not making fun of her. But she’d learned her lesson with Eric Laughlin. Two and a half years ago, she’d told everyone who would listen about her “perfect” boyfriend. He’d fooled her completely and Evie had fallen for every stupid, sappy line. She’d sworn she would never make a fool of herself over a man again.

  Keeping that vow had been easy. She’d buried most of her emotions right alongside her broken heart. Yet somehow here she was, once again, with her private life open for discussion, building herself up for an epic fail. Her cousin’s words played against her own doubts, and Evie’s thoughts had been ping-ponging back and forth throughout the entire shower.

  Rory was wrong about Griffin.

  What if she was wrong about Griffin?

  Griffin was interested in her.

  What if Griffin’s only interest was in the hotel?

  At least Debbie had waited until the end of the event to start her interrogation. Only Alexa and her bridesmaids were still seated around the table amid empty dessert plates sprinkled with devil’s food cake crumbs, a rainbow of discarded ribbons and bows, and colorful wads of wrapping paper. But with all the attention focused on her, Evie felt as though the few bites of rich, decadent chocolate cake she’d eaten earlier were lodged in her throat.

  Without waiting for Evie to respond, Debbie turned to Alexa. “You must have known about this, right?”

  The beautiful blonde shook her head as she fingered the ribbons on a “bouquet” made up of the brightly colored bows pulled from her presents. Even at five months pregnant, Alexa possessed a grace and elegance Evie envied. Raised to be the face of the philanthropic organization started by Virginia Mayhew, her wealthy grandmother, Alexa was always perfectly poised.

  “I’ve been so busy with wedding details I haven’t had a chance to spend much time with Griffin.” Glancing between the two cousins, Alexa said, “I know this whole situation is unusual. Having Griffin give me away when—”

  “You almost married him?” Evie blurted out the words without thinking and winced when Rory’s shoe connected with her shin beneath the table.

  Alexa shook her head. “We wouldn’t have gone through with it. When I first found out I was pregnant, I was...overwhelmed. Chance was half a world away and not a man who had any interest in being a husband or father. Or at least that’s what I thought, and Griffin...” She laughed. “Well, he has a habit of rescuing damsels in distress. He’s been looking out for me since we were eight years old.”

  All women not named McClaren offered a heartfelt awww at Griffin the hero.

  “It was never anything more than friendship between us. He thought maybe if we married...”

  “If you married, what?” That eager question had come from Sophia Pirelli Cameron, Debbie’s sister-in-law, saving Evie’s shin from another kick had she been the one to insist Alexa continue.

  “Gr
iffin’s grandfather left him an inheritance, but the terms of the trust are ambiguous, to say the least. Griffin’s been working like a madman to try to prove himself to his father. He thought us getting married might convince his father that he’s settled and responsible enough to pursue his own dreams.”

  A handful of words shouldn’t have had the power to turn Evie’s world upside down, but everything she knew—everything she thought she knew—about Griffin was suddenly in doubt. Flirtatious lady’s man Griffin sacrificing his freedom as a bachelor to marry a woman carrying another man’s child? Golden boy, heir-to-the-empire Griffin struggling to prove his worth to his father? Live-for-the-moment Griffin longing after some distant dream?

  “But wasn’t Griffin the one who encouraged you to tell Chance that you were pregnant with his child?” Lindsay Kincaid, another of Alexa’s bridesmaids, leaned forward in her chair, engrossed in the story.

  Alexa nodded. “He did. But that’s the kind of man Griffin is. He’d never put his own happiness ahead of someone he cared about.”

  The women gave another group sigh, but Rory muttered beneath her breath, “Or maybe he found another way to impress his father.”

  “Right.” Evie didn’t bother to keep her own voice down. “Because it’s not like any man would actually be interested in me for me.” Even though a wealth of sarcasm weighted her words, she had to wonder. Really, what was more likely—Griffin wanting to pretend to be her boyfriend to make her dreams come true or trying to find a way to cash in on his own?

  “All right,” Debbie demanded. “What is going on between the two of you this morning?”

  Not one to beat around the bush, Evie blurted out, “Our aunt is thinking of selling the hotel.”

  “Sell Hillcrest House?”

  As the bridesmaids voiced their protests to the idea of the historic Clearville landmark being sold, Evie’s stomach rolled at the hint of guilt that touched Alexa’s lovely face.

  “That is the reason why Griffin and I came to Clearville in the first place,” Alexa confessed. “His father heard the hotel might be for sale, but Griffin has spent the past two months overseeing a construction site overseas and he hasn’t mentioned Hillcrest House since.”

  A sheen of tears filled her eyes as she added, “I don’t have nearly the claim that you do, but the hotel is special to me, too. Chance and I couldn’t imagine having our wedding anywhere else.”

  “Did your aunt tell you why she’s thinking of selling?” Lindsay asked.

  Because she doesn’t trust me to run it. Evie had failed her aunt before. If Rory was right and the James empire was ready to throw its impressive gold-plated global hat in the ring, what chance did Evie have of changing her aunt’s mind?

  * * *

  With James hotels spanning the world and technology being what it was, Griffin could work 24/7 from almost anywhere. After ordering a mouthwatering breakfast of fluffy scrambled eggs, crisp toast and perfectly cooked apple-smoked bacon, he had spent the next several hours in his suite, making phone calls, returning emails, going over the latest progress reports for a new hotel. But in the back of his mind, he’d known he was killing time until he could see Evie again and before long, he’d made his way down to the lobby.

  The last time he’d been at Hillcrest House, the welcoming area had been decked out for fall. Now the dark walnut panels were trimmed with all the holiday colors as green garlands dotted with bright bursts of holly circled the carved square columns and enormous red-and-gold wreaths hung on the walls. Lit trees glowed from every corner, and even the coffee table in front of him held a small wooden sleigh filled with pine cones and silver bells.

  All of the decorations that were conspicuously missing from Evie’s place.

  Perhaps being surrounded by so much holiday cheer, she hadn’t felt the need to decorate the tiny cottage. Griffin doubted that was the reason. He had the feeling Evie was seriously missing the Christmas spirit, while he seemed to have suddenly found his.

  He’d even asked the age-old question.

  What do you want, Evie?

  Griffin knew all he wanted was to make her wishes come true.

  He tossed the flyer of upcoming holiday events he’d been flipping through onto the table and stood as he caught sight of her. She’d traded in her long-sleeved shirt and flannel pj’s from that morning for an emerald green silk shirt tucked into a straight black skirt. A pair of shiny calf-skimming boots made her legs look endless and sexy as hell.

  His pulse hit full throttle as her determined stride carried her across the lobby. She faltered for a split second as she caught sight of him, but she recovered quickly as she headed straight toward him.

  “Hey, sweetheart, how was the shower?”

  She scowled at the wink he shot her but didn’t say a word as she caught his arm and practically dragged him across the floral-patterned carpet and toward the double doors leading to the front porch.

  Midmorning fog wrapped the house, and the air was cool and damp. Low-lying clouds hovered above the tree line, but that was nothing compared to the storm gathering in Evie’s expression.

  “As flattered as I am by how eager you are to get me alone, why do I get the feeling something’s wrong?”

  Dropping her hold on his arm, Evie walked to the garland-wrapped railing before turning back. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest in the same spot where he and her cousin Chance had had their fight during his first visit.

  No doubt about it. If he ended up with any blood on his shirt this time, it would be courtesy of Evie McClaren. “As if you don’t know.”

  “Oh, come on! The shower couldn’t have been that bad.”

  Unless she’d told everyone that his spending the night wasn’t how it had appeared. His amped-up anticipation deflated, leaving him strangely disappointed. After she’d gutted her way through the introductions to her aunt and cousin, he’d really thought Evie was going to go along with the plan.

  Taking up her aunt’s challenge, but on her own terms, was so...Evie. He didn’t like thinking of her backing down. Or maybe it was more than that. Maybe he wasn’t ready to let go of any plan that had the two of them spending more time together.

  “Everyone knows we left the bar together last night.”

  “Small-town gossip, but doesn’t that work perfectly with your plan?”

  “My plan? Was this ever really my plan, Griffin, or was this your plan from the very start?”

  “You’re gonna have to help me out a little here. I’m guessing the sofa in your living room isn’t nearly as comfortable as your bed—and by the way, you have to at least give me a little credit for choosing to sleep there instead of with you where I wanted to be.” Another choked sound escaped her throat. “So can you cut me a little slack and tell me what you’re talking about?”

  “I’m talking about why you’re really here.”

  “For Alexa and Chance’s wedding. You know that.”

  “And that’s the only reason? It’s not because, say, you heard my aunt is thinking about selling the hotel?”

  Griffin hesitated long enough for Evie to come to her own conclusion. “Rory was right. I can’t believe it.” She swore beneath her breath as her arms fell to her sides. “I can’t believe how I went on and on about how much I want to run Hillcrest House and you didn’t say one word about trying to buy it out from under me!”

  Her lack of faith in him stung more than he wanted to admit. “Look, Evie, this isn’t Monopoly,” he pointed out, an edge of sarcasm to his words. “Just because I land in a certain hotel, that doesn’t automatically mean it’s going to be swallowed up by the evil James empire. My father heard the hotel might be up for sale, but I’m telling you, Hillcrest House doesn’t fit the James brand.”

  “Hillcrest is a gorgeous hotel! The location, the history behind this building—”

  “Do you want us to buy the p
lace?” he cut in.

  Evie snapped her mouth shut. He could practically hear her molars grinding together before she said, “It’s—it’s a money pit. Bad investment all around.”

  “That’s what I thought.” A wry smile curved his lips. “And I will tell you the same thing I told my father when I was here two months ago.”

  He reached out again, this time resisting her meager efforts to pull away as he grasped her shoulders and drew her closer. The thin material of her shirt slid over the silken skin beneath, and Griffin felt the pull of desire tighten his gut.

  She kept her face stubbornly averted, but he didn’t let that stop him. He tilted his head until she gave a sigh and rolled her eyes in his direction. “Evie McClaren is the most hardheaded, stubborn, determined woman that I have ever met, and she is not going to give up without a fight. Her aunt will never sell Hillcrest House as long as she has anything to say about it.”

  “You said that?”

  “I did.”

  Her lashes lowered as if he’d lavished her with the most flowery, over-the-top compliments. That mix of confidence and insecurity drew him in, fascinating him as much as the contrast of her blunt-cut dark hair blowing across her smooth cheek.

  Unable to resist, he tucked a stray strand behind her ear, running his fingertip across skin the entire way and feeling his blood heat as a flush of color rose in its wake. He drew in a deep breath of cool ocean-damp air, but the scent combined with Evie’s warm vanilla and spice only added to the desire burning in his veins.

  The longing intensified as her tongue darted out to lick her upper lip, and he could almost taste the sweetness of her kiss, revel in the softness of her lips against his own...

  Feminine voices rang out as the lobby doors swung open and some of the women from the bridal shower—Alexa and Rory included—stepped onto the porch. They were laughing as they pushed a brass luggage cart loaded with presents and decorated with a dozen silver and blue balloons. The laughter faded into whispers as they caught sight of Griffin and Evie huddled together in the far corner.