Chapter 8
Noelle
Ihaven’t seen him since leaving him sitting at the coffee shop alone.
I guess he meant what he said about not bothering me while he’s in town.
Another two weeks roll by in what feels like nothing more than a blink of an eye meaning my window to matrimony is getting smaller and smaller.
I figured out the chef issue in a snap and managed to make amends with the man who shattered my heart into a million pieces well enough.
Now my focus could be back on finding a husband in time for Christmas.
How in the world did I fall into some insane Hallmark movie where the girl is given an ultimatum that seems impossible until it isn’t?
But that’s what my current situation is.
Impossible.
Because I’ve been perpetually single for the last five years and there’s literally not a single soul left to date in Evergreen that isn’t either already married or someone I’d sooner allow myself to get hit by a bus than marry.
But I have to do something or else Grams is going to sell the inn and I can’t let that happen.
This place is my home. It’s where I feel the most like myself and has been in the family now for more than a hundred years.
I can’t be the Holly who is the reason the Holly House Inn ceases to exist.
I won’t be the reason Holly House ceases to exist.
This is simply another challenge life is throwing at you, I remind myself. You’ve figured everything else out that it’s thrown at you. This is no different.
You can do this.
You can do this.
“I can do this,” I whisper to myself.
“Where do you want these?” the voice of one of our innkeepers asks. He’s carrying a bin labeled ‘CHRISTMAS DECOR’ in his hands and looking in on me from the front door.
“You can put it in the storage room in the kitchen for now. Thanks, Ron,” I direct with a smile. As he goes, I watch him walk down the hallway a little longer than normal.
“Uhh, why are you checking Ron the innkeeper out?” Belle sneers, coming up beside me from the kitchen.
“I wasn’t,” I protest, scrunching up my nose at the thought of looking at him like that. Ron is nice but he’s almost fifty and has been working at the inn since I was a teenager. Checking him out would be like checking out my own dad.
“You were definitely checking him out,” she says, pushing me out of the way of the computer to check this week’s schedule.
On top of being a part-time manager when I’m not around, Belle is also our events coordinator.
I’ve lost count of the number of compliments she’s gotten from both our staff and guests on some of the events and parties she’s hosted in the past.
“Who are we checking out?” It’s Eve who asks this time, coming from around the corner and plopping down on the stool we keep behind the front desk. Her chef’s coat has a massive red splotch on her right shoulder that I can’t help but wonder how it got there.
“We aren’t checking anyone out,” I say with a huff. “Why aren’t you in the kitchen?”
“My dough needs time to rest and my marinara sauce is currently being scraped off the ceiling. I figured I’d come out here and see what you two were doing in the meantime.” She pulls her hair out of her signature buns and redoes it.
“Why is there marinara sauce on the ceiling?” I question, pinching my eyebrows together.
“Who was our girl checking out?” Eve asks, ignoring my question.
“Ron,” Belle says flatly.
“Eww! Ron is old, why are you checking Ron out?” she gasps.
“I wasn’t, I was—”
“You were definitely watching him walk down the hallway. Leering, almost.”
“Gross, Noey. I had no idea you were into older men.”
I bring my hands and massage my temple. “Oh my god, I work with three year olds.”
“I know you’re desperate to save the inn, but you don’t have to be that desperate,” Eve laments, giving me the side eye.
“If only there was some sort of ‘rent–a–husband’ program,” Belle comments lightly. She laughs at her own idea. “Rent–a–husband, that’s funny.”
“It would save me a whole lot of headache, that’s for sure.” I pull my lips into a tight line and wish that such a thing actually existed. The more I think about it, the more I wish it really did exist.
Grams only said that I needed to have a husband to get the inn.
She didn’t say anything about needing to keep a husband.
If only there was a way for me to find someone who would marry me long enough to become the legal owner of Holly House.
Then I could change whatever family will there is to say that a woman doesn’t need to be married in order to own the inn and divorce whoever it is that’s my temporary husband.
“You want the rest of the Christmas stuff brought inside, Noelle?” I look up from my thoughts to see Ron has manifested once more in the hallway and is looking at me.
“Yes, please. Thank you, Ron.”
“You got it, sweetie,” he replies with a friendly wave.
“Aww, he’s even calling you ‘sweetie,’” Belle teases, bumping my shoulder.
“Oh, stop, he’s like my dad. He’s just being nice,” I groan, pushing her away.
“I mean, he is old. You wouldn’t be married to him long if you did let him put a ring on it,” Eve adds onto the joke.
She and Belle snicker at my expense. Rolling my eyes, I lean around the doorway to snag my bag and jacket from the office and look at both of them.
“I’m going home for the day. Belle, you’re in charge, and Eve,” I say, pinning my eyes on her, “get back in the kitchen and help clean up whatever mess you made. When I come in tomorrow I better not see a single spot of sauce anywhere on the walls or else I’m kicking you out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She salutes me with her hand on her forehead. “I’ll be home once dinner is cleaned up.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you both later.”
Wrapping my coat tighter around my chest, I step out of the front door and head for home. As I walk through town, I can’t help but shake the idea of finding a ‘rent–a–husband’ and how much I wish such a thing existed.
As promised, Eve strolled into the apartment around eight o’clock once dinner was cleaned up and the staff had been given their evening duties.
We hung out for a little bit before retiring to our own separate spaces for the night.
Being more like a ninety-year-old woman than a hardly thirty-year-old, I have been wrapped up in bed for the last two hours and enjoying the small whimsy that comes from lying in my room under my heated blanket with nothing but my twinkle lights on.
I’m doing what I’ve been doing every night for the last several weeks.
Trying to figure out what to do in order to save the inn.
Even hours later, Belle’s idea of a temporary husband is still fresh in my mind.
Sure, I want a real husband some day but since I don’t think my real husband is going to come walking through the door anytime soon, I need to figure out a temporary fix.
And quick because every time a new day turns over is one day less that I have to figure this out.
I look over at the vintage analog clock I have on top of my dresser and make note of the time. Ten thirty. I’m usually asleep by now. I would be if this stupid family will wasn’t haunting my dreams and ruining my life.
Blinking a few times, I try to focus on something else.
Something else that will settle my heart and help me fall asleep.
Without meaning to, a pair of green eyes pop into my mind as well as two perfectly formed dimples.
I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear him apologize until he did.
It doesn’t make up for how he treated me but it still healed a part of me I didn’t realize is still bruised and broken.
‘I hope you know that I’m here if you need anything. I mean that. Anything you need, I’m here for you.’
I sit up straight in bed as his words hit me like a freight train along with a completely insane, totally impractical idea. A hail mary of all hail marys but one I think I’m desperate enough to attempt if it means saving the inn.
Without thinking about it too much, I jump up from bed and head for my closet.
I find my boots and pull them onto my feet, stuffing the pajama pants I have on into them and pulling on a heavier coat since it’s dark outside and a good fifteen degrees cooler than it is during the day.
My body moves on autopilot as I grab my keys then my wallet, and quietly step out of my apartment so I don’t wake up my roommate.
Before long, I’m pulling up to the Wyte’s Christmas tree farm and stomping up the steps of cabin 2B.
It doesn’t take him long to open the door after I knock.
When he sees it’s me, his eyebrows reach for his hairline.
“Noelle? What are you doing here? It’s past ten. Aren’t you usually asleep by now?”
“Can I come in?” I ask, but I don’t wait for him to answer before stepping inside to escape the winter chill that’s creeping into town.
“Sure, yeah.” He closes the door behind me and follows me with his eyes as I make my way inside.
Standing in front of the wood-burning fireplace, I squeeze my lips around my teeth and wonder if I’ve made a stupid mistake.
“Noelle,” he says apprehensively. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
I shake my head and force myself to look at him. “No, everything isn’t okay.”
He takes a step closer with concern written all over his face. I wish he wouldn’t look at me like that. I hate the way my heart flips when he looks at me like that—like he actually still cares about me at all.
“What is it? How can I help?”
It’s now or never.
I take a steadying breath and pull my shoulders back before saying possibly the most insane thing I’ve ever said.
“I need you to marry me.”