Just as it had helped him.
She was there on the desk when he strode in. ‘Sorry I’m late.’
‘No sweat.’ She gave him an oddly secretive smile. ‘My aunt wants to talk to you before we go.’
His heart gave a quick jump. ‘Right.’ Chloe still had that funny smile on her face. ‘Should I be worried?’
The smile reached her eyes and she bit into her lip, clearly trying not to laugh out loud. ‘Depends.’
He winced. ‘On what?’
‘How much you like dressing up.’
Before he could quiz her further, Faith walked out of her office and smiled at him. Hers was less secretive, more … cunning? His pulse began to pick up pace as he went from mildly curious to slightly panicked.
‘Adam.’ She reached for his hand and tugged him towards her office.
As the office door closed behind him, a dart of hope pushed away at the anxiety. Perhaps he’d been wrong about the cunning. Perhaps her smile said let’s have a sneaky lunchtime make-out session? Something he definitely wasn’t averse to. On a rush of desire he lifted her onto the desk, easing her legs apart so he could wedge his thighs between them. Then he kissed her; deeply, heatedly. Thoroughly.
Her cheeks were flushed when he drew back. ‘Wow. I’ll have to haul you into my office more often.’
‘Works for me.’ He started to move towards her again, his hand snaking under her blouse, when she drew back.
‘Umm, I’m not sure what you thought I brought you in here for, but I’ve a feeling you’re going to be mightily disappointed.’
She no longer looked cunning, or teasing. She looked awkward and uncomfortable, which had the same effect on his libido as a bucket of cold water. ‘Not office sex then.’
She laughed but it held none of the richness he was used to. It sounded … hell, he’d go as far as to say nervous. ‘Can we take a rain-check on that?’
Her answer relaxed him slightly. If office sex was still on the table sometime in the future, whatever she had to say to him couldn’t be that bad. ‘Sure.’ He perched on the desk next to her. ‘I’m all ears.’
His worry cranked up a notch again as he watched her fiddle with her hands. The Faith he knew was gloriously, sexily, confident, but this Faith was on edge. He placed a hand over hers, stopping her fidgety movements. ‘Talk to me.’
She avoided his gaze, which further troubled him. ‘The guests coming tomorrow have two kids, a boy of five and a girl of four. They’ve been asking for weeks to see Father Christmas but the parents both work and they’ve been too busy to take them. The mother asked if there was a Father Christmas round here but I checked and the only decent one I could find was in Penrith and she said that was too far, which is reasonable considering—’
‘You’re rambling,’ he cut in, concerned. ‘You don’t ramble. Cut to the chase.’
‘Would you dress up as Father Christmas for the kids?’
Dread sliced through him and he jumped to his feet, distancing himself. He’d thought she was going to talk to him about her mother’s invite for Christmas lunch. Not dressing up as flaming Santa. ‘No,’ he said bluntly, the familiar panic rising inside him. There were three hundred and sixty-five days in a year. Why was so much emphasis put on ruddy Christmas Day? It was spoken of for months before, and often in irreverent tones, as if it was something special. A day when great things happened.
It was lies, the lot of it. Shit happened at Christmas, just like it did every other day of the year.
She looked like he’d slapped her. ‘I know you have a hang-up about the day,’ she said quietly. ‘I was hoping you could put that aside to help me out. Unreasonable of me, I know, because you’ve already gone out of your way for me on numerous occasions.’ She paused to take a breath. ‘If you can’t do it for me, perhaps you could do it for these kids?’
‘Why me?’ He felt as frantic as he sounded. ‘There must be other men you know who could do this. Your father, for one.’
‘I thought of Dad first, but when I went to pick up the costume they only had one in extra large. It would drown him.’
‘What about the guys in the restaurant? Other people in the village?’ He was going to clutch at every damn straw he could think of. ‘Maybe the kids’ father could do it.’
She took a step towards him and rested a hand on his cheek. ‘Don’t worry. Forget I asked. I’ll think of something.’
The sympathy in her eyes, the sad but understanding smile – he felt like a total bastard. With a sigh he perched back on the desk, rubbing a hand across his face. ‘I’m sorry.’ How inadequate were those two words?
‘I should be the one apologising. I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘Of course you should.’ He was spending every evening, every night with this woman and he couldn’t do her a simple favour? And it wasn’t even for her. It was for a couple of kids she didn’t even know, but wanted to please. ‘I’ll do it,’ he found himself saying.
Her eyes widened with shock. ‘Seriously?’
His heart lurched and he curled his fingers round the edge of the desk while he took a few deep breaths, annoyed at his overreaction. Christmas might not be magical, but he had to stop making it into something evil. ‘Put on a red suit and say ho ho ho? How hard can it be?’
Faith could see the tension in his face, the way his hands clutched at the desk, and felt terrible. He hated Christmas. Of course putting on a Santa suit, pretending to be Mr Christmas himself, was going to be hard for him. Yet he was going to do it anyway. For her.
Feeling equal parts guilty and touched she reached for one of his hands, unfurling the rigid fingers and clasping it in hers. ‘Please only do it if you’re sure. I won’t hold a grudge if you say no.’
He let out a frustrated huff. ‘I’m sure.’
She sensed making a big deal out of it was only going to make things worse so she kissed him softly on the lips instead, hoping he could feel her gratitude. ‘Why don’t you come over to my place later and try the suit on?’ She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. ‘If you behave, I might even sit on your lap.’
Some of the tension left his face. ‘That’s an offer I don’t get every day.’ His eyes dipped to the floor and he drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly before looking back at her. ‘Thank you.’
‘For?’
‘Not asking me what happened at Christmas.’
She was still holding his hand and she lifted it to her lips, kissing his knuckles in the same way he’d once kissed hers. ‘I can’t say I’m not interested, but I figure you’ll tell me if you want to. Otherwise it’s none of my business.’
‘I want it to be your business.’ He spoke the words so quietly she almost didn’t hear them. ‘It’s just …’ He shook his head, turning away from her. ‘I’ve enjoyed putting it behind me. Enjoyed rediscovering the man I think I was before …’ He trailed off, inhaled a shaky breath. When his eyes met hers again they were unbearably sad, the gentle plea in them almost undoing her. ‘I’d rather we kept it that way, if it’s okay with you?’
Because he was perched on the desk and she was standing, it made it easy for her to put her arms around his neck. To kiss him fully. ‘Whatever you want,’ she whispered. ‘But know that if you do ever want to tell me what happened, it won’t change how I think of you.’
His eyes slammed shut and his big body stilled. As she moved to hug him again she heard him mutter under his breath, ‘I’m very much afraid that won’t be the case.’
Chapter Sixteen
Two days before Christmas
Chloe had a small bounce in her step as she walked back over to the reception desk after her lunchtime work-out session. Faith smiled affectionately at her.
‘You look like you’re in a good mood.’
Chloe frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
Okay, so probably best not to point out to her that she was looking happier than she had when she’d started a week ago.
A week. That’s all the time you’ve known Adam. When she thought of how little she knew him, how tightly he gripped to the secrets that haunted him, a week seemed about right. When she thought of how much her heart knew him, how important he’d become to her, a week seemed ridiculously short.
Chloe was still staring at her. ‘Did you have a good work-out?’ Faith asked, changing the subject.
‘It was okay.’ Chloe moved round to the other side of the reception desk and dumped her bag in its usual place by the stool.
‘Are you out lifting Adam yet?’
Finally, she smiled. More than that, she started to giggle. ‘As if. His arms are massive. He’s like Thor.’ When Faith looked at her nonplussed, she rolled her eyes. ‘You know, Chris Hemsworth.’
‘Umm, yes he is.’
Chloe’s smile turned into a smirk. ‘When did you see his arms?’
Jeez, please don’t let her blush again. ‘I can see enough through his shirt sleeves.’
Chloe burst into laughter. ‘You’re so sleeping with him.’ As Faith made a hasty scan of the foyer, Chloe laughed even harder. ‘Why are you being all secretive and stuff? I’d be well happy to have a boyfriend like him.’
‘He’s not … we’re not.’ She sighed. ‘He goes home in a few days.’
Chloe’s face lost its laughter. ‘Yeah, I know. I guess that sucks for you.’ She lifted her shoulders. ‘Sucks for me, too. He said he’s gonna write all the routines down for me so I don’t forget them.’
A wave of sadness washed through Faith. There was no need for her to write anything down – she knew she wouldn’t forget a single moment from her time with Adam. An image from last night burst into her mind. Who’d have thought sitting on Santa’s lap could have led to all that?
‘When do these new people arrive?’
Chloe’s question cut through her smutty thoughts. ‘They said around two. I’ve freshened their rooms and stocked the minibar. Just a question of keeping an eye out for them now.’
Chloe glanced at the computer. ‘Mr and Mrs Leighton, plus two kids.’
‘Sally and Robert.’
‘They’re the ones Adam’s dressing up for?’
‘Yes.’ Behind her back, Faith crossed her fingers. Last night he’d been up for it. This morning, when she’d gone back to say hello to the dogs, the Santa suit was still thrown over the sofa where they’d left it last night. Had Adam forgotten to take it back to his room, or deliberately left it there?
She’d popped it back in his room this morning after he’d gone to the gym, attaching a note to it. Please put me on when Faith calls you.
By three o’clock, the Leightons were settled in their room – actually two rooms with an interconnecting door allowing the kids and parents to have their own space but still be together.
‘It’s perfect,’ Ivy Leighton told her as she popped back to the reception desk. ‘Such a lovely space.’ Her eyes flickered towards the tree in the hallway. ‘And what a magnificent tree. The kids can’t stop talking about how it’s the biggest one they’ve ever seen.’
Faith felt a flush of pride, and a smidgen of smug amusement. ‘I’m glad they like the tree. It hasn’t been to everyone’s taste.’
Her guest looked at her in amazement. ‘Why ever not? It’s everything that’s fabulous about Christmas. Joyful, beautiful, full of promise. And it smells exactly like you want Christmas to smell; pine and cinnamon with a hint of ginger.’
Delighted with her guest, Faith grinned. ‘I hung cinnamon sticks and gingerbread men on the tree. You’re the first to notice.’
‘That’s probably because I’m like a big kid at this time of year. I love everything about it. We usually spend it at home so I can go mad on the decorations, but my dad had an operation a few weeks ago so can’t travel. The family are all coming to him, instead.’
‘So you definitely don’t need the restaurant open on Christmas Day?’ Faith held her breath. She’d checked at the time of the booking, followed up with an email, but guests couldn’t always be relied on not to change their minds.
‘Oh no, we’ll be eating at my parents.’ Relief washed through Faith as Ivy continued to talk. ‘My brother’s wife has offered to make it and she’s such a good cook. And what with that, and your amazing tree, I don’t think I’ll miss not being at home this Christmas. My only worry is I haven’t had time to take the kids to see Father Christmas.’
‘Don’t worry. He’s going to come to you.’ Faith gave Ivy a confident smile, but behind her back she kept her fingers firmly crossed. ‘I told our Santa I’d call him when you were settled. I was going to put an armchair in the hall so he could sit by the fireplace, hidden by the tree until Sally and Robert pop their heads round.’
Ivy clapped her hands together. ‘Perfect. We’re ready whenever you are. Just let me know when to unleash the little terrors.’
When she’d gone, Faith turned to Chloe, who was putting the finishing touches to the information packs she’d been working on. ‘They’re looking really good, Chloe. You’ve done a great job with them.’ Chloe lifted her shoulders in that I-don’t-care shrug of hers, but there was a definite blush to her cheeks. ‘Umm, did Adam mention anything to you about dressing up as Father Christmas today?’
‘No, why? Worried he’s gonna back out?’
‘Of course not.’ Liar. ‘I’ll just go and knock on his door.’
But when she tapped, and then thumped, on the door of his room, there was no reply.
Adam eased himself out of the under-stairs cupboard and shook his head. ‘Sorry mate. I can’t see anything obvious, and obvious is the limit of my electrics expertise.’
Giles, the elderly sheep farmer who lived opposite The Old Mill, gave him a wry smile. ‘That’ll be one step up from mine. At least now when the electrician comes I won’t look like a prat. Give me a sick sheep and I’ll tell thee what’s wrong. Electrics go off and I’m up shit creek without a paddle.’
Adam glanced at his watch and grimaced. ‘I’d better be getting back. Faith’s going to be wondering where I am.’
‘Got her guests on a tight lead, has she?’
Adam smiled, hoping it would do in place of a reply. He wasn’t about to divulge his sleeping arrangements with a guy he’d only met an hour ago. They’d met on the way back from his walk. Despite working out this morning, and the training session with Chloe, Adam had felt restless sitting in his room. Sitting led to thinking. Today he was dressing up as Santa, tomorrow it was Christmas Eve … nope, thinking was off-limits. To empty his mind he’d set off for a brisk three-mile walk, ending with a trip to the corner shop to buy more toothpaste. There he’d met Giles, who’d been buying candles because his electricity had gone off. Adam had offered to go back and see if he could fix it.
A few months ago, he wouldn’t have offered. He’d have kept his head down, not wanting to talk. The friendly nature of the place was getting to him. Or maybe what he’d said to Faith about rediscovering himself wasn’t just a hopeful whimsy. If he could manage to push past the last three years, learn to move on, perhaps he could start to live again.
Then again, if he didn’t get back to the hotel fast, Faith was likely to kill him before he had the chance.
Bidding Giles a hasty goodbye, Adam dashed over the road and across the gravel car park. As he pushed open the door he looked over to the reception desk where Faith was talking to her father in an agitated manner. He reckoned he knew what that was about.
He cleared his throat. ‘I’m here.’
Her gaze flew up to his, relief flooding through it. ‘Thank God.’ Then her expression tightened and she frowned. ‘Are you still happy to do this?’
‘Dress up? Can’t wait.’
<
br /> She smiled, rolling her eyes. ‘Okay, let me rephrase. Are you still prepared to do this? Because Dad said he will, if you’ve changed your mind.’
Her father slid him the type of look that made no words necessary. He might have muscle mass and age on his side, but he had no doubt Faith’s father could make his life hell if he chose to. ‘I’ve not changed my mind.’
Her father smirked, victory shining in his eyes. ‘I’ll leave you to it then.’
As she watched her father walk away, Faith sighed. ‘He kind of made you say yes, didn’t he?’
And now his masculinity was affronted. ‘You think I’m scared of a pensioner?’
‘Sneaky pensioner,’ she corrected. ‘We haven’t got time for this conversation though. We need to get you into the Santa suit pronto.’
‘I prefer it when you’re getting me out of my clothes,’ he murmured, lowering his voice, his pulse quickening when she shot him a heated look.
‘Me too.’ She rose onto her tiptoes and gave him a sedate kiss. ‘But right now I need you to drop the sexy and get into character.’
He cupped the back of her head, deepening the kiss before huffing and pulling back. ‘I left the suit in your room.’
‘I put it back in yours.’
‘Worried I’d left it on purpose?’ Her eyes refused to meet his and he scowled, only partly in jest. ‘When I say I’ll do something, I do it. I’m a man of my word.’
‘Even when the thought of doing it worries you so much you’ve kept yourself deliberately busy all day?’
Wow. He shook his head, amazed at how well she seemed to know him already. ‘You’re scary, you know that? Though I should point out I’m not worried, just anxious not to let them down.’
Her eyes softened and she gave him a smile that brimmed with confidence, with belief. ‘You won’t.’
As he sat on the big red armchair Faith had asked him to move next to the fire, Adam feared her belief in him was misplaced. He might look the part – black boots, red velvet suit with a heavy black belt, a false white beard that rubbed against his own and a red hat that kept sliding into his eyes. But what the hell did he know about the spirit of Christmas? How was he supposed to instill magic into a day he hated?
A Little Christmas Faith (Choc Lit) Page 13