Billionaire's Holiday (An Alpha Billionaire Christmas Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #17)

by Claire Adams

  "Are you okay? Your eyes are puffy. Were you crying last night?" Concern swept across his face, but it left as quickly as it appeared.

  "No. Went out drinking." I moved to the table and sat down, focusing only on the warmth my coffee provided. "Where's Parker?"

  "He has a gamer day on Sundays with some of the boys from school. I drop him off at eight, and he comes home around six. It's good for him to get out of the house." My father looked up from his cooking and seemed to be analyzing me.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. Just noticing how much you look like a woman. Like your mother."

  "I'm twenty-three, Dad. I grew up while you weren't looking."

  His jaw clenched, and I realized how my words sounded.

  "I didn't mean it like that." I stood up, and he lifted his hand.

  "It's fine. Get your work, and let's talk." He pursed his lips, and I knew the conversation was over.

  I walked to the room with my head hung down, pissed at myself for starting off the morning with him on a bad note. I needed him in a good mood for the discussion we had coming up, and now he was going to be anything but.

  The sketch pad was open on a small circular table beside the bed. I'd been working on something in the wee hours of the morning when I couldn't stop thinking about Finn. I snatched it up and walked back to the kitchen with trepidation rolling over me in great waves.

  "I really don't feel good about this." I sat down and opened the pad.

  "Well, I'm your investor. Rule number one is that you should never tell me that. You put on your game face and sell your designs like I would die without them."

  I smiled and shook my head. "No one's going to die here."

  "Right, but the feeling should be the same, Chloe. No one wants to invest in an artist who sort of thinks her stuff would be good. We want to jump in the boat with someone that reminds us that we're about to miss out on the next great thing." His voice was full of life, and his expression reminded me of the man he used to be.

  "Let me ask you this..." I closed the book and pulled my mug closer to me, using it to warm my hands. "Why did you choose winter attire? It seems so stuffy and uncreative."

  "For that exact reason. I love it up here in the cold and yet, just like you, I can only stand to be outside for a few minutes. My 'why' for creating my line of men and women's ski and snowboard attire was for necessity. Is it the most beautiful design in the world? No. Is it attractive? Yes. Plus, it's fully functional and will keep you warm in an arctic freeze."

  I realized with a start that I had been going about my plan all wrong. It wasn't about designing something that I would wear because it was cute, but coming up with something functional and making it cute.

  "Brilliant." I glanced down at my coffee and smiled. "Dad. That's brilliant."

  "Right? It's why you had your school paid in full. There's money in that way of thinking." He moved toward me and laid a plate of pancakes in front of me. "I know I'm hard on you, but there's a reason for it."

  I wanted to push a little, but I decided to let it alone.

  He sat down beside me and started to eat. "Show me what you have."

  Opening my binder, I pushed it across the table.

  "It's a line of t-shirts that I think would be great sellers on college campuses." I flipped through them slowly, watching his expression remain unchanged.

  He glanced up. "Who are you selling these to?"

  "College kids. I just said that."

  He shook his head and cut into his pancakes. "Did you not take any business classes at UCLA, Chloe? College kids don't have money."

  There was a sick sense of relief that flooded me to see that my father was slipping back into his normal self. If I didn't feel stupid already coming to sit before him, I did now.

  "Some do. Most of us have allowances, Dad."

  "I'm aware of that, but you're limiting yourself. A small percentage of the population are college kids." He pushed the notebook back at me. "I want you to think about designing something for people in colder climates."

  "What? Why? I hate the cold. I'd much rather design something for the beach. If I had my other notebook, I could..."

  He cut me off. "Well, you don't. Eat your breakfast before it gets cold and have some new windbreakers designed for me by later this week. That's your first test to get this very large sum of money you're after. I love you, but I'm not willing to set you up to fail and lose money in this venture at the very same time. That would be stupid as a businessman and as a dad."

  "I hate the cold."

  "Exactly." He tapped my plate with his fork to remind me to eat. "Let that drive you to create the warmest, comfiest light-weight jacket known to man."

  I turned my eyes down and started to eat, hoping that the large syrupy pancakes would shove the thick ball of hate building in my chest back down.

  "I know you don't like my request, but I'm holding the checkbook. Be smart about this. I know you have it in you."

  Him patronizing me only caused my appetite to plummet.

  I stood and picked up my plate, having barely touched my pancakes. I dumped it in the sink, picked up my sketch pad and my coffee, and walked to my room without another word.

  Was it asinine? Absolutely.

  Did I care? Hell no.

  He was a jerk and had been tearing me down for years. I didn't need his money, and I wasn't willing to play his game—at least I didn't think I was.

  * * * *

  I laid around in my room for the next two hours until I thought my head might explode from counting ceiling tiles. Maybe I was being childish, but it was namely due to the fact that I always felt like a child around my father. He made sure of it.

  Grabbing the handle to the door, I pulled hard and stormed down the hall, ready to give him a piece of my mind. I would design the best damn windbreaker ever known to man and would outsell everything in his store ten times over.

  "Dad?" I called out with angst in my voice.

  Nothing.

  I walked out to the garage to find the SUV gone.

  "Great." I walked back into the kitchen to see a short note from him. It was a reminder that people who wanted to win the game were willing to play it.

  I rolled my eyes and hated just how accurate his statement was. There were a few jackets in the hall closet that were his, which would be a good start to my experiment. Designing for functionality was completely different than just letting my mind go. I had to test out what was wrong with the other jackets and move on from there, discerning how to make them better, more effective.

  I tugged on a large gray jacket and zipped it up, moving around and liking the feel of it.

  "Let's see how you do in the cold." I grabbed my notepad and slipped my feet into a pair of furry house shoes by the front door before walking out on the porch and sitting down on the swing at the far end. I hadn't realized there was someone shoveling snow, but seeing him left me feeling badly for him.

  It was far colder than it had been a week back when I arrived. Why would my father have some poor guy working like that in the freezing cold temperatures?

  This guy must really need money.

  I got up and walked back into the warmth of the house to make him something warm to drink. I mixed up a mug of hot chocolate and debated far too long over whether to put marshmallows on the top or not. I changed into a big pink winter coat and zipped it up tight before slipping on mittens and trying to get back out of the house without spilling the hot chocolate.

  Walking quickly down the pathway, I slowed as I approached him and called out, not wanting to scare him and get a shovel to the side of the face.

  "Hi! I just realized you were out here. I figure you might like something to-" I stopped as my breath caught in my chest. "You have to be kidding me."

  Finn.

  His smile was beautiful, but the bright red on his cheeks and over his nose was concerning.

  "That for me?" He nodded toward the mug and laid his shovel down.
<
br />   There was a split second that I visualized myself tossing it on him, but I couldn't do it.

  "No. It's for me." I took a sip and stifled a scream as it burnt my tongue.

  "Oh." His eyes adverted from me and he turned, picking up his shovel and starting to work again. "I'll be done soon. I'll leave the invoice in the mailbox as not to bother you again."

  I let out a long sigh as indecision tore up my insides. "The drink is for you."

  "Just set it on the porch, and I'll come get it in a minute. I'm almost done." He continued to work, ignoring me, which I probably deserved. The sound of him panting softly melted my heart and left me concerned for him. It was too cold to be sweating outside. He shook slightly, and I was sure it was from the freezing cold temperatures.

  "I'll have it waiting inside for you. Just knock, and I'll let you in." I turned and walked back to the house, not wanting to keep him out there much longer. I was angry at him, but it was for selfish reasons. I had pushed Cindy onto him and had no reason to be angry with him for doing what was natural.

  I was the idiot.

  Chapter Twelve

  Finn

  The look on her beautiful face was priceless, but I kept my emotions locked away. She was angry, and I was at fault. She had played a part in it, but ultimately, I'd been a dick. I had gone over my apology at least thirty times by the time she walked out with the hot chocolate.

  Her face was so pretty all snuggled into her jacket and furry hat. She was feminine and petite, yet feisty as hell. I closed my eyes and continued to shovel faster as the remembrance of having my hands on her while we dance filled my mind. She fit against me in a way that made me want to keep her there, pressed to me and in my arms forever.

  I was falling for her in a way that made little to no sense, but I couldn't help it. It wasn't about sex, though some part of me wanted to push it there. It was safe to think that I was physically attracted to her and nothing else. I was beyond attracted to her, but there was so much more bubbling up inside of me.

  The last shovel full of snow was the hardest, but it always was. I finished up and put the shovels up and dusted the snow from my hands and jacket before walking up to the house. I knocked twice on the door and moved back.

  Chloe opened the door, her jacket gone and a pretty cream-colored sweater in its place. Her hair was down and a little messy, which drew me in fast.

  I extended the invoice to her and smiled. "I'll get something to drink at home. Thanks for the thought, though."

  "Did you know this was my house?" She lifted her eyebrow and opened the door a little farther. "And get in here. I'm not letting you drive home without knowing that you've warmed up a little. I hope your dad has good worker's comp insurance. You're lucky you didn't get frostbite out there."

  I chuckled and walked in, working to take my jacket off before leaning over and getting my shoes off. Everything was soaked in sweat, and I started to shiver, which seemed to piss her off even more.

  "Get over here." She tugged at my arm and pulled me toward the fireplace before turning it on. "Let me heat up your drink. Take off your shirt, and I'll throw it in the dryer."

  "This your way to see me half-naked?" I teased her, unable to help myself.

  "I could have done that ten times already, playboy. Do what I told you to do." She disappeared into the kitchen as I worked to get my socks and t-shirt off. My jeans were soaked, too, but I didn't think she would appreciate me being naked in her living room.

  "Do your dad or brother have a pair of sweats I can use?" I called out to her and followed her path into the kitchen, stopping at the edge of it and taking time to simply watch her.

  She turned and let her eyes move across me before turning back toward the microwave and grumbling something.

  "Sorry?" I took a step into the kitchen as she pulled a mug from the microwave and handed it to me.

  "Yes. I'll grab them and you can change in the bathroom."

  "I'm good changing here. It's not like you've never seen a man naked before...right?"

  She put her hand on her hip and closed her eyes. "Don't make this hard on me, or I'll kick you out of here so fast it will make your head spin."

  "Hard on you?" I laughed and moved closer to her. "You went home with my best friend last night and left me with eight drunks."

  She opened her eyes and pushed at my chest, hard. "You wanted to go home with Cindy, and I dropped Brian off at his house. You're crazy if you think anything happened between us."

  "He's a damn idiot if he didn't try." I dropped my clothes and reached out, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward me. "Nothing happened with Cindy. You know why?"

  "Why, Finn? Because of your month off from women?"

  I smiled and released her before walking toward the small room by the kitchen that held the washer and dryer. I slipped out of my pants and tossed everything in the dryer. After finding an oven mitt, I walked back in the kitchen holding it in front of my crotch and laughed at the look she gave me.

  "I didn't do anything with her because she's not you. Go get me some damn pants, or I'm going to resort to other means of warming up." I moved toward her, and she turned, walking back down the hall quickly.

  "Don't touch me. I'm not interested in anything you have to offer." She disappeared into a dark room, and I forced myself not to follow her. Our relationship couldn't be built on sex. It needed a solid friendship. I needed one. Hell, she seemed to as well.

  I moved to the fireplace and moved the mitten, warming my body fully and relaxing as the chill finally began to leave me.

  The sound of her gasp caused me to look over my shoulder. "Like what you see?"

  "It's an ass. Everyone has one." She walked over to me and laid the pants over my shoulder. "I'll wait for you at the table."

  "Thank you," I mumbled and put them on, grateful that someone in her family was tall. Too bad they had SpongeBob and Patrick dancing across them in various motions. "You did this on purpose."

  "I did." She pressed her fingers to her lips and laughed. "You look great, though."

  "Right?" I flexed my pecs and sat down, reaching for the drink. "Thanks for this."

  "Did you know this was my father's place?" She sat back and drew her legs up to her chest.

  I wanted to lie, but couldn't force myself to do it. "I did. I heard Cindy say your last name at the club and realized that my father had a client by the same name. I had to pull a few strings, and it's creepy, I know, but I couldn't not see you again. I shouldn't want to, but I do." I shrugged and lifted the mug to my mouth.

  "You're right. I've done nothing but judge you." She rubbed her fingers over her lips and watched me closely, leaving my need to reach out for her rising by the minute. "Forgive me."

  "Already done." I shrugged. "So, tell me why you were the designated driver last night?"

  "Because I'm a light weight, and alcohol usually leads to horrible decisions for me."

  "Note to self, get her drunk." I winked and set the mug down. "Let me take you on the slopes again?"

  "You don't give up, do you?"

  "Not sure. I've never had to try, honestly." I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a content sigh. Things were going far better than I'd imagined.

  "You've never had to work hard to get a woman's attention." She snorted and dropped her legs down before leaning in. The sweet smell of her perfume rushed in to greet me, and I jerked back to keep myself from accosting her.

  "Nope. I'm not saying I'm all that, Chloe. Just telling you the life I've lived."

  "Why don't you have a girlfriend or a wife then? Surely, one of the women would have meant something to you over all these years." She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "I'm struggling with this a lot."

  "I understand that. I struggle with it, too." I sucked my bottom lip in my mouth, trying to figure out how to explain it to her. "So, the last girl I took out took me back to her place..."

  She cut me off as her hand flew in the air. "Hold u
p. I do not under any circumstances want to hear any of your sex stories."

  "Why? You jealous?" I chuckled, expecting her to swat at me or flip me off.

  "Yes. Actually, I am, and I'm struggling with that, too." She kept my gaze, not at all uncomfortable with admitting that she was feeling something for me.

  Something loosened inside of me, and I relaxed.

  Good. It's not just me.

  "I'm not telling you any of my stories, Chloe. I was just going to explain how ninety-nine percent of women aren't looking for a second date, but just another fuck. I'm just a fuck." I shrugged and glanced outside, not realizing how much it would hurt to say it out loud.

  "What happened with the girl?" Her voice was soft as she moved closer, her knees brushing mine.

  "She invited me back to her place and showed me off in front of her two friends, basically inviting them to join us." I turned my attention back to her.

  "Did they join you?"

  "No. I'm not like that." I shrugged again. "I guess most guys would be, but I can't be with more than one woman at a time. I left after her friend told me that the girl had herpes."

  "Oh my God." She lifted her hand to her face as she visibly paled.

  Probably not the best thing to tell a girl that I wanted to take to bed for the rest of my life, but she needed to understand my side of the story.

  "Right? My fucked up life." I let out a chuckle, but it fell flat.

  "I'm sorry for being so cruel. I'm just not interested in a one-night stand. I just got out of a long relationship and honestly, falling for someone that's not going to be in my life in the future isn't something I'm willing to do."

  "I understand that. I'm not asking you to sleep with me, nor am I offering you a ring."

  "Then what are you asking, Finn?"

  "A friendship? A ski buddy? Do you like horror movies?" I smiled and moved closer. "We can be friends from a distance, right? And when you come back, if you do, we'll hit the slopes again together. I'd love a new friend, someone who didn't prance me around town."

  She shook her head. "I'd like a friendship, but understand that I'm leaving in two weeks. My father is helping me start a clothing line, and that's the only reason I'm in this house."