Page 62 of No Room in the Inn

But it’s pointless to pretend I don’t have feelings for him. I feel things for him I never even felt for Chauncey—there’s a depth in him that Chauncey didn’t have. And I think Nixon has feelings for me. Isn’t that worth at least exploring? Especially now that I’ve decided to transfer the inn to him?

So I slip my hand in his and smile.

Chapter 28

Nixon

Note to self: Do not kiss the girl you’re trying not to fall for.

I’ll say it again for the people in the back, or for the people who are just really dumb, like me:Do notkiss the girl you’re trying not to fall for.

Because then you might realize that it’s too late; you’re already falling.

Hard.

This is wrong. This is all wrong. I’m not supposed to have feelings for Willow. Or rather, I’m not supposed to haveromanticfeelings for her. She’s trying to sell the inn. She’s way too sassy for her own good.

And yes, normally sassy brunettes are my type. But notthissassy brunette.

Still, despite my worries and fears, I can’t help the smile that creeps over my face as Willow takes my hand. She was into that kiss, as much as she originally protested. I can’t be mad about that.

We thread through the people milling around Gerty’s living room, and though neither of us say it, I can tell we’re both heading for the front door. We slip out just as Gerty is calling two more names for seven minutes under the mistletoe, and we grin at each other. That woman is shameless.

We go to the car in silence, our hands intertwined. I turn on the radio as we drive, my mind whirling with things I want to say—and things I don’t. It’s not like I need to declare my feelings or something. We already kissed, and now we’re holding hands. I acted like a jealous caveman back at the party, which is embarrassing.

It’s just that when I thought she was going to kiss Max, something inside me snapped. I’ve been trying not to get too close to her, which is why I left the kitchen earlier. I didn’t want to have feelings for her or get attached to her. But when Gerty called Max’s name along with Willow’s, the first thought that popped into my head wasOver my dead body.

I can admit I acted a bit like a Neanderthal. I’ll have to apologize for that later.

I need to figure out exactly what I’m feeling, too. Examining my feelings really isn’t my thing; I prefer to sweep them all under the rug and not look at them. But if I’m going to offer her any part of me, I have to know how I feel about her.

Because am I in love with her? No. It’s too soon. I don’t know her well enough. ButcouldI fall in love with her? Absolutely, without a doubt. As much as she gets under my skin sometimes, I feel at peace around her. She’s witty and smart and resilient.

I don’t know what our future holds, but I do know where to start.

When we get back to the inn and go inside, I take a deep breath before turning to her. “Do you want to go out with me tomorrow night? On a date?”

She smiles. “Yeah,” she says. “I’d like that.”

A sense of relief steals through me, and I grin. “But you still don’t like me, right?”

Her eyes glimmer with amusement. “Not even a little.”

I nod. Before I can say anything else and ruin the moment, I give her a swift kiss on the cheek and say, “Goodnight.”

I fall asleep smiling.

***

When I wake up the next morning, I have a fully formed idea of where I want to take Willow on our date tonight. Despite her bad luck at Hallmark activities, we’re going to give ice skating a go.

Although knowing her, she’ll probably manage to faceplant on the ice somehow. So maybe ice skating isn’t such a good idea. I’ll ask her and see what she thinks.

I yawn as I pull a shirt over my head before ambling out to the kitchen. The inn is chilly this morning, and I’m tempted to stop by the thermostat and see if Willow has been messing with the temperature. But I leave it, because I’m starving.

When I get to the kitchen, I notice two mugs of hot chocolate on the table, and I smile. One mug is nearly empty, but the other one is still full, fresh and steaming.

I pick up the drink, taking a sip, noting with surprise that she’s added cinnamon. It’s something I always do, but I’ve never mentioned it to her. Has she been watching me closely enough to notice?

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