Chapter Six
“Bingo!” Norma shouted, jumping to her feet. “Oh my goodness, I actually got bingo!”
Everyone clapped and laughed as Jenny made her way through the candlelit tables in the dining room to check the coffee beans on Norma’s bingo card.
Jenny dutifully called out the numbers to head bingo master, Stevie, then gave Norma a big hug when her bingo was called a certified win. Jenny handed Norma her prize, which was one of the handmade stuffed wreaths that hung in the front windows, slightly bigger versions of the ones that hung on the doors to their rooms, all of which had already been given out in previous games. Norma was the last guest to finally claim one of her own.
Noah clapped along with the rest of the group and winked at Stevie. He’d gotten the emergency generators going, which illuminated the hallways and the kitchen with low-level lighting and, most important, kept the furnace chugging along. The fireplaces on all three floors had all been stoked back up again to provide a warm, cozy glow, but despite Noah’s calming everyone and assuring them that everything would be fine, the latest complication had seemed to rev the guests up again. Gathering them all in the dining room to play candlelight bingo had been Stevie’s idea.
She’d run bingo games at her granny’s senior home, it turned out, and swore that nothing kept folks calm and focused better than bingo. She’d found a stash of old, yellowed bingo cards in one of the board-game boxes earlier that day, along with a felt bag full of bingo balls. They hadn’t had any chips or a bingo ball holder, but that hadn’t stopped Stevie. They’d used coffee beans for bingo chips, and she’d just reached in the bag and pulled out the small yellow balls, one at a time, using a little flashlight to read each one. The wreath prizes had been Noah’s idea. Stevie had told him he didn’t need to do that, and he’d worried they might think it was lame, but she’d been right in saying that it didn’t really matter what the prize was; it was all about winning. Each time a guest called out bingo, they were so excited you’d have thought he was handing out bags of money.
“Well, folks,” he called out, as they all slid their coffee beans back into their paper cups. “That’s the last wreath of the night. It’s after midnight, so happy Christmas Eve Day!”
Everyone cheered, and there were lots of exclamations about the late hour and how they’d had no idea. Noah certainly had—he was dead on his feet—but they’d all been having such a good time not a single guest, other than the newlyweds, had called it a night to head up to their rooms.
“They’re usually pretty good at getting the power back on, but the storm has probably slowed things down. I checked outside just a few minutes ago, and the snow does seem to have stopped. Even better, the wind has finally died down. They’re calling for sunny skies tomorrow, so the plows should get us dug out, and you all can go out and enjoy the beautiful winter wonderland, hopefully by lunchtime. Continental breakfast and coffee will be set out by seven thirty, and a hot breakfast will be served by nine.”
Just then the foyer door burst open, bringing in with it a swirl of snow and a very tall man. Everyone gasped, and Noah immediately moved forward.
The man pulled off a knit beanie, then turned to look back out the door. “Thank you, mates,” he called out, his voice deep, the accent Australian, which immediately had Noah grinning. The tall man closed the door and turned back to face the now standing group, just as Noah made his way around the last table. “G’day, boss! I’ve come bearing sharp knives and a thirst to get cooking. Merry Christmas!”
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Noah said, grabbing the man’s gloved hand and giving it a firm shake. “How in the world did you get out here?”
“Two snowplows and a truly crazy state trooper.” He grinned. “Must have Aussie blood in his tree somewhere.”
Noah turned to the assembled crowd. “This is Hudson Walker, your new chef.”
Everyone clapped enthusiastically, calling out welcomes and wishing him a merry Christmas.
“As you can see, power is down, but hopefully that will be rectified by morning. I’m keeping the generators on low grade until I get a report from the power company, but we can crank it up in the morning so you’ll have what you need to cook. That said, I’m afraid we’ve gone through most of the larder and my stock shipment obviously didn’t arrive as planned today. I don’t have high hopes for tomorrow either, and then Sunday is Christmas, so it’s likely to be trial by fire, but I’ll just be grateful for the extra pair of hands at this point.” Noah grinned. “Welcome to the Inn at Blue Hollow Falls, mate.”
“You leave it to me,” Hudson said, not even blinking at the litany of news. “I’ll have them eating out of my hands before they finish their morning joe.”
Noah chuckled, remembering again why he’d hired the guy, and not just because he was insanely talented. Hud was possibly the most positive spirit Noah had ever met, and the man could back it up with an amazing skill set in the kitchen. He was an avid white-water kayaker and hiker, so Hud had thought the inn position a dream job. Noah was hoping he still felt that way after the first weekend on the job. One thing was for certain: if anyone could charm his guests out of their worries, it was going to be this guy. “I’ll take you up on that,” Noah said. “Let me show you to your room.”
Noah caught Stevie’s eye as he shepherded his new chef toward the kitchen and winked. He saw she was helping the girls clean up the bingo cards and beans, and she made a motion that she’d work on herding the guests in the direction of their rooms.
“Wait for me,” he mouthed, and her eyes lit up as she nodded.
He’d never really considered what it would be like to run the inn alongside someone else. Carolyn had never positioned herself in that role, making that clear even before the renovations had been completed, so he’d never let himself even think that way. In the time since, well, this was his baby, his dream. He’d have made it work with Carolyn if she’d wanted to be with him—he didn’t need someone to share his dream. He just wanted someone who was willing to share his life.
And yet, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t watched Stevie that night, laughing with the guests, taking on the role of social director, and having a really good time with it, or at least she had appeared to be. He didn’t think she was doing any of this to impress him; she was too straightforward a person for that. If anything, she’d gone out of her way not to raise his expectations about the two of them. She was just doing what she said she always did—saw where help was needed and pitched in. He doubted she had any idea that if she’d really wanted him to stop falling for her, then her best bet would have been to simply lock herself away in her room. Not because she needed to worry about unwanted advances, but because the more he was around her, watching her simply be who she was, the more he was becoming convinced that she really was the one for him.
He ignored the little voice reminding him that this perfect-for-him woman lived and worked three hours away. Hudson was here now, which would help Noah enormously, and after the holidays were over, it would be the inn’s slowest season of the year, as winter worked its way toward spring. He would likely be tied down over the weekends, but midweek he could find his way to the city. She’d probably be working, but he was certain he could entertain himself during the days, and they’d have evenings together. If she was game, she could come down on the weekends whenever she wanted. He’d be working, but nothing like this weekend. They’d have time, and just having her there at the inn with him would be enough.
Listen to you, plotting this all out, he thought with a wry smirk. Like she’s agreed to ever see your sorry, overworked ass after this fiasco of a holiday is over. With his luck, she’d run home to the city and never look back. Except her best friend was here, with that big greenhouse of hers as an extra incentive. He smiled to himself. You’re officially pathetic, man.
Noah got Hud settled in his room, which was tucked in an alcove on the far side of the kitchen, then headed back toward the dining room, but never made it past the kitchen. Stevie was sitting up on one of the worktables, ankles crossed, swinging her feet. She smiled when he came in. “I don’t want to know how many health codes I’m breaking,” she told him. “I needed to get off my feet, and there are no chairs in here.”
“Plenty of chairs in the dining room,” he said, walking toward her.
“I’m hiding.”
“Ah,” he said, trying not to let his disappointment show. “So, we still have guests milling about?”
She nodded. “Just the Beattys and the girls. Your new chef really knows how to make an entrance,” she said with a grin. “Woke everybody right up.”
“Yeah, I thought that might be the case. If it’s any consolation, he’s even more of a showman in the kitchen. Breakfast will make the world a better place; I can guarantee it.”
“Has he seen the larder?” she asked skeptically.
Noah nodded. “The man is a magician. You wait and see.”
She tilted her head when Noah came to stand in front of her, planting his palms on the worktable on either side of her thighs. “Who are you trying to convince? Me, or—”
“My feet,” he said with a sigh. “I love my job, I do. But I’m not lying when I say it’s possible I’ve never so looked forward to seeing my bed as I am tonight.”
Even in the dim lighting, he saw the tiniest bit of twinkle go out in her eyes, which had the exact opposite effect on him. Had she come in here . . . was she planning on . . .
He grinned and leaned in. “Why, Miss Franklin, could it be you came in here with the intent to seduce your innkeeper?”
There was a flash of surprise, but it was quickly overtaken by a look of pure delight. “Whyever would you think that, Mr. Tyler?” she said, feigning a soft, Southern accent.
He moved in closer. “I firmly believe if you visualize your desires, you can will them into becoming reality.”
“I see,” she said, and lifted her hands from her knees to slide them around his neck.
At the first brush of her fingers on the bare skin of his neck, the fatigue he’d been battling since dinner eased away, and he felt a renewed surge of energy. Well, certain parts of him did, anyway, and that was good enough.
“And what,” she whispered, leaning closer until her lips brushed the rim of his ear, “were you visualizing, exactly?”
Running this inn with you by my side, he thought, and accepted the truth of it, no matter how much he’d tried to make himself believe otherwise. He didn’t just want someone to share parts of his life with him; he wanted someone willing to share all the parts of his life with him. Selfish, maybe, but he’d just had one of his toughest days yet as an innkeeper, and he could honestly say that having Stevie there had also made it one of his best days yet. Certainly the most memorable, and, he realized, all the memories would make him smile. And the day’s not over yet.
“I was picturing a long, very hot shower to ease the day out of my muscles, candlelit, of course, with the power being out and all.”
“Sensible,” she said, dropping a kiss on the side of his neck. “Though I commend you for facing your inevitable and quite understandable fear of fire so quickly and authoritatively.”
“Yes, well, I put on a brave face when the power went out.” He nudged her head up so she looked into his eyes. “I might need some assistance in that area, you know, now that I’m no longer putting on a brave face for my guests.” He tried a boyish, hopeful expression.
She grinned. “I don’t think Hudson Walker has anything on you in the showmanship department.”
He chuckled. “Yes, well, speaking of performance anxiety . . .”
She leaned in and nipped his chin, then slid to the edge of the table and surprised him by wrapping her legs around his hips. “Something tells me you’re going to need very little assistance with that.”
He smoothed his hands along her thighs, then tugged her hips closer to his, taking her resulting moan into his mouth with a long, deep kiss. “You might be right,” he said, his voice going all guttural now.
“Possibly,” she said, sounding breathless.
“Do I need to do anything else in the dining room tonight?” he murmured, as he kissed his way to her ear.
She squirmed against him when he nipped her earlobe, then suckled it. “The girls have things under control,” she gasped. “I say we let them fend for themselves.”
“Sound plan,” he said, then scooped her up off the table. “Hold on.”
“Try and stop me,” she said, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.
He grinned and pressed a kiss against her hair as he carried her through the door to a short hallway that led back to his personal quarters. “Why on earth would I ever do something as foolish as that?”