Page 28 of Healing Hearts at the Christmas Inn
They'd slowed to a walk without Holly realizing it. Duke had stopped to investigate a piece of driftwood, and they stood there on the sand, the sunrise painting everything in shades of rose and amber.
"Is that why you came here?" Jack asked gently. "To give her a happy Christmas even without her dad?"
Holly nodded. "I found a brochure for the inn in my..." She hesitated, then pushed forward. "In my ex-husband's study. I was cleaning it out after our separation, and there it was. The Christmas Inn. It looked magical in the photos. Like exactly the kind of place where someone could forget their troubles for a while."
Jack was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was low and certain. "Then it's meant to be. You being here."
The words hit Holly with unexpected force. She turned to look at him fully and found that he was already watching her. His expression was open, earnest, with something in his eyes that made her breath catch.
"Meant to be," she repeated softly.
"Yes." Jack held her gaze. "Sometimes I think the inn has a way of bringing people exactly when they need to be here. My mother believes it. She says the place has a soul."
Holly felt something flutter in her stomach, a warm, electric sensation. "Do you believe it?"
Jack's mouth curved into a small smile. "I'm starting to."
The moment stretched between them, filled with possibility and the sound of waves. Duke barked, breaking the spell, and they both laughed.
"We should probably head back," Jack said, but he didn't move.
"Probably," Holly agreed, but she didn't either.
Finally, Jack cleared his throat and turned back the way they'd come. "Come on. Let's head back to the inn."
They started jogging again, this time at a slower pace, and the conversation flowed more easily. Jack's expression had softened, thoughtful in a way that made Holly think he was still processing what she'd shared about Trinity.
"Speaking of things to see, the Nights of Lights is one of Jane's favorite traditions, or at least it used to be," Jack said after a moment. "When she was little, we'd drive through the historic district every night in December. She'd press her face against the window, counting all the different displays." His voice held the warmth of memory mixed with something sadder. "She hasn't wanted to go the past couple of years, but maybe this year will be different."
"We definitely want to see it," Holly said, her heart squeezing at the image of a younger, happier Jane, and wondered what had happened that put that haunting sadness in the beautiful young woman’s eyes. But it wasn’t her place to ask or pry. "Trinity talked about nothing else after we drove through last night."
Jack's face brightened. "There's so much happening this season. The tree lighting ceremony downtown is this weekend. Then there's the parade of boats in the harbor next week, and the holiday market in the plaza runs every evening through Christmas Eve."
"There's so much to do," Holly said, feeling a little overwhelmed. "I don't even know where to start."
"I can help with that." Jack's voice was casual, but there was something hopeful beneath it. "If you want, I mean. Put together some suggestions. My family usually participates in a lot of the festivities. Maybe you, Trinity, and your sister could join us for some of them."
Holly's first instinct was to refuse, to maintain the boundaries between guest and host. But the thought of navigating everything alone, of trying to create magic for Trinity while carrying her own heartbreak, felt suddenly exhausting.
"I don't want to impose," she said carefully.
"You wouldn't be." Jack glanced at her, his expression genuine. "Trust me. My mother would love it. And Jane could use the company. She's been so isolated since..." He trailed off, and Holly heard the weight of unspoken grief in that silence. "Anyway, it would be nice. For all of us."
They were approaching the inn now, its white walls glowing in the morning sun. Holly could see the strings of lights that wouldsparkle come evening, the palm trees wrapped in their golden spirals, and the boardwalk leading up from the beach.
"Okay," she heard herself say. "Yes. That would be wonderful."
Jack's face lit up in a way that made Holly's heart skip a beat. "Great. I'll put something together. Maybe we can talk about it over coffee sometime this afternoon?"
"I'd like that." Holly couldn’t stop the lurch of her heart at the thought of having coffee with him, alone later.
They reached the bottom of the boardwalk steps, both slightly breathless. Duke flopped down in the sand, panting happily.
"So," Jack said, and there was something almost shy in his expression now. "How about the same time tomorrow? For the run, I mean. If you want to and don’t mind the company."
Holly knew she should say no. Maintain some distance and a sense of self-preservation. She was here to heal, to give Trinity a good Christmas, not to get tangled up with a handsome innkeeper who made her stomach flutter like a teenager.
But the word that came out was: "Yes. I'd like that."
