The Christmas Tree Inn, page 1
About The Christmas Tree Inn
Avoiding a holiday breakup seemed like the right thing to do. But then he met Molly.
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Molly Foster’s dreams of going away to college were sidelined when her father died and she stayed home to help her mother run the family inn. Four years later, she’s finished her degree online and is poised to pursue her old career dreams in the big city. But as a gentle snow falls on the Christmas Tree Inn, an intriguing guest arrives and prompts her to question everything she’s ever wanted.
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Before he even left college, Zach Moreton was well on his way to financial success, buying and renting college apartments. Now, seven years later, he’s made a name for himself in New York real estate. With his latest deal, he’s attained every goal he ever set, and he rewards himself with a ski weekend with his stylish girlfriend. But his ski weekend is about to take a sharp downhill turn.
Also By J.L. Jarvis
Pine Harbor Series
Allison’s Pine Harbor Summer
Evelyn’s Pine Harbor Autumn
Lydia’s Pine Harbor Christmas
* * *
Holiday House Novels
The Christmas Cabin
The Winter Lodge
The Lighthouse
The Christmas Castle
The Beach House
The Christmas Tree Inn
The Holiday Hideaway
* * *
Highland Passage Series
Highland Passage
Knight Errant
Lost Bride
* * *
Highland Soldiers Series
The Enemy
The Betrayal
The Return
The Wanderer
* * *
Highland Vow
* * *
American Hearts Romances
Secret Hearts
Runaway Hearts
Forbidden Hearts
* * *
For more information, visit jljarvis.com
The Christmas Tree Inn
A Holiday House Novel
J.L. Jarvis
THE CHRISTMAS TREE INN
A Holiday House Novel
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Copyright © 2019 J.L. Jarvis
All Rights Reserved
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.
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Published by Bookbinder Press
bookbinderpress.com
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ISBN 978-1-942767-22-0 (trade paperback)
ISBN 978-1-942767-19-0 (paperback)
ISBN 978-1-942767-18-3 (ebook)
One
“I need something sharper.” Molly searched the kitchen table, strewn with rubber stamps, pens, and paper scraps.
Dakota pointed at Molly’s glass. “Take it easy on those. You’re looking a little violent.”
Molly tossed her head back and laughed. “I know. Diet soda does that to me. Be right back.” While Dakota worked on her homemade Christmas cards, Molly went to the front desk of the inn to search for some scissors. The last time she’d seen them, they were there, so she crouched down and rummaged through shelves and drawers, determined to find them.
“Aha!” Molly leapt to her feet, wielding the scissors. “Oh!” She stared, wide-eyed.
Before her stood a tall, good-looking man in a suit so perfectly fitted that he appeared to have just stepped out of an ad in a men’s magazine. He looked almost too good to be real, except for the furrowed eyebrows. “If you’re going to attack me, the blade end might be more effective.”
Molly’s jaw dropped, and she lowered the scissors. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear you come in. I was just looking for these.”
His mouth quirked at the corner. “And you found them.”
Molly met his enthralling brown eyes with a squint. “Yes. Sorry.” She set the scissors down on a shelf beneath the counter. “So. Welcome to the Christmas Tree Inn. May I help you?” She gazed at his light-brown hair and marveled at how perfect it was—neat and trimmed, every strand in place. As the silence between them stretched out, the front door swung open.
In strode a willowy blond woman with the limbs of a gazelle minus the grace. She accessorized her designer apparel with a faint air of boredom that promised the effervescence of a fashion runway model. With a look of disdain, she glanced up from her phone. “Still checking in?”
Molly came to her senses and got back to work, scanning the reservations listed on the computer screen. “You must be Mr. Moreton? And…” She smiled. “Ms. Pomeroy?”
Ms. Pomeroy condescended to sigh, which Molly took as a confirmation.
Molly nodded and forced a cordial smile at the woman, who looked only slightly older than she was, perhaps in her midtwenties. For such a young woman, she had an impressive perception of her place in the world. Molly multitasked, checking them in while she tallied the days before they would check out. Sensing eyes on her, she turned to Mr. Zachary Moreton. His gaze rendered her slightly off-balance, but the unexpected warmth in his eyes drew her to him. His expression was probably not any kinder than anyone else’s, but it proved such a stark contrast to his girlfriend’s that Molly found it reassuring. She retrieved a room key from a drawer and handed it to him.
“How quaint,” Ms. Pomeroy said as she slowly inspected the room. It might have passed for a compliment if she hadn’t said it with such a weary look on her face. With no warning, Penelope Pomeroy turned and headed upstairs.
Molly rushed after her. “I’ll show you to your—” But the woman was already nearing the top. Molly glanced back at Mr. Moreton, who seemed in no rush to catch up.
“We’ll be fine.” With an apologetic smile, Zachary Moreton thanked her and headed upstairs.
Molly called after him. “It’s the second room on the left.”
“Thank you.”
She watched him for a moment longer than necessary then realized what she was doing. Admiring guests’ athletic physiques as they climbed flights of stairs to their rooms was utterly inappropriate. Still, the guy clearly worked out. Molly shook her head. Stop it. She walked to the reception area and found Dakota leaning on the kitchen door, arms folded.
“Who’s your friend?”
“Who, the new guest?” Molly found him attractive, but she couldn’t admit it. She tried to maintain an aura of professionalism. “He’s not really my type.” She thanked God she was not under oath.
“Oh, really?” Dakota wasn’t buying it. “What’s wrong with him? Name one flaw.”
Molly’s expression was the same one she made when encountering beets. “Too handsome. You can’t trust a guy who looks like he’s stepped out of a cuff link ad.”
Dakota folded her arms. “That’s a bit looks-ist of you.”
“Right. Because the impossibly gorgeous are such a poor, downtrodden lot.”
“What if he turned out to like you?” Dakota’s eyes twinkled.
Molly let out an exaggerated sigh. “I’d do my best to let him down easy.”
Dakota raised an eyebrow. “He could let me down easy, if you know what I mean.”
Molly turned Dakota around by the shoulders and nudged her toward the kitchen. “Leave the new guest alone.”
“Guest? You mean your new boyfriend.” Dakota practically sang it.
“And his girlfriend?” Molly sat down then realized she’d left the scissors at the front desk and went to retrieve them. When she returned moments later, Dakota was waiting, chin on hands.
“So, what’s his name? Where’s he from? When’s the wedding date?”
“Whose?”
“Yours. Or mine, if you don’t want him.” Dakota’s eyes glazed over. “June weddings are so pedestrian. And why wait? A small wedding in March…or April. In Paris. The bridesmaids could all wear berets.”
“And the groomsmen could all dress like mimes. You need to get out more.”
“Tell me about it.” Dakota glanced upward. “Your friend there would do for starters.”
“Too bad he’s taken.”
Dakota wrinkled her face. “That won’t last.”
Molly peered closer. Dakota was serious. “What are you talking about? You’ve barely seen her.”
Dakota confessed, “I saw enough. Your door there doesn’t quite close all the way. Maybe it’s a seasonal thing. The wood swells and then catches against my hand when I’m holding it open. You really ought to have Will take a look next time he’s over here pining away for your mom.”
“Shh!” Molly glared. “Don’t let her hear you.” A suspicious look came over Molly’s face. “Hey, don’t think you can distract me. You opened the door and spied on my guests.”
Dakota recoiled. “Spying is such a strong word! It was more of an unsanctioned domestic surveillance operation.”
Molly tried not to smile. It would only encourage her friend.
Dakota stared off into the distance. “I should name it.”
“Name what?”
“M
“That is so inappropriate. You are not going to spy on him.”
“Operation Carrera.”
“Marble?”
“Car. Porsche Carrera. Black. Very classy.”
“You looked at his car?” Molly was not enjoying the conversation nearly as much as Dakota seemed to be.
“I know. Cars aren’t really my thing, except that one. It’s so cute. So is he, by the way. If I have to be inappropriate with someone, he’ll do.”
“But you won’t.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.” Dakota fluffed her hair. “I just need a little fresher-upper at the spa.”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean you won’t have the chance to be inappropriate if I banish you from the inn for the duration of his stay.”
Dakota heaved a sigh. “Well, okay. I see where we’re going here. You saw him first. Finders keepers. Whatever.”
Molly’s eyes opened wide, but before she could protest, her friend laughed. “I knew he was yours from the start. You two had that magical eye contact thing going on.”
“Oh, right. You mean that nanosecond when he glanced at me out of obligatory politeness.”
“Magical eye contact has more of a ring to it, but okay.”
Molly cast a chastising look at Dakota then noticed the piece of blank folded card stock before her. “How many Christmas cards have you finished?”
With halfhearted enthusiasm, Dakota rubber-stamped a piece of card stock and lifted it up and showed Molly. “This one’s coming along. Pass the glitter glue?”
Molly silently worked on the card she was crafting. She had to agree that the new guest was handsome—strong facial planes, full lips, nice build.
“So what’s the deal with the girlfriend?”
Molly looked up to find Dakota smiling and nodding. “You were thinking about him. You had that high school study hall dreamy-eyed daze.”
Their eyes met, and Molly couldn’t help grinning. “Well, okay. I won’t deny that he’s got a certain appeal.” She came to her senses. “And a girlfriend. That’s it. End of story.”
“If you say so.”
Molly set down her rubber stamp. “Look, how long have you known me?”
“Since fifth grade.”
“Right. And what is the worst, most heartbreaking thing—” Molly stopped. The most heartbreaking thing was losing her father in her senior year. Nothing else came close to that. “What is the most heartbreaking romance-related thing that’s ever happened to me?”
Dakota nodded. “The big breakup with The Jerk.”
“Right. And why do we call him The Jerk?”
“Because he cheated on you. At a party you went to together.”
There was no amusement left in Molly’s eyes. “Correct. The world is full of jerks, but I don’t have to be with them.”
Dakota’s lip was almost at full pout. “A girl can dream, can’t she?”
“What for? Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not going to happen.”
Molly had put more thought into that high school breakup than she would ever admit. It had left an impression on her and a firm resolve to avoid men like him in the future. “If someone cheats to get into a relationship, they’ll cheat to get out of it, too. So I’m not going there.”
Dakota lifted a sheepish face toward Molly. “But we can still look at him, right? From afar?”
Molly opened her mouth but couldn’t find the words.
Dakota slumped. “I know. I need to get out more.”
Two
“Penelope, no!”
Zach put his hand over hers, which was gripping the doorknob. “A queen will be fine.”
Penelope met his gaze with despair in her eyes. “I haven’t slept in a queen-sized bed since I was a child.”
“Sometimes life is so hard.”
“Very funny.” She yanked open the door and marched downstairs.
Zach closed his eyes and took in a breath before going after her. The poor desk clerk had no idea what was coming her way. He entertained the far-flung fantasy of Penelope walking straight through the front door and driving home. But that would mean her taking his car and leaving him stranded. In retrospect, driving separate cars would have solved so many problems. But he’d made some bad choices, and he had to live with them.
Being with Penelope had been an error in judgment—one of several he made after his first big sale. The car was another, but unlike Penelope, cars weren’t unkind. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t planned. He’d realized early on that it wasn’t going to work out with Penelope, so he made up his mind to break up with her after their Halloween party. But then her emergency surgery happened, and he couldn’t dump her when she was down.
He shuddered as he recalled the evening.
Penelope had arrived home with the costumes from the dry cleaners. They were rentals, so she insisted on having them cleaned first. She told him to put on something plain—jeans and a T-shirt would be fine. Then with a wave toward a large bag on the bed, she told him to pull on his costume over his outfit.
While he changed clothes, Zach reminded himself that he just needed to make it through one last evening, then tomorrow he’d break the news to her. It was over between them. He would take all the blame as he made his excuses. Work consumed him right now, and he wasn’t in the right place in his life for a relationship.
Five minutes later, she emerged from the walk-in closet, looking gorgeous in a short and tight faux chain mail number complete with beguiling breastplate. While she twisted her hair into a knot, she said, “I just have to put on this short wig.”
“You look gorgeous, but who are you dressed as?”
She pinned her wig into place and struck a pose. “Silly! I’m Sexy Joan of Arc.”
Zach pulled a giant foam ear from the bag and held it up, puzzled.
“Hurry. Put it on. Our guests will arrive soon.” She leaned close to the mirror and touched up her makeup.
Zach stared at the giant foam ear. “But what is it?”
“An ear. Duh.”
“I can see that. But why?”
She had the same look she got with store clerks and waiters. “I’m Joan of Arc, and you’re hearsay. Get it? Hear? An ear?” She rolled her eyes and heaved a huge sigh. “Joan of Arc was burned at the stake for hearsay.”
Zach stared for a moment. “Heresy.”
“Right. Hearsay.” Penelope frowned disapprovingly.
In retrospect, Zach realized he should never have tried to explain the difference between hearsay and heresy to her. He should have just counted himself lucky she hadn’t made him dress up as Joan of Arc’s burning stake—a porterhouse, no doubt.
But they argued, and she started to whine that he’d given her a stomachache. Two hours later, burning with fever, she was in the midst of replenishing the hors d’oeuvres when she passed out. The resulting cloud of chip dust and pico de gallo had barely settled before paramedics arrived and whisked her away to the hospital. She was rushed into emergency surgery for a ruptured appendix. By the time she recovered, Thanksgiving was upon them. Not even Penelope deserved to be dumped during the holidays, so Zach had made a tough choice. Rather than ruin Penelope’s holiday season, he would spare her feelings and ring in the new year before breaking up with her.
So here he was on the vacation Penelope had surprised him with. The even bigger surprise was that he was paying for a vacation he didn’t want to take. In the holiday spirit, he had gone along with it. Sparing her feelings was the right thing to do, but now he was miserable.
