Christmas in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 1) Read Online Free

dining area. The Formica-topped tables and yellow vinyl chairs were acceptable in the short-term. Likewise, the gray-tiled floor might be scarred from years of wear but would do until he found time to get hardwood down.
    But it was the wallpaper, a hideous coffeepot pattern in harvest gold and mud brown, that had to go. He’d wished there had been time to remodel. But Independence Day had loomed, and holidays in Good Hope meant lots and lots of tourists spending boatloads of money.
    Beck had settled for having a crew come in and remove the wallpaper. Since he hadn’t yet decided what he wanted to do with the interior, he’d had the walls painted white. The neutral color ended up being the perfect backdrop for Izzie’s blue “rain” splatter.
    The accountant returned to the counter where Beck stood. His friend reminded him of a bloodhound that had just caught a scent when he sidled up to the jar holding round, chocolate-covered mints. A popular item, they sold for ten cents each or three for twenty-five cents.
    Max unwrapped one of the shiny silver wrappers and popped a mint into his mouth. “You’re making progress, but you’ve still got work ahead of you.”
    “I like to keep busy.” Beck had discovered that being exhausted helped him to sleep and not think. “Is there something else I can do for you, Max?”
    Beck didn’t mean to be abrupt, but talk of the holidays had given him a headache. All he wanted was to take a couple of ibuprofen and head home.
    Apparently finding the first one to his liking, Max grabbed a couple more mints. “I hear you refused to allow your house in the tour.”
    “Is that what the Good Hope Gazette is reporting?” Beck said with obvious disdain, referring to the town’s weekly paper. Hearing that news was already making the rounds didn’t surprise him. It hadn’t taken him long to discover there was no privacy in a small community.
    “Actually, I read it in the Open Door .”
    Beck gave a derisive snort. He’d only opened the daily online newsletter once. The gossip feature had turned him off and he hadn’t looked at it since. “Tabloid rag.”
    Max inclined his head. “Is the news accurate?”
    “It is.” Beck finished closing out the cash register and added the money bag to his briefcase.
    The day had started off okay with a red velvet doughnut and coffee for breakfast. It had been all downhill from there.
    When Eliza Shaw had approached him, he’d been polite but firm. Finally, when she became a yappy dog that wouldn’t shut up, he’d shown her to the door. “I can’t see having a bunch of people I don’t know traipsing through my house.”
    Though some might say his house was too big for one man, the place was slowly beginning to feel like home. It had become Beck’s sanctuary, the one place in Good Hope where he could fully relax.
    Max shoved his hands into his pockets, for the first time looking uncomfortable. “The thing is, it’s—”
    “Stop right there.” Beck cut him off before he could finish. “Be warned, if you say the word ‘tradition,’ I may have to punch you.”
    “Then I guess I’ll have to appeal to your mercenary side.” Max grinned, not at all intimidated by the scowl or the growl. “The home tour is a big moneymaker for the community. It’ll bring in business to the café and all the merchants.”
    “I venture that people will still come to Good Hope for the tour, even if my house isn’t open.”
    “Probably,” Max reluctantly acknowledged. “But it’s tra—” Catching himself, the accountant stopped, changed direction. “Where’s your community spirit? All I’m asking is that you consider participating. Come on, I know there’s a heart under that scrooge exterior.”
    “Oh, so now I’m a scrooge?” Beck lifted a brow. “You seem to be forgetting who gave who a tax bill for Christmas?”
    Max’s expression turned sheepish.
    Just like he used to when he’d been a defense attorney, Beck drove the point home.