Not Just for Christmas

Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

L ewis wasn’t entirely sure how long it was appropriate to stare at a bunch of mistletoe for, but he’d definitely moved past a mild interest in horticulture and was now bordering on oddball behaviour. The trouble was, as soon as he shifted his gaze, he had a decision to make.

Should he kiss her? Or should he roll his eyes and mutter something about Ivy being an idiot, then get back to work? Because Erin was a hotel guest so he shouldn’t really be kissing her. Plus, there was work he should be doing. There always was.

“That’s mistletoe,” he said dumbly when the silence became unbearable.

“Yes,” Erin agreed, so close that he’d only have to lean a little until they were touching. He really wanted them to be touching.

Except it would be sleazy of him to kiss a hotel guest in the foyer. Wouldn’t it?

Part of him didn’t even care. A quick glance told him there was no one around.

As uncertainty gripped him, he moved so his fingers brushed hers. Ever since they’d left the ice rink, he’d been missing the feeling of her hand in his .

“I think it’s bad luck,” she said, the tips of her fingers caressing his.

“What is?” His whispered voice came out with a weird rasp.

“If you don’t kiss under the mistletoe. It’s bad luck. Isn’t that what they say?”

He nodded slowly. “It sounds right to me.” Mostly, it sounded as though she wanted him to kiss her, which was all the encouragement he needed.

He took half a step, then bent his head. Her green eyes locked with his and he swore he could get lost in them for weeks.

Inching closer, her breath swept over his lips in a soft caress that felt as though it might drive him wild.

And then she shifted and kissed him so softly that it made his heart stop dead and then race so fast it made his head spin.

He closed his eyes, savouring the softness of her lips and hating that he could already feel her pulling away.

Desperately, he wanted to take her face in his hands and keep kissing her until they ran out of breath. But this flirtation between them wasn’t destined to be anything more.

She’d be gone in a few days.

When she pulled back from the kiss, he kept his fingers entwined with hers, but resisted the urge to kiss her the way he really wanted to.

For a moment, Erin had thought he wouldn’t kiss her at all. She’d contemplated continuing on her way and brushing the moment aside. But she’d had a glass of mulled wine and was feeling daring. She’d wanted to kiss him and when she did, it felt like the world stopped, just for a moment.

Her heart was beating furiously as she drew away, hoping that he’d pull her back and demand more.

He didn’t, but he also didn’t run away. His fingers tightened around hers and his eyes trailed over her face as though he were drinking in every detail.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Thank you?”

“I didn’t want bad luck on Christmas Eve.”

He moved closer and slipped his free hand over her hip. “No one wants that,” he said. “I’m feeling pretty lucky at this moment.”

His hungry eyes landed on her lips and her breath caught in her throat as she anticipated another kiss.

“Lewis!” a high-pitched voice called, making him take a small step back and whip around.

“Yeah?” he replied, his voice just a little frosty.

Jenny looked terrified as she stood completely still on the other side of the room. “A man asked if he can take his whiskey up to his room and I don’t know if that’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay.” Lewis gave a small shake of the head. “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

“Ivy mentioned that sometimes guests steal stuff, so I wasn’t sure.”

“It’s fine.” He still had his fingers curled around Erin’s and she felt an odd sense of pride that he hadn’t dropped it when they’d been disturbed.

He’d just turned back to her when another voice called out to him.

“Your mum called,” the guy in his chef’s whites announced across the room. “I’m supposed to tell you to make sure you go to midnight mass.”

“Why did she call you and not me?” Lewis asked.

“She said you weren’t answering.”

Lewis pulled his phone from his pocket and grimaced.

“I’m going home,” the chef said. “The kitchen is closed until tomorrow. I’ll see you bright and early. ”

“I need to talk to you before you leave,” Lewis told him. “Just wait for two minutes.”

He raised a hand in salute and sauntered back the way he’d come.

“Sorry,” Lewis said to Erin.

“It’s fine. Go and get on with your work.”

“Are you going to midnight mass?” he asked as his fingers finally slipped from hers.

“Yes.”

“Great. I have some stuff to do around here first, but I’ll see you there. My mum will kill me if I don’t make it.”

“Is your family religious?” she asked.

“No. Mum is just big on traditions.”

“I’ll see you later,” Erin said, then watched him leave with a cascade of butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

“I just kissed Erin,” Lewis said, completely flustered as he walked into the kitchen.

Warren leaned casually against the counter on the back wall. “The woman staying here? The one you were just in the lounge with?”

“Yeah. That’s when I kissed her.”

“Wow.” Warren folded his arms across his chest. “Nice work.”

“I shouldn’t have, should I?” He paced beside the shining, stainless-steel countertop. “She’s a guest, and it’s weird, but there was mistletoe and we’d kind of been flirting.”

“When were you flirting with her?”

Lewis paused his pacing and shrugged. “Since I met her.”

“That’s cool,” Warren said.

“Is it? She’s a guest at the hotel. ”

“She’s also a grown woman and I assume a willing participant?”

Lewis shot his friend a look. Warren had been the head chef for the past three years and had become one of Lewis’s closest friends in that time.

“I don’t think there’s a rule that says you can’t kiss a guest. It’s not as though you’re going to get fired, is it?” He didn’t leave room for Lewis to speak. “If having liaisons with guests was a sackable offence, I’d be long gone. Though I am discreet, so I’d get away with it.”

Lewis glared at him. “Which guests have you had liaisons with?”

“I don’t kiss and tell, mate, but I’m telling you it’s fine.”

“It felt weird,” Lewis said.

“In that case, you were doing it wrong.”

“Not the kiss. That didn’t feel weird. That felt great. The situation feels wrong. Is it an abuse of power or something?”

“No. That’d be if she were an employee and you were her boss. But that’s not what this is.”

“Then why do I feel as though I’m doing something wrong?”

“Because you don’t usually do stuff like this. I’m telling you, it’s not a problem. It’s Christmas, have a fling!”

“I really like her,” Lewis said.

“More than just a fling?”

“I think so, but I only met her two days ago.”

Warren unfolded his arms and shifted his weight. “Does she know about…?”

Lewis shook his head. “Not unless she heard from someone else. I haven’t told her.”

“You probably should. If you’re thinking it’s more than a fling, anyway.”

“I don’t know if it is more than a fling. Or if she even wants a fling. It was literally a quick peck under the mistletoe.”

“No tongue?”

“No.” He sank his teeth into his lower lip. “Still a good kiss, though.”

“How long is she staying in the hotel?”

“Three more nights.”

“Okay, then use that time to get to know her better.” Warren grabbed his backpack from the counter and slung it onto his shoulder. “And for god’s sake, next time you kiss her, get some tongue action.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Lewis said as his friend exited through the back door.