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“Oh, Ethan. I like her. I like her a lot.”

I went back out to the front desk where Lexie had somehow found a blackboard and was cleaning it off. I was determined to make that mistake comment go away.

“Where did that come from?” I asked about the blackboard.

She pointed to a closet that I had forgotten even existed.

“I’m going to be back to take you for lunch at the Christmas Jamboree.”

“I’m the front desk girl, Ethan.” Her voice was rich with attitude and sarcasm. “I don’t think it makes sense for you—running for mayor and everything—to take the front desk girl out for lunch.”

“I’ll be back at one,” I said, ignoring her protests. “You get an hour and I’m taking you for lunch. You’ll like the Jamboree. It’s pretty magical.”

“Well, I suppose you’re the boss,” she said, and our eyes caught over the blackboard and the Christmas decorations and she was being sarcastic, not sexy, but the idea of being the boss of her was suddenly extremely sexy.

“Keep your head out of the gutter,” she whispered, but her cheeks were flushed and I knew she’d been thinking the same thing.

“I wish I remembered fucking you,” I said quietly.

“I’m sure you do.”

“It was good, wasn’t it?”

“I think for the sake of employee/boss relations, that subject is off limits.”

Her cheeks were still bright red but someone came down the stairs and the moment was over. I tapped the desk. “See you at one, Lexie.”

I left the inn counting down the minutes to lunch.

Lexie

Matt, the professional hockey player, walked in the back door and stopped at the front desk. He actually had a hockey stick over his shoulder. We’d met briefly at the front door when I first came to the inn, when Ethan was being mobbed at the front desk.

“Hello again, Matt.”

“Did you find your husband?” he asked.

His eyes went wide and his smile cracked open that beard. Lord, that man needed a spa day. “I did. Thanks.”

“Why are you working the front desk?”

“Because someone has to.”

He nodded like that made sense.

“Listen, I’m gonna need your schedule.”

“Fuck no,” he said. A cute girl came in the back door after him, she had a hat and gloves on. Sensible boots. They looked warm, those boots, and my toes in my cowboy boots were freezing. Never thought I’d be jealous of a pair of sensible winter boots.

“Matt,” the girl said. “Please stop swearing at people. It’s really messing with what I’m trying to do here.”

“Lexie wants my schedule and I said fuck no.” Matt shrugged.

“I’m Lexie,” I said, lifting my hand.

“Jasmine,” the girl said, and we shook hands. “I’m running a PR campaign to help make the inn profitable.”

“Oh, then you’re who I should talk to. I don’t want, like…every detail of Matt’s schedule, just the times in the day you might be available to your fans who are staying at the inn. Because they really want to see Matt.”

“Fuck no.”

“Well,” I said. “If you don’t, they’re going to hound me, and everyone else at this inn until they find out when they can bask in your charm.” I batted my eyelashes at him and Jasmine laughed. “Even if it’s fifteen minutes down at the pond. Give them what they want and they’ll probably leave you alone the rest of the time.”

“This is a good idea,” Jasmine said, and turned and looked at Matt. It was a real stare off until Jasmine lifted her eyebrow and Matt rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he muttered and I grinned, wondering what little Jasmine had over the big bad hockey player. She pulled a piece of paper out of her purse. “He’ll be down at the pond every day at this time.”

“Fine. Skating. But no autographs,” Matt growled.

“Skating, photos, and autographs.”

“Jasmine,” Matt said, a warning clear in his voice.

“Matt,” Jasmine growled back at him. She pushed the paper over toward me and grinned. “Lexie, I’m really happy you’re here.”

Jasmine walked away toward the front door and Matt stood there staring at me.

“What?” I asked, wiping my nose. “Do I have a booger—”

“Ethan’s a lucky son of a bitch,” he said and left.

12

Ethan

I opened the front door to the inn and it was the same as it had been yesterday. Same decorations we’ve had since Mom was alive. Same rotation of Christmas carols. Same. Same. Same. Except it was totally new because of the woman standing behind the desk.

She made everything glamorous. And sexy.

And no one would ever call the Kringle Inn sexy.

But she made it all sparkle just a little more.

“Ethan,” she said when the couple she’d been talking to went up the stairs to their room. She walked around the desk and started pulling on her coats. Baby Girl stood in front of her and growled at me. “I have a long list of places we need to eat lunch at.”

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