Page 29 of Healing Hearts at the Christmas Inn
Jack's smile could have rivaled the sunrise. "Good. I'll try to keep Duke from ambushing you this time."
"Don't." Holly reached down to scratch the dog's head. "I liked meeting him."
Their eyes met again, and Holly felt that flutter intensify. Jack opened his mouth like he wanted to say something more, then seemed to think better of it.
"I'll see you later this afternoon, Holly Bennett."
"Yes, until then, Jack Christmas." Holly grinned.
He turned and jogged around the boardwalk and toward the side of the inn, Duke bounding alongside him. Holly watched them go, her hand pressed to her chest where her heart was doing acrobatics. As Jack disappeared around the corner, she tilted her head and noticed a house perched there, joined to the inn with what must be a small hallway connecting the two structures.
What am I doing?
She shook her head and climbed the boardwalk steps, her legs pleasantly tired from the run. But as she reached the deck and turned to look back at the beach, she paused, breathing in the sea air and the early morning. When Holly turned back, she stopped to take in the scene before her. The inn stood magnificent in the morning light.
Holly's gaze traveled over the building with the practiced eye of someone who'd spent twenty years restoring antiques and old structures. During the night, in the glow of the Christmas lights, the inn had looked magical. Perfect. But now, in the honest light of day, she could see what lay beneath the magic.
The paint was peeling in places, the damage carefully disguised with strategic placement of garlands and wreaths. The trim around some of the windows was weathered, the wood starting to rot. The balcony railings were sturdy but worn, and she could see where repairs had been made with mismatched materials. Even the boardwalk beneath her feet had loose planks that someone had tried to secure with newer nails.
Everything was clean and polished, the shabbiness artfully concealed. But Holly's trained eye saw through the illusions.
The inn needed help. Serious help. The kind that requires time, money, and expertise.
But even recognizing all of that, even seeing the cracks in the facade, Holly couldn't help but marvel at how beautiful it was. The bones of the building were magnificent. Historic. Well-crafted with the kind of attention to detail you didn't find anymore. Whoever had built this place had loved it, had poured their heart into every beam and board.
And someone still loved it. That much was obvious in the careful patches, the strategic decorating, the way every surface gleamed despite the wear.
Holly's fingers itched with the familiar urge to restore, to bring back the glory she could see hiding beneath the years. She imagined what the inn could be with proper care. The trim repainted in crisp white, the railings sanded and refinished, the windows resealed and gleaming. She thought about the antiques she'd glimpsed inside, the paintings and furniture that had clearly been lovingly maintained but could use professional attention.
This place could be spectacular again. It wanted to be. She could feel it, just as she always did, the potential in broken things.
The front door opened, and Holly turned to see an elderly couple emerging onto the deck. They smiled at her, wished her good morning, and wandered down toward the beach hand in hand.
Holly watched them go, then looked back at the inn one more time.
The sun had fully risen now, bathing everything in golden light. The Christmas decorations sparkled even without being lit. The palm trees swayed in the gentle breeze. And somewhere inside,Trinity was probably just waking up, eager to start exploring their temporary home.
Holly pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart still racing from more than just the run. She thought about Jack's words.This trip was meant to be. The inn bringing people exactly when they needed to be here.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe she was exactly where she needed to be. Not just to give Trinity a magical Christmas. Not just to escape the hollow ache that had followed her from Miami.
But to find something she hadn't even known she was looking for.
Holly took one last look at where Jack and Duke had retreated before she turned and headed inside, her mind already spinning with possibilities she had no business entertaining.
The inn glowed around her, beautiful despite its wear, waiting for someone to see its potential.
And Holly, for the first time in six months, felt a spark of something that might have been hope.
10
JACK
Jack's lungs were burning by the time he rounded the corner of the inn with Duke bounding beside him. Not from the run itself, but from the effort it had taken to walk away from Holly Bennett.
He slowed to a walk as they approached the side entrance to the family house, his hand reaching automatically for the door handle. Duke pushed past him the moment the door opened, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor as he made a beeline for his water bowl in the kitchen.
