Christmas In Icicle Creek: Home For The Holidays Read online

  Tristan grinned at her when she turned to look at him. She gave him a tight smile before turning her attention back to the customer. “Thanks so much for coming.” Her voice was warm and sincere. “We hope you’ll visit us again.”

  The customer nodded his appreciation before stepping past Tristan, who moved in the direction of the front desk. Making his way around the tall wooden countertop, Tristan settled next to Noelle, who moved a step away.

  Tristan was surprised at her desire for distance, but he let it go. “What’s on the agenda today?”

  “I’ll show you how the computer works, and you can watch me today. Then, during our next training session, I’ll step back and let you handle it.”

  Concern moved through Tristan. He didn’t want to be left alone to handle the customers, and he hoped for Noelle’s company for as long as possible. “You’re not going to leave me here to figure all of this out, are you?”

  Noelle kept her distance. “No. Nothing like that. We’ll just trade places in a couple of days. Right now, we only have one computer, anyway. Sian and George are thinking about buying another, which might be helpful if they want both of us here, but I don’t know if it’s necessary.”

  Tristan furrowed his brow. It sounded as if she thought his presence wasn’t necessary and that she was eager for him to move on. He pushed that thought away as Noelle leaned over the desk and began pushing the mouse around and clicking through the different screens. Tristan moved in close, and she began showing him the checking-in and checking-out process that set up and then generated the customer’s invoice.

  Tristan tried to focus on the screen in front of him and what Noelle was saying, but her tropical perfume encircled him with a warm closeness. After several minutes, the intoxication of orange blossoms and some unnamed scent left him unable to focus. He loved the warm euphoria of it, but the desire to touch her and run his fingers through her hair made it difficult to concentrate. He stopped her midway through her explanation about credit cards. “What is that scent you’re wearing?”

  “Umm … shampoo?”

  Tristan was tongue-tied, and the experience was new for him. “Oh. I thought it might be … I don’t know. Maybe something tropical … It’s just so …” Heat rose from Tristan’s chest into his neck and face as he thought of all the words he could use to describe Noelle’s perfume. It was alluring, beguiling, captivating …

  Noelle turned to face Tristan, her cool green eyes meeting his. “Yes?”

  Noelle was not going to make this easy. He had never been embarrassed by a girl before, and now he found himself stammering when he wanted to be smooth and debonair. “It’s just so … nice.”

  “Thanks. It’s aromatherapy for my hair,” she said casually. “Orange vanilla. I buy it from Hawaii.” She turned back to the computer screen.

  Vanilla! Of course, that was the unnamed scent. “It must be nice in the shower,” Tristan said before turning a deeper shade of red. “I mean. Well, what I meant to say was …”

  Noelle straightened, giving Tristan her first genuine smile, and his breath stopped. Everything about her glowed when she smiled. Her green eyes turned the color of translucent jade, and her cheeks illuminated a sweet apricot blush that highlighted her alabaster skin.

  “It is nice in the shower,” she said. The warm water helps the scent to spread, and it smells … nice.” She laughed.

  “Yeah. Nice.” Tristan grinned. He tried to put the aroma out of his mind. “Okay, well … what were you saying about credit cards?”

  Noelle turned her attention back to the screen, and Tristan tried once again to focus. But the picture of Noelle’s smile was tucked inside his head. Could he make her smile again? It was worth almost any effort.

  As the clock inched toward eleven o’clock, the line along the front desk grew. Tristan watched Noelle’s interaction with each guest and admired her understanding of each customer. She fused professional warmth with a casual air, leaving each guest with a smile. He doubted he would he ever be able to master such charm and grace.

  The last customer came to the desk. He was an older man wearing a sports jacket and chinos. Tristan immediately took a dislike to the gentleman, and he sharpened his observation of the interaction between Noelle and this man.

  “Quite a nice little inn you have here,” he stated.

  “Thank you, sir. I hope you enjoyed your stay.”

  “Oh, I did. I’ll be coming again soon.”

  “We always like to hear that.” Noelle began printing out the man’s receipt. She handed him a copy. “Thank you, Mr. Robinson.”

  Mr. Robinson took the receipt, but instead of returning Noelle’s final greeting, he stayed. Tristan’s inner alarm system began to ring. Something definitely wasn’t right.

  Mr. Robinson leaned forward against the front desk. “When I come back, Miss …” Mr. Robinson squinted to look at Noelle’s name tag. Or were his eyes drawn to something else? His voice took a husky tone. “When I come back, Noelle, can my stay include some time with you? You’re the prettiest little thing, and I’d love for you to show me the, umm … amenities.”

  Tristan stood and moved toward Noelle in a desire to protect her from whatever Mr. Robinson had on his mind. “Listen, mister!”

  Mr. Robinson turned to Tristan. “Oh! I didn’t see you there.”

  Noelle placed her hand on Tristan’s chest to stop his forward motion, but her eyes never left Mr. Robinson’s face.

  Tristan placed his hand over hers, and the warmth from her touch spread through him like a wildfire, igniting the adrenaline already pumping through his blood.

  Noelle did not smile as she addressed Mr. Robinson, but her voice was professional while still maintaining a level of warmth. “Mr. Robinson. I’m not a thing, and to be blunt, the amenities are clearly outlined in the information packet in your room. In fact, you can take a copy with you.” She handed him a thick nine-by-twelve envelope. “This also outlines all that Icicle Creek has to offer, and I hope you’ll take full advantage of the information during your next stay.”

  Mr. Robinson took the packet and stuffed it under his arm. Giving Tristan a quick glance, he hurried out the door.

  Astonishment filled Tristan as he let out his pent-up breath. He squeezed Noelle’s hand and soaked in the warmth from her touch that penetrated his shirt and moved straight to his heart. He opened his mouth to speak.

  Noelle gave Tristan a quick glance before turning toward the computer. “Wait just a sec.” She pulled up Mr. Robinson’s account and marked it with a red flag.

  “You were incredible,” Tristan said. “I can’t believe how you handled that jerk. I wanted to—” He moved closer. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m glad that happened,” Noelle said.

  Tristan blinked. How could she be glad something like that happened? He was about to ask her a series of questions when she straightened up from the computer and dropped her hand from Tristan’s chest. Tristan immediately missed the connection and wished for the return of her touch.

  Noelle continued, “I need to show you this.” She pointed to the top of the screen. “See that little red flag icon?”

  As he leaned toward the screen, Tristan resisted the urge to place his hand over Noelle’s and recapture the warmth for which he was already yearning.

  “This is a perfect training opportunity. If a guest ever gives you trouble, you can click that, and it alerts the rest of the staff. See here?” A comment box dropped down from the red flag. “This will let you give a short description of what happened.” She typed in a brief explanation of what took place and then marked the icon labeled “sexual harassment.” “If Mr. Robinson comes again, we can call up this information and everyone on staff will know to watch him. The housekeepers, Joy and Beth, will be notified when they pull up their worksheets for the day, and they’ll know to go into his room together.”

  “I doubt I’ll have that kind of trouble,” Tristan stated.

  “Don’t be too sure.”
Noelle gave Tristan a quick, furtive glance before turning her attention back to the screen. “Trouble comes in all shapes and sizes. Besides, any kind of trouble is … well, troublesome. So, just make sure you keep a quick record.”

  The adrenaline began to drain from Tristan, leaving him unsure of how to stay close to Noelle. Her touch ignited something inside, but now that the danger was over, he didn’t want to be overbearing. He straightened up. “I didn’t know hotels and inns kept track of these things.”

  “Most don’t,” Noelle explained. “But Sian and George made some modifications to the system they bought. Because we’re a small inn and we have so much repeat business, they wanted to make sure everyone is kept safe.”

  “Did you have that kind of thing at the Four Seasons?” Tristan asked. He made a mental note of the brief flicker of heartache that passed through Noelle’s eyes at the mention of her last place of employment, and wondered what it meant.

  “No,” she said. “This is a special modification made by George and Sian. At the Four Seasons, they just kept basic contact information and preferences, such as special requests. Sometimes, they’ll add a correspondence if a guest has sent an email or made an inquiry.”

  Tristan had never considered the issue of safety before, but seeing how directly it affected Noelle, it distressed him. “How did you stay safe there?”

  “I don’t know how other hotels within the chain do it, but on the Big Island, we implemented a buddy system. If someone was heading to a guest room, they were supposed to check in with another staff member and give them a return time. I also learned to trust my own instincts. After a while, you start to get a sixth sense about who can be trouble. I worked the front desk, so I wasn’t at as much risk as, say, the housekeepers.” She shrugged. “Most guests are a real pleasure to be around, but one problem visitor can wreak havoc. So, we pay pretty close attention. It helped that …” That twinge of pain returned to her eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “Nothing,” Noelle said. “The buddy system worked out well.”

  The desire to ask more questions pushed up within Tristan, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to see more sorrow flashing in her eyes. What caused it? Was her time at the Four Seasons unhappy? Maybe she had a boyfriend there. The new thought roiled through Tristan. Oh! He hoped not! Was there a way he could find out without being too obvious?

  His thought was interrupted by Noelle asking, “What brings you to work at the Fox Hollow Inn? Last time we met, you said it was your mom’s idea.”

  Tristan’s own anguish clenched his heart as the old worry circled in his mind like vultures. Did she know the real reason he was here? He swallowed hard, trying to sound casual. “Oh, you know how winters can be. I’ve got some downtime from the orchard, and Mom thought it would be a good idea for me to get out. I can be a bit of a hermit when the snow flies.”

  “You? A hermit? That’s surprising.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know.” Noelle shrugged. “I would’ve never pictured you a hermit. In high school, you were always so—so outgoing.”

  Tristan detected a ping of resentment in her words as the earlier warmth they shared began to dissipate, leaving Tristan wishing for more. His curiosity overcame his worries over what she might know about him. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why wouldn’t you go out with me earlier this week?” He watched her closely.

  Surprise and some cool nameless emotion passed through her eyes. “Do you really want to know?”

  Dread swallowed Tristan. Here was where he would find out if she was familiar with the Arizona story. “Yeah.”

  “Do you remember how many classes we had together in high school, especially during your senior year?”

  Tristan stared at her in disbelief. Was she really going to talk about high school? He shrugged. “I don’t know, but several. We often sat by each other, too.”

  “You have a better memory than I thought.” She leveled her gaze. “Do you know exactly how many times you spoke to me?”

  Tristan folded his arms as irritation riddled him. He knew where this was going. “Let me guess. Never.”

  Noelle’s tone hardened. “You do have a good memory.”

  Tristan cocked his head and gave her a fierce look. “And how many times did you speak to me?” He turned away. “I would guess we could call that a draw.”

  “That’s a cop-out,” Noelle said. “I was shy, and you were …”

  Tristan took a step closer, only to be met with the scent of orange and vanilla. The aroma threw him off, and his gaze softened. “What was I?”

  “Everything I wasn’t. You were popular and athletic. Good grades came to you with ease. I watched you in class. You rarely paid attention, but perfect scores just rolled in. Everything was easy for you. And all you had to do was turn your head and say hello to me. That would’ve been easy, too.”

  Tristan stared at her in astonishment. He couldn’t comprehend how Noelle would condemn him for behavior that took place seven years ago. “You want to listen to a cop-out? Here’s one. It’s blaming me for not speaking. That aisle went both ways. You always had your nose in a book or your face was glued to some screen. I couldn’t have gotten your attention if I tried.” He paused. “And things weren’t nearly as easy for me as you’d like to think.”

  Noelle blinked.

  Tristan continued, “So, whatever age-old chip you’ve got on your shoulder, you’ll just have to carry that alone.” Frustration mounted inside his chest. “Are we done here?”

  Noelle pursed her lips before speaking. “We finished long ago.”

  “Good. I’ll check with George to see if he needs anything.” Sparks of exasperation exploded inside as Tristan turned and began walking toward the exit.

  “That’s a great idea!” Noelle called after him.

  Tristan clenched his teeth. What gave her the right to judge him so thoroughly? Did she honestly think high school was easy for him? It was true that his sophomore and most of his junior year floated by almost effortlessly. In fact, he hardly remembered them. But after his father died, nothing came easy. His senior year was torture. Every day, he sat next to Noelle, and he felt more alone than the day before. Courtney had been his only comfort, and that relationship fell apart. At that point in their relationship, she was offering nothing but demands and ultimatums, and his decision to move to Arizona widened the already deepening chasm between them. Their constant fighting created another loss while he still mourned his father. He’d needed a friend back then, and some unseen force made him believe Noelle could have been that friend.

  Tristan pushed through the door at the back of the inn, trying to leave behind his disappointment around Noelle’s words. But it crawled under his skin and followed him into the crisp autumn afternoon.

  Returning Sampson to her and her family had made him his happiest in years, and then seeing her at the inn and knowing they were working together felt like a gift. Finally, he could see a flicker of life beyond his Arizona mistakes. Sensing a small glimmer of that hope and dream and then having it yanked away, especially due to some slight that took place seven years ago, left him cheerless and irritable.

  Tristan brushed the thought away. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have time to think about it. If George was ready put him to work, and if that work was hard enough, it might just be enough to help him recover from this fresh misfortune. He just hoped it would also aid in his desire to lose the newly minted memory of Noelle’s smile, and the way it fused with the inviting warmth that rose from his chest as her touch pierced through to his heart.

  Chapter 6

  The following day, clouds scuttled across the October sky, chased by a chilling autumn breeze. Noelle turned from the window and gave an involuntary shudder as she moved closer to the fire that crackled in the fireplace of her living room. Drawing her knees up under her, she cozied up on the couch. Sampson soon joined her and flopped down with his head
in her lap and began to doze. With one hand, Noelle stroked the sleeping pup, and with the other, she fingered the pendant around her neck.

  Noelle cherished the cluster of opal turtles. It was all she had left of Kendall and the memory of her time as a front-desk clerk at the Four Seasons on the Big Island, where they’d met. Kendall was the boss over her supervisor, and he’d caught her eye on her first day of work. His thick, shiny black hair, deep brown eyes, bronzed skin, and graceful body made most women turn their heads. She’d counted herself lucky when she discovered he was also attracted to her.

  During their eighteen-month relationship, he’d offered her a plethora of gifts. After work, it wasn’t unusual for her to find sweet cards or freshly picked Hawaiian blooms tucked under the windshield wipers of her car. Often, during candlelight dinners, he would present her with beautifully wrapped packages containing silk scarves, handcrafted barrettes, or other small but meaningful tokens. Kendall was romance on steroids, and Noelle treasured each show of his affection, but was it love? With Kendall, Noelle wasn’t sure. He never spoke words of love or even devotion. When she tried to deepen their relationship with words, he fell silent as if retreating into some shell where she was not welcome. It left her sad, and there was a constant pinprick of questioning. Did she ever really know Kendall? And yet she was drawn to his quiet demeanor and mysterious persona, even if it filled her with uncertainty. One particular day inserted itself into her pondering as she recalled the painful memories that orbited her last few weeks in Hawaii.

  After breaking up with Kendall and with the suspicion of his affections being divided fresh in her head, Noelle packed up his gifts in a fit of anger and took them to Goodwill as she was preparing to go back to Icicle Creek. Once she reached Goodwill, she plopped hard on the counter the box holding every physical shred of their relationship and pushed it away, before reaching behind her neck to unclasp the pendant. Moving the box aside, the woman at the receiving desk eyed Noelle carefully. With hesitation, Noelle showed the woman the cluster of turtles in the palm of her hand.