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The Sleigh Bells Chalet: A Small Town Romance (Christmas House Romances Book 2)

Page 8

by Jennifer Griffith


  “I don’t know if they’re ever going to bring our menus. Would you like to walk on the deck?” Out on the deck, he could touch her more. “I know it’s cold.”

  Ellery blinked at him. “I highly doubt I’ll notice.”

  Bing jumped to his feet and helped her out of her chair. Neither will I.

  Sliding glass doors led onto the deck—just as the waitress walked up with menus.

  “We’ll be back. Can you save our table?” he asked as he led her outside, where he took her in his arms. “Ellery Hart?”

  “Yes?” Her chin tilted upward. Despite her assertion, she did shiver. They hadn’t put on their coats and only wore their layers of shirts and sweaters against the chill.

  “You’re cold.” Bing, too, shivered—not necessarily from the shock of icy air with each breath. This woman had him electrified.

  He pulled her close. “Is that better?” They were alone on the deck, just the two of them under the starry skies.

  “Almost.” Her voice grew sultry. In the evening light, her eyes dilated, and he could have fallen into their inky depths. “Closer,” she whispered.

  Oh, he could do closer. He tightened his arms around her shoulders, pressing her softness against his torso. She smelled like flowers, even in the smoke-tinged night air of this mountain town. He pressed his nose into her silken locks, closing his eyes just to inhale her irresistible femininity.

  “Even closer,” she whispered, letting out a little sigh when he embraced her flush against his chest. Their gazes locked, and their breath synchronized. “Bing,” she whispered, her whole body becoming supple in his embrace and turning all the icy air around them to fire.

  He met her softly parted mouth with his own.

  Kissing Ellery Hart was like a ride on the fastest thoroughbred down the steepest hill with no bottom in view. The whoosh of the race deafened him, and he heard nothing, felt nothing else. Nothing existed but this kiss, this dive into the depths of their connection.

  Every pass of her velvet lips across his shot him farther and farther into the land of no return. A brush of her cheek, a wisp of her breath, transported him from wonder to wonder and from wish to wish, desire to desire—as her hands ran up his spine, across his neck and through his hair.

  “I think I wanted this before I even met you.” She was what he’d been missing, know it or not. “That man who left you at the altar was a fool. How could he miss out on this?”

  She gasped and pulled away, allowing a frigid wall of air between their bodies. “He had a good reason,” she said.

  Ellery

  I’m kissing Bing Whitmore. We’re kissing like nothing else exists. Oh, merciful brown-paper packages tied up with string.

  Bing Whitmore was all of her favorite things.

  More than that, kissing Bing Whitmore was like free-falling. His lips erased Newton’s laws for her internal organs, throwing them into zero gravity, and spinning Ellery off into a tumbling flight through a crystal-studded tunnel across the galaxy.

  Until, that rocket-ship ride clunked to a halt. Why did he have to bring up Greg Maxwell?

  “He had a good reason.”

  “I doubt that.” Bing looked earnest. Ellery suddenly caught the same chill thoughts of Greg always brought on.

  “Maybe we should go order our dinner.” Ellery pulled open the slider and the hot air of the room billowed out. “The waitress is back to get our orders.”

  At the table, Bing ordered prime rib, and Ellery asked for the same, with a side of slaw. A basket of fresh bread and muffins steamed between them, flanked by little gold-foil packets of butter pats. Ellery reached for a slice and slathered three pats of butter on it. Comfort food was her centering friend.

  Bing didn’t take any bread. He just gazed across the table at her. It wasn’t pity, thank goodness, in his look—more concern. “I’m guessing there’s more to the story you told me about the non-wedding. Greg, was that his name?”

  Greg. Yes. High school sweetheart. The only man Ellery had ever loved. “While I was first working in Reedsville, at the accounting firm, Greg married someone else. Lisa. She was older than we were in school, popular, wealthy parents. Yes, it crushed me.” Like an old tin can, crunching under the steel-posted heel of a boot.

  “I thought you said …”

  “After a year or so, they split up, and Greg reached out. He said he wanted us to try, that we hadn’t really given us a try.”

  “So you came back.”

  “And tried.” Ellery looked down at her left hand’s ring finger. Empty, where it had once worn a diamond. “I should have known it was too good to be true. For me.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  Bing was right. She shouldn’t say that. She’d spent long, introspective months changing that narrative with herself. She liked herself again until she went mental-tripping back to that rejection.

  “While I was fretting about wedding plans—things like whom would I get to walk me down the aisle, since my dad wasn’t going to, and Grandpa Bell had just died—Greg only showed passive interest. Grooms, I thought at the time. They never want to make these decisions. So, I spent nights, my savings, arranging everything from clothes, to the priest, to the venue, to the caterer and the florist, everything. But it turned out Greg wasn’t simply apathetic.”

  Ellery had to stop telling her story while the waitress put the plates of prime rib in front of them. She took a bite of bread to muscle down her heart where it had lodged in her throat.

  It didn’t work.

  “Go on.” Bing didn’t lift a fork or knife. He didn’t even take a sip of water—as if he was too wrapped up in her story.

  A story she’d never told anyone. Not Kit. Certainly not Mom. It was too acidic. Too humiliating.

  But it looks like I’m going to tell this man who loves God’s creatures with reckless abandon and has a giving heart.

  “He wasn’t apathetic—at least not to someone else.” The breadcrumbs turned dry against her tongue. “While I was out wedding shopping, he was ex-wife-visiting. On the morning of our nuptials, Lisa called him to tell him they were expecting a baby.”

  The tips of Ellery’s ears burned—the same temperature as her face afire. She stared at her baked potato, at its sour cream island, at the crinkles of foil where a knife-slice had cut it open.

  I wasn’t enough for Greg. Twice.

  “Ellery.” Bing’s tender voice cut through the buzzing in her ears and penetrated her dark self-loathing. “I can’t even imagine how you felt, losing what you thought was your life’s happiness.”

  Ellery looked up at him, staring, scanning his face. Bing had pinpointed it exactly. It wasn’t so much losing Greg himself, as it was losing the vision of where she’d expected her life would go.

  “I wanted marriage, kids, to be a family together.” Motherhood of more than one child, with a stable father in the home. “His infidelity stole that from me. For a long time it made me think I’d never be enough to make someone choose me first.” Her voice cracked, and she had to swallow hard.

  Bing’s hand shot across the table and grasped hers. His feet reached out as well, hooking his ankles with hers beneath the tabletop, anchoring her to him. “If I ever meet that guy, two things—first, I’ll probably punch him in the jaw for treating you so badly. That guy was a jackwagon.”

  “No, Bing. He’s punished enough simply by the fact he has to keep himself company for … forever.”

  “And second”—Bing went on as if she hadn’t interjected—“I’ll shake the guy’s hand and thank him for showing his true colors before he took his vows with you. Because he freed you so that I could meet you.”

  So Bing could meet her? Did she mean something to him? Was it more than just the crescendo of physical chemistry that had palpably grown between them that kept him around so much? More than the kiss they’d shared on the deck?

  No. It couldn’t be that he was interested in Ellery. Not truly. He was a tourist in Wilder River, in Ellery’
s life. He would come in, hear her story, add it to his collection, and move on with his travels.

  “I don’t blame him anymore. The heart wants what the heart wants. And Greg wanted Lisa.”

  Bing hadn’t let go of her hands, hadn’t started on his delicious dinner. “What does your heart want, Ellery?” His eyes were such a deep brown, and the light of the candle flickered in them. “You deserve whatever that is.”

  In the strength of his gaze, she searched her soul. What did her heart want? Her lips and the rest of her physical body wanted more of Bing, lots more of him. But what did her inner self want?

  “Security, I guess.” Emotional, financial, spiritual. A safe future. It was something she’d never truly experienced. “Though, that might just be the standard female nature.”

  Slowly, Bing nodded. Then he let go of her hands, untangled her ankles and stood. He came to her side of the table and lifted her to her feet, and curling his finger to lift her chin, kissed her.

  This kiss wasn’t sparkling tunnels of ecstasy, it was rocking chairs on a porch in the springtime. It was fresh-baked cookies in the oven. It was laughter with children on a fishing trip to a pond. It was scary and wonderful and fastening. It was a picture of how security might feel if Bing offered it to her long term.

  He broke the kiss and said in a low voice, “You’re a revelation, Ellery Hart.”

  ∞∞∞

  The next afternoon, Ellery couldn’t get her shirt collar to stay straight—much like her thoughts. A half dozen applicants were coming in to be interviewed for the hostler’s job, and she needed her wits. Naturally, her wits had taken a vacation to Optimus Prime Rib, and they were busy gazing out at the cable lights on the pink-stained snow of the ski slopes.

  Revisiting Bing Whitmore’s kiss. Over and over.

  She’d spent the morning getting all arrangements made for Donner and Blitzen’s boarding. The pasture out back would be great in the spring, but for now, they needed someplace sheltered. Fortunately, a half block down the road, behind the apple cider press house, was an old horse barn owned by a neighbor who was happy to rent it to Ellery—and he knew a guy selling bales of alfalfa hay.

  Stop-gap measures complete! But the sooner she could hire a hostler the better.

  “Is it just me, or does Ellery seem off-balance?” Kit and Mom came into the lobby with armloads of Kit’s sewing creations. The couch’s upholstery looked great against the throw pillows they placed on either edge. “I think she might be twitterpated.”

  “Guys, I can hear you. I’m right here.”

  “But are you here here, or somewhere over the rainbow?”

  “She’s dreaming of a white Christmas.”

  Was she really that obviously discombobulated? “I’m getting ready for my interviews.”

  “Is that why your shirt is on inside out, and you keep eating your mom’s pumpkin cookies out of the cake dome on the counter? The ones for the guests?”

  Inside out! “I happen to like pumpkin cookies.”

  Mom lifted a brow. “I can see that. They’re all gone.”

  All gone! Oh, dear.

  “So is half the pot of tea.”

  Oh, heavens.

  Mom put the back of her hand to her mouth and snickered. “It’s fine, dear. Now at least I know they’re good. You’re a discerning eater. Well, maybe not today.” Mom came and hugged her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I was in love once, too.”

  In love! Was that what this was? No. “I’m just nervous about the interviews. They start as soon as the first candidate arrives. We’ve got to have someone for the horses.”

  No sign of Bing yet, but there were ten minutes to go. He and Freya had been gone all morning, which she’d expected, but he was supposed to be back to help with the interviews by now.

  Headlights appeared down in the drive. The first guy to interview soon came up the steps. Eager, early, excellent. This might be the guy for Donner and Blitzen. He wore a brown barn coat and a leer. “Miz Hart?”

  “This way,” she said, leading him into the restaurant area and settling him at the table. “Where are you from, Mr. …”

  “Greevis.” He spelled it out for her, though she’d seen it in his application.

  Oh, that name didn’t bode well. Sounded more like grievous. “Another interviewer will be here shortly, but we can get started on a few preliminaries.”

  “That’s fine by me, just the two of us.” Mr. Greevis’s leer roved up and down Ellery’s frame.

  That had to be because her shirt was on backwards. Nothing more, right?

  Shudder.

  “What’s your experience with horses?” That was what Bing had suggested she ask to start. “Anything recent?”

  Mr. Greevis leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out. “I ride. I bet you do, too. Well. You’ve got a nice seat.”

  The interview ended quickly. Ellery marched back out into the waiting room, excusing Mr. Greevis with a, Thanks for applying. I don’t think you’ll be a good fit for the position, after which Greevis dropped a truly lewd comment.

  Who knew interviewing could be so akin to harassment?

  A second guy rolled up in the parking lot outside—just as Bing descended the stairs. He looked even more handsome than ever, his face covered with invisible trails of last night’s kisses, even if he was late.

  “Sorry. As soon as Freya and I came back from the cocoa shop, I saw you walk in with that first guy, and came right back down as soon as I dropped of my coat. Is he gone already? That was quick.”

  “Not quick enough.” She stretched her neck and shoulders to slough off the residue of greasy Greevis. “I saw down in the parking lot that the second applicant just arrived, though. Let’s hope he’s less lecherous than the last guy.”

  “Lecherous!” Bing shout-whispered, since the new guy was entering the lobby.

  “Hello,” Ellery reached out to shake hands with a man in a yellow stocking cap. “Thank you for coming in.”

  Yellow Stocking Cap guy had only ever ridden horses at dude ranches. He had never even saddled one on his own. Nope. See ya.

  Next, White Stetson guy knew about horses, but when they took him down to the barn behind the cider house to meet Donner and Blitzen, the chemistry between man and beasts was just wrong. Even Ellery could see that.

  The final applicant came through the doors, and she was a vision. “Hi, I’m Mattie Jane Daines.”

  “Hi. So nice to meet you. Would you come in and sit down?” Ellery invited the pretty redhead with the high ponytail and the bright smile to follow her back the restaurant.

  She looked wary, but who wouldn’t be during a job interview?

  “I’m Ellery Hart, owner of the hotel. This is Bing Whitmore, my …” Boyfriend? “Consultant.” Under the table, he placed a hand on her thigh. She covered it with her hand. How could someone be so comforting and discomforting at the exact same time? “Can we start with a little background? What’s your experience?”

  Mattie looked between the two of them, something between fear and confusion on her face. Finally, she nodded and shrugged. “Well, I have done bicycle tours of downtown Vancouver. I have an excellent sense of direction.”

  Bicycle tours? Well, at least that showed she might be able to be a great tour guide of Wilder River. Ellery hadn’t gotten that far with any of the past candidates for the job. “That’s great. Anything else?”

  “I’m working on getting my pilot’s license, but that’s just slowly, piece by piece. I’m best with backcountry. I like hiking, rock climbing, plant identification.”

  Bing cleared his throat. “What about experience with horses?”

  “Uh, some. I like them, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Donner and Blitzen would probably like Mattie. She had a good vibe, but good vibes didn’t hook up teams to carriages.

  “I’m sorry. I’m a little lost here,” the girl said. “Do you always background-check your guests at this hotel? Because if so, that’s awesome, a
nd I can send you credentials. I like a place that is very selective.”

  Guest? At the hotel? Ellery’s throat started to sputter. “Oh, my goodness!” She shot to her feet. “You aren’t here for the hostler job.”

  “I’m here for a job, but not with horses. I’m spending the winter in Wilder River as a backcountry guide. Ice climbing, believe it or not. I saw this darling hotel’s website and couldn’t resist booking a long-term stay here. Sleigh Bells Chalet? That’s just amazing.”

  A guest. They had a long-term guest—besides Bing and Freya.

  “Welcome!” Ellery shook Mattie’s hand vigorously. So much for professionalism. She really wasn’t cut out for it. “Bing and I are in the process of hiring someone to care for a new team of horses and drive a carriage through Wilder River. Please, forgive me for thinking you were our next interviewee. Your timing was too uncanny. Can I give you a free night’s stay as compensation?”

  Mattie just laughed. “I think the story I’ll tell someday will be compensation enough.”

  Ellery had Lenny take Mattie’s bags to her room, which Kit had booked and not told Ellery. Or if she had told her, Ellery’s mind had swept it away, too caught up in reliving the kisses from last night.

  Speaking of Bing, he appeared at her side. “The last applicant didn’t show, I guess.”

  No, he hadn’t.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” There was no one to care for Donner and Blitzen, and Ellery simply didn’t have the know-how. “The team is already here, and I don’t even know how much to feed them. A bale of alfalfa a day? Is that about right?”

  “A bale a day!” Bing stiffened. “I—”

  He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. Then he opened them and looked right at Ellery. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this.”

  “Say what? That I’m an idiot for buying horses with zero knowledge of how to care for them? Because you’d be right.”

  “No, that …” He bit back what looked like pain, and his eyes squeezed shut. With a sharp intake of breath, he blurted, “I’ll do it. I’ll take care of them—and I’ll manage the carriage rides.”

 

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