A Little Christmas Faith (Choc Lit) Read online

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Come on, you’re a perfectionist. You like everything just so. Your pencils lined up on your desk in the right order. Your cans neatly stacked in your cupboard with the labels facing forward. You’re meticulous. If the duvet on the bed isn’t turned down at precisely the right angle at night, you’ll have a dicky fit.’

  Adam raised an eyebrow. ‘I didn’t realise you were that interested in my bed.’

  ‘Trust me, I’m not. Though there are others who are, from all accounts.’

  ‘And whose accounts would those be, exactly?’ Adam asked with a shiver of unease. He was a private man. He didn’t go talking about his life to anyone. At least not willingly.

  ‘Anita.’

  Anita was their office manager, PA, receptionist – basically the woman ran the place. Without her they’d be sunk. So putting up with her uncanny ability to draw information from a person, seemingly without their knowledge, was a small price to pay. ‘She should be working for MI5,’ Adam muttered.

  ‘Seems she can get anyone to talk. Even you,’ Damon said cheerfully. ‘And then she spills it all to me, so I know exactly what’s going on in your bedroom, even though you don’t tell me directly.’

  As what was going on in his bedroom was actually a big fat nothing, Adam grunted but remained silent. Women might have shown an interest in him, but his own interest simply wasn’t there any more.

  ‘You know you should take some of those willing women up on their offer,’ Damon said quietly as he turned into the pub car park where they’d arranged to meet a few more friends for a drink. It was a Friday night ritual. Didn’t matter if you were single, like Adam, or married, like Damon. Friday night was boys’ night. ‘Might make you less grouchy.’

  ‘I’d forget the psychobabble and stick to designing buildings if I were you,’ Adam countered. ‘At least it’s something you’re mildly good at.’

  Gratefully Adam climbed out of the car. He knew Anita and Damon were trying to help but he was fed up with well-meaning people sticking their noses into his life, giving him advice, pushing him into things he didn’t want to do.

  Thank God he’d booked some time away.

  Chapter Two

  Nine days before Christmas

  Faith took a gulp of her tea and tried to hide her disappointment. It wasn’t her sister’s fault she’d been offered work that would take her from now until the first week in January to complete.

  But boy had she been relying on Hope to be with her during these next few weeks. Not just for another pair of hands, though she desperately needed those until her deputy manager started in January. What she also needed was Hope’s emotional support. For the first time since she’d fallen in love with The Old Mill, Faith was scared she didn’t have what it took to run her own hotel.

  ‘Are you ever going to forgive me?’ Hope smiled uncertainly at her from across the table. They were in the hotel restaurant, waiting for their parents to arrive so they could eat breakfast together. With a bit of luck, the fact that they weren’t here already, waiting for the restaurant to open, was a sign they’d slept well.

  ‘I suspect I will.’ As a flicker of hurt flashed across her sister’s face, Faith shoved aside her disappointment and squeezed Hope’s hand. ‘Of course, I’ll forgive you. It’s just I was banking on you being around to calm my nerves.’

  Hope looked at her incredulously. ‘You, nervous? You’re the most confident person I know. Besides, you’re not a novice at this game. You’ve studied hotel management. Worked in the trade. Didn’t you practically run that last place you worked in because the manager was always off sick?’

  ‘I know, I know. It’s just …’ Faith sighed, feeling a tug of emotion. ‘This isn’t only a job. It’s my dream, and I don’t want to screw it up.’

  ‘Oh sweetie.’ Hope shifted her chair closer and gave her a hug. ‘You won’t screw it up. Maybe I can ask for an extension on the article, help you out for a few days.’

  ‘No, don’t you dare.’ Faith gave her a reassuring smile. ‘I’ll be fine.’

  There were a few beats of silence, during which Hope started to twist her hands in her lap. ‘Umm, there is one more thing.’

  Faith couldn’t imagine it was worse than leaving her high and dry without help for the next few weeks. ‘Spit it out.’

  ‘Would you mind putting Chloe to some use?’

  At the mention of her niece, Faith groaned silently. She loved her, she really did, but a hormonal teenager was likely to be more trouble than she was worth.

  ‘She’s changed over the last few months,’ Hope added, and alarmingly, now her voice was beginning to tremble. ‘Tom and I don’t know what to do with her any more.’

  ‘What do you mean, changed?’

  ‘She’s started answering us back, being all sullen. I know mood swings are part of being a teenager and she was certainly never an angel, but there’s been another shift recently. She doesn’t seem happy any more.’ Tears crept into Hope’s eyes. ‘She’s put on weight and where she used to dye her hair lovely colours, the day she broke up from school she dyed it this awful tomato-red.’

  Faith gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘At least it’s the right colour for Christmas.’

  ‘That’s what Tom said.’ Hope dabbed at her eyes with a paper napkin. ‘And now school is finished she just sleeps, watches television and gawps at the phone that’s permanently glued to her hands. Most of the time she looks miserable. We thought if she could work with you, it might help. You know, channel her energy in a more positive direction. She can get the bus here and back so it wouldn’t mean you having to do anything.’

  Except make sure her unruly fifteen-year-old niece didn’t blow the fledgling hotel’s reputation. But Hope looked stressed and Faith wasn’t exactly overwhelmed with guests. Maybe she could use the time to bond again with the niece she’d seen only fleetingly over the last two years. ‘No problem. She can help me out on reception,’ she found herself saying.

  Relief filtered across Hope’s face. ‘Thanks baby sis. I owe you twice now.’

  ‘Perhaps not. I could really do with the extra pair of hands, so this might work out well.’

  Hope stared at her, a glint of amusement replacing the tears. ‘Are you trying to convince yourself?’

  Faith recalled the last time she’d seen her niece. ‘Yes?’

  ‘You always were the optimist in the family. Seriously though, I’ve told Chloe to be on her best behaviour. Oh and …’ she trailed off, looking awkward.

  ‘You’d like me to pay her?’ Faith guessed.

  Hope grimaced. ‘Sorry, I know that’s taking a liberty, but Chloe will be more reliable if she sees this as a job rather than a favour to her aunt. Only give her the money if she pulls her weight, though.’

  ‘Hey.’ Faith gave her sister’s hand a reassuring pat. ‘Stop looking so guilty. Of course if Chloe’s working, she should be paid. It will all work out, don’t worry. When can she start?’

  ‘When you do want her?’

  ‘I’ve got a guest arriving this afternoon. I could do with showing Chloe the ropes before he arrives, if she’s up for it.’

  ‘I’ll make sure she is.’ Finally, Hope’s face relaxed into a smile. ‘Your first guest, eh? I wonder if he knows how special he is.’ She waggled her eyebrows. ‘They say you always remember your first.’

  Faith rolled her eyes. ‘Very funny.’

  ‘At least your adverts are starting to work.’

  ‘Not for this one. Jason recommended me, apparently. Seems Mr Hunter designed his new shop.’

  ‘Wow, who’d have thought our brother would actually be useful for something for a change? I don’t suppose Mr Hunter is tall, dark, handsome and single is he?’ A gleam entered Hope’s eyes. ‘I’d really give Jason a high five if he was helpin
g your business and your love life.’

  Faith batted Hope away. ‘Enough. The whole Patrick disaster proves I can’t do this job and have a love life. All I want from Mr Hunter is a positive review on TripAdvisor.’

  Chloe was going to drive her mad. From her position at the top of the stairs looking down across the hallway, Faith could see her niece on the reception desk, where she’d left her half an hour ago.

  She was sitting on the stool, chewing gum and scrolling through her phone.

  Damn it. Faith had been careful not to bat an eyelid when Chloe had turned up with her bright red hair. She’d held her tongue when she’d noticed the garish green nail varnish. Presumably another festive touch. But the gum she couldn’t turn a blind eye to.

  She started to walk down the stairs just as the front door opened. And a big hairy giant walked in.

  Hairy perhaps wasn’t the right word. His dark hair was cut short and his beard was more designer stubble; trimmed and neat. Giant was definitely right though. He had to be six-four at least, with shoulders he must have had a hard time squeezing through the old wooden door.

  Her eyes scanned back towards Chloe, who was still blithely staring at her phone. How could she not have noticed him?

  As Faith scooted down the stairs she heard the man clear his throat.

  Still Chloe had her head down, totally ignoring him.

  ‘Excuse me?’ The man tried again to attract her attention, his voice deep but surprisingly soft for someone of his size.

  Heart in her mouth, Faith dashed across the hall. In her anxiety to rescue the visitor, she ran too close to the tree, sending several baubles flying. God damn it!

  Oh and joy of joys, one of them rolled to a halt right by the man’s left boot. His extremely large looking boot, though to be fair it was very much in proportion to the rest of him.

  He bent to pick it up, dangling the glittery silver bauble from his big hands.

  Panting and embarrassed, she took it from him. ‘Sorry. Thank you.’

  A pair of direct grey eyes stared at her from a face that wasn’t strictly handsome, yet still managed to drag all the remaining breath from her lungs. His nose was a shade too large, his chin a smidgen too square, his cheeks perhaps too angular, but by God he had something. A lot more than something. Rugged, she thought, trying to inhale some oxygen into her starving lungs. Rugged and very, very … male.

  Embarrassment turned into a fluster and she felt her cheeks burn with the effect of both. ‘Aside from hurling Christmas decorations at you, is there anything else I can help you with?’

  There was no reaction to her small joke. Just a steady gaze. ‘I’m checking in. Adam Hunter.’

  ‘Ah yes, we’re expecting you.’

  His eyes flicked over to Chloe, who’d finally put down her phone. ‘So I see.’

  Chloe stared up at him and shrugged. ‘Didn’t hear you come in.’

  Faith cringed as she watched the interaction. It was like watching a glass rolling to the edge of a table, yet not being able to reach out and stop it from falling.

  Mr Hunter’s eyes narrowed in on the earphones dangling from Chloe’s ears. ‘How could you hear me,’ he replied, agreeably.

  Faith studied his body language – and there was certainly a lot of body to convey that language – trying to determine whether he really was as calm as he sounded. The huge hands holding his case were relaxed, the expression on his face neutral. Yet if she were him, she’d be annoyed to the point of walking out.

  ‘I’m sorry my niece didn’t hear you,’ she interrupted hastily, attempting a placatory smile. ‘Chloe is helping me out over the Christmas break. It’s hard to prize fifteen-year-olds away from their phones.’ She held out her hand. ‘I’m Faith Watkins, hotel owner. I’m delighted to welcome you to The Old Mill.’

  Adam was starting to wonder about the wisdom of his decision to stay in The Old Mill Hotel. It had looked promising from the outside. He might spend his days designing new buildings but he had a soft spot for old ones; for the history, the tales they could tell if they could speak. The teenager on the reception desk, hair the colour of a post-box, he wasn’t so enamoured with. He wasn’t bothered about being ignored in favour of a phone – he was pretty damn good at ignoring others too, when he wanted to. He was more concerned at what it said for the rest of the hotel, if the best receptionist Ms Watkins could come up with was her rather sullen niece.

  His eyes skirted past Faith Watkins and into the hall beyond her, the one smothered in so many Christmas decorations he could almost hear it groaning under the weight. Or maybe the groaning was coming from him. He’d come away to try and forget all about blasted Christmas. Not be thrust headlong into it. Sure he’d anticipated a tree and a few baubles – there was never any escape from the season – but he hadn’t expected to be spending his fortnight in Santa’s flaming grotto.

  Thoughts of turning round and walking out jumped through his head but what would he do then? Drive four and a half hours back home. Accept Emma’s invitation?

  A cold shudder ran through him. Not an option.

  He glanced back at Ms Watkins, only to find she was still holding out her hand, worry now marring her exceptionally pretty face. And yes, he had noticed. Just as he’d also noticed her sparky hazel eyes, her soft brown curly hair. She clearly thought he was about to blow a fuse and walk out.

  He might like order, and The Old Mill looked to be more on the chaos end of the spectrum, but Adam wasn’t prone to too many “dicky fits”, despite what Damon thought. So he put aside his aversion to the over-the-top decorations and grasped Faith’s hand, giving it a brief shake. He was a big bastard, he knew that, but it felt like holding a child’s hand. Until she squeezed back, surprising him with her strength.

  ‘If we could just ask you to complete a registration form.’ Faith slipped behind the reception desk, shooting her niece a few looks Adam was pretty certain he could interpret. Put the bloody phone away. Get rid of the gum.

  As Faith bent to retrieve the form, Chloe snatched it from her hands. ‘You told me that was my job.’ Chloe thumped the form onto the reception desk. ‘You need to fill this out.’

  Adam surprised himself by wanting to smile. He wasn’t sure if it was at Chloe’s angst, or her aunt’s horrified expression.

  ‘I also told you your job was answering the phone and greeting anyone who walked through the door,’ Faith replied in an admirably mild tone.

  The teenager raised her eyebrows. ‘Okay, don’t get lairy.’

  They both turned to him then, Faith’s brown eyes swimming in apology, Chloe’s with indifference.

  ‘Pen?’ he asked.

  As Faith opened one of the drawers, Chloe pulled a chewed biro out of her pocket and handed it to him.

  Gingerly he took it from her. ‘Hungry, were you?’

  Chloe stared at him blankly, but her aunt’s face, when she turned and saw the pen he’d been handed, was much more expressive. ‘Chloe,’ she muttered. ‘We’re supposed to be presenting a professional image.’

  The teenager shrugged again. ‘It works, dunnit?’

  Lips twitching, Adam began to fill in the form. He was halfway through his name when he felt a soft warm hand cover his. For a brief moment his heart bounced. Then the hand disappeared and he found the pen he’d been holding replaced with a new black one, bearing the hotel name.

  Faith smiled. ‘I can’t have my first guest filling in his registration form using a chewed biro.’

  Though he’d suspected as much, Adam raised his eyebrows. ‘First guest?’

  Faith flushed. ‘I wasn’t going to admit that, but yes. Well technically you’re my third, but the first two were my parents. They checked in yesterday.’

  ‘Did they survive the night?’

  He was treated to a smile of genuine amusement – di
fferent to the professional one she’d given him up until now. And damn if he didn’t get a small buzz knowing he’d caused it. ‘They did, thank you. They even slept in this morning and missed breakfast. Maybe you’ll be able to do the same.’

  Adam hadn’t been able to sleep beyond 5 a.m. for the last three years. He gave Faith a small smile. ‘Nothing would make me miss breakfast.’

  Hastily he completed the form, which was immediately snatched away by Chloe. ‘Says here you live in Windsor? Isn’t that posh?’

  Faith stiffened at her niece’s question and Adam had a strong feeling the aunt was getting ready to slap a hand over her niece’s mouth to shut her up. ‘The Queen seems to like it,’ he murmured.

  Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Chloe dangled a heavy brass key in front of him. As he reached for it he was aware of Faith giving her niece a pointed look.

  Chloe huffed out a deep sigh. ‘I’m supposed to ask if I can help with anything else?’

  He toyed with the idea of asking a barrage of questions just for the hell of it; the opening times of the restaurant, where the nearest cinema was, whether she could press his trousers. Then he figured making Jason’s sister watch her niece’s customer service technique any longer was probably verging on cruelty. ‘That’s all for now, thanks. Just point me in the direction of my room.’

  Faith gave him a relieved looking smile. ‘I’ll show you.’

  Picking up his case, he followed Faith Watkins’ short, trim figure as she strode through the hallway – otherwise known as Santa’s grotto.

  ‘What brings you to The Old Mill, Mr Hunter?’ She turned slightly to look at him. ‘Visiting friends or family in the area for Christmas?’

  Adam kept his expression neutral. ‘No, nothing like that.’ He stared up at the excessively decorated tree. ‘I’ve actually come to escape Christmas.’ The moment the words were out he wondered why on earth he’d told her the truth; to everyone else he’d said he wanted a break. A change of scenery.

  Faith halted, causing him to bump into her. It was only a light touch but he felt a prickle of awareness as her curves brushed his arm. A feeling he hadn’t had in a long time.