“Just wait until you try their hot chocolate. It’s amazing,” Nathan told her. “You’ll love it.”
“I can’t wait,” she replied with a grin. “I love hot chocolate. It’s one of my favorite drinks in the whole world.”
They left their skis outside and hung their jackets on a wooden peg inside the heavy front door. Warmth from multiple fireplaces made the room comfortable after the cold outside. Yet another Christmas tree sat in a position of honor. Nathan ignored it.
The restaurant was styled like an old log cabin. The furniture inside was rustic, but the windows were huge. The hostess sat them at a small table in front of the main window overlooking the ski basin.
“Wow,” Holly whispered. She sat staring out the window at the incoming storm over the craggy peaks. Dark clouds sat like unhappy hats on the tops of the mountains as snow fell, turning the dark green pine trees to white statues.
“It’s a great view,” he agreed, settling into his chair. He stretched his legs out under the table, wiggling his toes. They’d both loosened their boots and now the circulation was slowly returning to his feet.
“It’s kind of what I imagine the North Pole looks like,” Holly told him, her eyes still glued to the window.
“The North Pole?” Nathan wondered why she was thinking of the North Pole. This was more like Antarctica with the mountain ranges.
“Yeah. Like Santa,” she said with a smile. She motioned to the Christmas tree behind him and it was then that he noticed the soft music overhead was actually instrumental versions of Christmas carols.
“Oh.” He took a sip of his water and looked out the window.
“Wow. Not a Christmas fan, I take it?” She put her elbows on the table and cradled her chin in her hands.
“I like Christmas.” He shrugged.
She raised her eyebrows. “Could have fooled me. Why don’t you like it?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s all so commercial. I stopped believing in Santa a long time ago.”
“What about your family? Do you go visit them for the holidays?”
“Sometimes. I tend to be busy. We never really did much for Christmas after my younger brother learned the truth about Santa.” He shrugged again. “I’ll visit my brother and my dad after the new year. We're not big on the holiday.”
She nodded. She took in everything about him and he wondered what she was thinking. He felt like she could read him, seeing all the unspoken lost and forgotten Christmases in his past.
“Let me guess, you like Christmas.” He crossed his arms, watching her.
Holly’s green eyes sparkled as she smiled. “I love Christmas. I know it’s cliché, but it really is my favorite time of the year.”
“Because of the presents?”
She shook her head, crinkling her nose. “No, not really. I mean, I love giving presents, and I love when someone makes me something special. My students tend to give me mugs and chocolates. I love those, even though I have more mugs than actual dishes in my house.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her upbeat attitude. “What about your family?”
“It's just me and my dad, but we love Christmas. We throw this big bash for the whole town on Christmas day. My students love it.” She grinned, lost in memory. “My dad buys books and toys for all the local kids and then Dad dresses up like Santa. It’s my favorite part of the holiday to see the kids all light up.”
Her smile faltered slightly, as if something made her sad, but she shook herself and refocused on him. “If you’re ever in Colorado for the holidays, you should come join us.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied, knowing that he probably wouldn’t. Christmas wasn’t his thing. His family never really did much for the holiday other than make him feel guilty. Once he moved out of his father's house, he had started working through the Christmas holiday season. It was better that way.
A small tug of jealousy hit him. Holly looked forward to Christmas. He dreaded it. He wished that he liked it more, but the Hallmark Christmas never happened for him.
It was usually full of people trying to get more money and better presents out of him. Somehow, everyone who became his friend expected expensive gifts since he was a billionaire. Granted, he did give lavish gifts, but the entitlement rubbed him the wrong way.
Plus, Christmas just never appealed to him. It was better to work. Better to earn money than waste it.
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” a waitress said, breaking into his thoughts. “What can I get you?”
“Menus,” Nathan replied. He motioned to their bare table with a forgiving smile.