Page 31 of Healing Hearts at the Christmas Inn
"My face says it’s too early for conversations like this until I’ve had at least my third cup of coffee," Jack hedged.
Logan laughed and stood, brushing dust off his jeans. "Sure it does." He picked up a pencil and made a note on the doorframe. "So who were you jogging with this morning?"
Jack felt heat creep up his neck. "One of our guests. Holly Bennett."
"Ah." Logan's grin widened. "The one who checked in last night with her sister and granddaughter. The penthouse guests."
"That's the one."
"And?"
"And nothing." Jack set his coffee mug on the windowsill and moved to examine the doorframe Logan was measuring. "We happened to be on the beach at the same time. Duke found her first."
"Of course he did." Logan's tone was too knowing, too amused. "That dog has excellent taste."
Jack ignored him and studied the frame, running his fingers along the wood. It was original to the house, over a hundred and twenty-five years old, and starting to warp from decades of humidity. They'd need to reinforce it before they could hang the new door.
"I haven't seen that look on your face in a long time," Logan said quietly.
Jack frowned. "What look?"
"The one you had just now. When you said her name." Logan gave him a knowing grin before turning back to what he was doing.
Jack straightened, meeting his friend's eyes before he turned away.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jack said, but the words felt hollow even to him.
Logan was quiet for a moment, then set down his tape measure. "Jack, I've known you your entire life. I was there when you married Pamela. I was there when she left. I've watched you work yourself into the ground trying to save this place." Hepaused. "And I haven't seen you look at anyone the way you were looking at that woman on the beach this morning."
Jack opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. What was the point? Logan knew him too well.
"She's a guest," Jack said finally. "She's here for three weeks, and then she's gone. Back to Miami, back to her life."
"So?"
"So I can't afford distractions right now. We have sixty days to save this place, remember? Sixty days before the developers swoop in and turn my family's legacy into condos or a chain hotel."
Logan crossed his arms. "And you think getting to know someone, having coffee, maybe enjoying yourself for the first time in years, is going to somehow make that worse?"
"I think," Jack said carefully, "that I need to focus."
"You've been focused for ten years, Jack. Since the business collapsed. Maybe it's time to let yourself feel something other than responsibility and worry."
Jack picked up his coffee and took a long drink, even though it had gone lukewarm. He didn't want to have this conversation. Didn't want to examine the flutter in his chest when Holly had smiled at him, or the way his pulse had spiked when she'd agreed to run with him again tomorrow.
"She's been through a lot," Jack said instead. "Her son is deployed. Her granddaughter just lost three more years without seeing her father. And she mentioned an ex-husband." He shook his head. "She doesn't need me adding complications to her life."
Logan studied him for a long moment. "Or maybe," he said gently, "you're both exactly what the other one needs right now."
Before Jack could respond, footsteps echoed in the hallway. Jane appeared in the doorway, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, paint smudges on her hands.
"Dad, have you seen some boxes labeled 'Christmas Ballroom Decorations' with the year Grandpa died written on them?" She spotted Logan and grinned. "Morning, Uncle Logan."
Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Jane's smile turned smug as she turned back to her father, clearly satisfied with getting under Logan's skin.
"The boxes?" Jack repeated, setting down his tape measure. "I saw them in the house attic a few weeks ago when I was moving things around to repair that beam. Had to shift everything over to the inn's attic. Third section, near the east wall. Why do you need them?"
