But something had shifted between us under that mistletoe—something I wasn't ready to let go of just yet.
Chapter14
Claire
Icouldn’t keep myself from grinning like a fool.Every time I thought about the kiss, my heart did a little somersault.The feel of his lips on mine had ignited something deep within me, a warmth that spread through my chest and made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t in years.
Christian and I walked back to the inn, the crisp afternoon air wrapping around us like a silent companion.The Christmas market had been beautiful, and despite his initial reluctance, I sensed he might have enjoyed it a little.
As we reached the inn’s porch, I turned to him, hesitating for a moment.“I should check on my grandmother.”
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice low.
We stood there, staring at each other.The night seemed to hold its breath, waiting.
“Right,” I said, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks.“Well, if you want to come down for dinner…” My words trailed off.I was babbling.“Um, anyway, thanks for coming with me today.And I—” Biting my bottom lip, I felt the heat rise in my face again.“Right.I'll see you.”
Christian nodded, his eyes never leaving mine.
I turned quickly and headed inside, scurrying down the hall, feeling my heart race.Once I was out of sight, I pressed myself against the wall and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.Despite my best efforts to maintain composure, a smile broke out across my face that I couldn’t suppress even if I tried.
When I heard footsteps approaching, I quickly turned around, half expecting to see Christian himself standing there.Instead, it was Mrs.Jensen from down the road, coming in for her usual cup of tea and chat.
“Morning, Claire,” she said, eyeing me with a knowing smile.“You look positively radiant today.”
“Good morning, Mrs.Jensen,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.“Just another busy day at the inn.”
“Oh, don’t try to fool an old woman,” she chuckled.“There’s something different about you today.”
I felt my cheeks flush and quickly changed the subject.“Would you like your usual Earl Grey?”
Mrs.Jensen gave me one last amused look before nodding.“Yes, please.”
As I prepared her tea, I couldn’t help but steal glances out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Christian.Who was I right now, some kind of middle school girl?But he was nowhere in sight.Part of me wanted to find him and kiss him again, but another part was afraid of pushing too hard and scaring him away.
I quietly made my way down the hallway to check on Grandma.Her room was always a haven of warmth and love, filled with the faint scent of lavender and the soft glow of her bedside lamp.Pushing open the door, I saw her resting peacefully, her silver hair spread out on the pillow like a halo.She looked so serene that it brought an involuntary smile to my face.
I didn’t want to disturb her, so I gently closed the door and tiptoed back out.My own room beckoned with promises of solitude and a hot shower, something I desperately needed after the emotionally charged day.
Once inside, I headed straight for the bathroom.The steam rose as soon as I turned on the water, enveloping me in a cocoon of warmth.Stepping under the hot spray, I felt my muscles unwind, tension melting away with each passing second.It was like washing away all the questions and speculations that had been swirling in my mind since Christian arrived.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, I reluctantly turned off the water and stepped out.Wrapping myself in a towel, I walked over to my closet.The soft fabric of my favorite sweater called to me, so I pulled it on along with a pair of jeans.Simple but comforting—just what I needed.
I glanced at the clock and realized it was time to start getting ready for dinner.Taking a deep breath, I went downstairs to prepare.There was something soothing about cooking; it allowed me to focus on something tangible, something real amidst all the emotional turmoil.
I decided on making stew.It was the perfect dish for a chilly evening, something hearty and comforting.As I chopped the vegetables, I found myself humming Christmas songs.The familiar tunes brought a sense of normalcy, grounding me in the moment.
Jane, the other cook, bustled around the kitchen with her usual efficiency."You seem to be in good spirits today," she observed with a sly grin.
"Just trying to get into the holiday mood," I replied, stirring the pot and watching the ingredients meld together.
The dinner rush arrived in full swing, filling the inn with the hum of conversation and the clinking of silverware.The distraction was welcome; it allowed me to focus on serving dinner rather than dwelling on Christian.
I moved between tables, refilling drinks and delivering plates of steaming stew.The scent of rosemary and thyme filled the air, mingling with laughter and chatter.As I approached one table, a couple caught my attention with their hushed but intense conversation.
"Never should have gotten involved," the man muttered, his eyes darting around as if checking for eavesdroppers.
His companion leaned closer, her expression one of disdain."I'm not surprised he's here.I doubt the British government wants anything to do with him."
