Holiday Man (16 page)

The ground seemed to drop from beneath Bram’s feet and the air whooshed out of his lungs. He opened his mouth to speak but was unable to utter a syllable.

Shannon was already standing by the door. “I need to go, but I’ll be back. We’ll talk later, okay?” she promised.

He thought he nodded at her, but he was in such shock that he couldn’t be sure.

When she left, he carefully set the gorgeous, colorful vase back inside the safety of its box so it wouldn’t break, but he didn’t have any similar protective measures for his heart.

He could almost hear it shattering inside his chest.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

New Year’s

The week that followed was a special kind of torture for Bram.

Despite the post-Christmas/pre-New Year’s Eve festivities taking place at the in and around the scenic Door County peninsula, he couldn’t have felt less like celebrating.

He was losing her. Not to another man—although Jake was certainly putting up a persuasive fight—but to an
idea
. To her conviction that the grass was always greener somewhere else and that it was greenest of all halfway around the world.

Case in point, Bram walked into Shannon’s office the day after Christmas only to find The Prick already there. From what Bram gathered, based on the gift bags and wrapping paper lying about, the two of them had exchanged presents. An intense jealousy shot through Bram’s body, strong enough to almost paralyze him.

Cagey Jake didn’t reveal what Shannon had given him (he stuffed whatever gift it was back into its bag the second he spotted Bram), but Bram did see what Jake gave her: a thick travel guidebook entitled “The Marvels of the Mediterranean.” Shannon was flipping through it and staring at the images like a teen boy might look at a particularly descriptive page from the
Kama Sutra
.

Bram scowled. “Thinking of taking a trip?”

Shannon responded with a laugh. “Who wouldn’t? Just look at these pictures of Mykonos.” She pointed to several alluring shots of the famed Greek isle before
oohing
and
ahhing
over some resort town on the coast of Turkey.

Jake looked too smug for his own good. What did her jerk of an assistant even
know
about foreign travel? What a poser. If The Prick was involved, it would be more like “Mediterranean Misadventures” than
marvels
of any kind.

Jake didn’t bother speaking to him. The assistant just gave him one of those
smirky
looks, edged with a sense of triumph. Then he said cryptically to Shannon, “Just think about what I said, okay?”

She glanced up from the book and nodded. They did some kind of eye-contact thing before The Prick finally strode out of the room.

Bram wanted to say,
What
the hell was that about?
But he knew he didn’t have the right. If Shannon wanted to explain, she would. He didn’t want her claiming that he was jealous or didn’t trust her.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Is that where you’re headed next? The Mediterranean?”

She’d told him the day before that she was leaving the inn. When they talked at length last night, she confessed that the only thing she knew for sure was that she was moving out of Wisconsin, but she still didn’t know where in the big wide world she was going yet.

Bram’s head had been spinning as she spoke, but he remembered her saying something about that Margaret Ashland woman, who was her boss and her friend, as well as the owner of a hotel chain that spanned the globe. And that, after Shannon had a chance to see some of her dream destinations, Margaret would give her a position at whichever Ashland Hotel she wanted. There was no reason why Shannon couldn’t live anywhere in the world that she damn well pleased.

Shannon closed the guidebook thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” she said, in answer to his question. “Maybe, I’ll go there. It’s sure beautiful.”

He nodded. He wouldn’t deny it. And, hell, he would’ve offered to take her there himself and show her the sites
the
right
way
, but then she’d probably think he was only doing it to show up Jake. Which, admittedly, would have been at least partly true.

Instead, he said, “Do you have time for that walk we were going to take?”

“I could slip away for a half hour or so. Let me just get my coat.”

When they were outside—the late December chill
ziplining
through Bram’s thick leather jacket and heading deep into his bones—he finally reached for her hand. His glove grasped her mitten and held tight. To him, this felt as intimate as anything they’d done while naked in the Astaire Suite. The two of them were connected. Bonded together. A unified front as they faced the winter wonderland.

For the longest time, they didn’t speak.

“I owe you an apology for Halloween,” she said, squeezing his fingers a bit tighter. “Because I was reacting to the things you were saying and doing as if you knew everything I’d been secretly thinking about and struggling against. And you didn’t know. You couldn’t have known. I realize that now.”

He was afraid to speak, but he mumbled a barely audible, “Mm-hmm.”

It was enough to get her to continue. “I spent a lot of time thinking about it, though, and I can see now that what happened was really simple—we both wanted to experience what we didn’t have. You’d already traveled the world, so you craved being in a place that was calm and remote. Somewhere quaint and in the middle of nowhere, like Holiday Quinn, right?”

She smiled kindly at him and, somehow, he managed to nod. She was, in fact, one-hundred percent right. Holiday Quinn was like an oasis of peace from the normal chaos of his life.

“But, see, for me, Bram, quaint, calm and remote is all I’ve ever known. And I really want…really
need
something else right now. Some of those amazing foreign adventures you always speak so casually about having experienced. The day has finally come when I have both the time and the money to be able to do a little of that.”

“The grass is always greener, huh?” he murmured, saying aloud what he’d been thinking for the past twenty-four hours.

“Maybe,” she replied. “But, for once, I’d like to go to a place with no grass at all. Just ancient stones. Or miles of concrete. Or tropical sand as far as the eye can see.”

Her wistfulness made him smile in spite of the sense of loss he felt.

“Then you really
should
go.” He paused. “But there’s nothing wrong with having a home base. Shannon, I love you. And you said you loved me, too. Is there any reason we can’t still see each other when you’re back in the Midwest? You’re not going to be away indefinitely, are you?”

“The thing is, I just don’t know that. I care about you too much to want you to have to put your life or plans on hold for me… And, maybe, for you, being able to relax at the inn is what you
really
want. Think about it, Bram. You may have just connected those feelings of happiness and peacefulness to
me
because I was always here, but I know the Bakers will do a wonderful job continuing all of the traditions. And Margaret’s going to help them. Even if I weren’t here, there’s a whole lot you might still love about Holiday Quinn and this little corner of the state.”

She hesitated, as if mentally weighing her words, before she finally continued. “To be honest, I’m not sure how long we’d stay together in a different environment. How interesting I’d be to you on some average weekday when you’re caught up in your job and your responsibilities back at home. Our time together has always been vacation time for you.”

He took a steadying breath and, because he wanted to do her the honor of seriously considering her thoughts on the subject, he refrained from answering right away, although he desperately wanted to contradict her.

To himself, he acknowledged that, yes, he
did
love being with Shannon in the calm, carefree environment of Holiday Quinn best of all.

But he could also imagine spending time with her elsewhere—like in Minneapolis. The mental image of the two of them living together day after day, and the thought of having her to come home to after the long hours at work, brought a sense of longing he couldn’t deny.

Did
she
not feel similarly, though? Was she simply not ready for that yet? Perhaps that was the real problem.

“I don’t think there’s any way to know that until we try it, Shannon.” Bram wasn’t able to suppress a sigh that fought its way out of him. “But I respect your need to travel the world and see new things. I know that’s important to you. If you get back someday and want to look me up…”

He didn’t finish that sentence, though, because she had tears in her eyes, and he realized, whether she’d gotten at the heart of things or not, she was hurting and struggling. For him to argue with her or try to convince her to stay with him would only add to the turmoil of her emotions and the difficulty of her decision. So he backed off.

They parted soon after that, if only for the afternoon. Shannon went inside the inn to oversee some paper-snowflake-making competition or something, while Bram found himself unable to stop walking outside, despite the frigid temps.

He ambled down the lengthy drive and along several back roads—for how long, he wasn’t sure—but he tried to imagine coming to Holiday Quinn without Shannon being there. It would still be peaceful and a beautiful getaway, sure, but would he
care?
Weren’t there other quaint and quiet resorts a
helluva
lot closer to him?

Honestly, without Shannon greeting him at the inn when he came to Door County, or maybe sitting beside him in the car as he drove up, he knew he’d never come back. It would be too painful. She was
the reason
he made the trip. She might not ever believe that, but it was the truth.

As for spending time with her outside of their holidays at the inn, he sincerely didn’t know what it’d be like. They’d only had that one weekend in Madison to base the experience on, and it hadn’t been as smooth or as successful as he would have liked. But, if she wasn’t willing to try something like that again, what could he do?

He wandered around in the wintry briskness for hours. But even though his arms swung freely by his sides as he trampled down the snow-covered streets, he couldn’t help but feel as if his hands were firmly tied behind his back.

***

Shannon could tell that the news she’d shared with Bram was tough for him to take. To his credit, though, he was being extremely mature about it and was handling the changes better than she’d expected. She knew there was still tension between him and Jake—enough that she hadn’t even considered telling him about Jake’s “big idea” yet—but Bram didn’t criticize her assistant. At least not to Shannon’s face.

Oddly, though, the fight seemed to have drained out of him. He wasn’t acting competitive or proprietary with her. He wasn’t rushing to make any unrealistic promises or grand romantic gestures. Bram was just respecting her wishes and seeming to enjoy this last bit of time they had together before she left Holiday Quinn and the patterns of their relationship inevitably changed.

Which was what she’d wanted from him, wasn’t it? To no longer be angry with each other but, also, for her to finally have the freedom to travel and reboot her life?

Well, he was giving that to her without a single battle but, it turned out, that wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted after all.

She’d hoped, perhaps, that he’d insist on traveling somewhere exotic with her. That he’d want to share in her adventures—not just give her his blessing in seeking them out. That he might chase her a little…and not merely tell her to “look him up” if she ever came back.

Foolish and childish of her, she knew.

But, just because she realized her desires were a bit irrational and contradictory, it didn’t mean they weren’t genuine. She’d never had the opportunity to make any such life-changing choices before. She supposed she had a lot yet to learn about herself.

Jake, however, was living up to her fantasy-boyfriend role with startling intensity.

Of course, he had some freedom from career responsibilities that Bram did not, since Jake was taking a three-month leave of absence from both the inn and his music-store job—starting in mid-January—to backpack through Europe and the Middle East. He’d urged her repeatedly to join him for as much of it as she was willing to share, particularly once the transition of the inn to the Bakers was completed on February first.

“So, imagine this,” he told her. “We could meet in Madrid. Make a circular loop around Spain, including Seville, the Costa del Sol, Toledo, Barcelona and a little excursion to Majorca. Then, we’ll go by
Eurail
through the French Riviera into Italy and take in the sites there—Venice, Florence and Rome for sure. Skip down to Palermo, Sicily for a cruise that’ll take us to Athens, the Greek Isles and various stops in Turkey, Egypt and the Holy Land…”

He painted an incredibly tempting picture and made her feel as if she could almost see herself there. That they could explore these fascinating and foreign regions together like kids on a field trip.

Then again, there were a few locations that could be at least as dangerous as they were intriguing. Did she know enough to wander around cities like Cairo or Jerusalem without getting herself into trouble? Jake was a very bright guy, but
he’d
never been to any of these places either. How would he know what to do to keep them safe?

Margaret Ashland had said she thought Jake’s feelings for her were real. If that was actually true, had Shannon been unknowingly leading him on? Encouraging him to create a dream vacation he knew she’d love? Or, perhaps, could it be he was the right man for her after all?

She sighed.
No.

As convenient as that might have been, her heart disagreed. It was
Bram
she’d unwittingly fallen in love with…but, unfortunately, despite his professions of love, he didn’t seem to want her nearly as much as she’d hoped.