Christmas with Her Millionaire Boss

by Barbara Wallace

  She couldn’t help herself. Rising on tiptoe, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. He stiffened, but only for a moment before sliding his arms around her waist.

  “I think they’re both idiots,” Noelle whispered in his ear before laying her head on his shoulder. One of James’s hands slid up her back to tangle in her hair.

  They fit together well, thought Noelle.

  Scarily so.

  * * *

  “What was I supposed to do? I mean, the guy’s mother left him behind. On Christmas Eve, no less. I had to offer some kind of solace, didn’t I?”

  The photograph on the nightstand smiled knowingly. Kevin always did know when she was overjustifying. He would listen patiently, and when she finished talking, cock his head and say, “Who you trying to convince, Noelle? Me or you?”

  “Me,” she told the memory and flung herself face-first across the bed. Why else would she be in her bedroom talking to a picture?

  Letting out a long breath, she splayed her fingers across her plaid duvet. The fresh air and snow had taken their toll. Fatigue spread through her body, causing her to sink deeper into the down filling. If she lay here long enough, she’d fall asleep.

  James wouldn’t care. He was locked in his own room, having retreated there as soon as they returned home. His head was bothering him, he claimed.

  Could be true. Embarrassed was more like it though. Who wouldn’t be when one of their new employees suddenly starts clinging to them in the middle of Main Street?

  He’d hugged her back though. With warm, strong arms that made her feel safe all over. “Like the ones you used to give,” she told Kevin.

  Except for the way she’d flooded with awareness.

  There had been a moment, when James slid his arm around her shoulder, that she swore the awareness was mutual. Apparently not. If James had wanted her, she thought, tracing the threading on her comforter, he would have kissed her. He wouldn’t have retreated to his bedroom alone.

  “Sorry,” she said to Kevin. “’S’not like I’m looking to move on or anything. It’s just I haven’t been kissed in a long time—by a man, your mom doesn’t count—and the idea is kind of nice.”

  Especially if the kiss came from a man with a mouth as beautiful as James’s.

  “You had a pretty mouth too, Kev,” she said. Everyone in town used to say his smile was brighter than a Christmas tree. Once, when they were in high school, he’d taken her skiing, and face-planted in the snow getting off the ski lift. His laughter could be heard all over the mountain. God, but she missed that laugh.

  She missed him. The private jokes. The Friday Old-Time Movie Nights.

  “None of this would be a problem if you were here.” She certainly wouldn’t be drawn to her boss-slash-houseguest.

  But, as her eyelids started to close, it was damp cashmere teasing her cheek, not brushed flannel, and the memory of warm arms cradling her close. Kevin’s voice sounded in her ear. Who you trying to convince, Noelle? Me or you?

  * * *

  By all rights, James should have gone straight to bed, risen early and called a taxi to take him to the airport before Noelle was up for breakfast. Steps one and two went according to plan. Step three, on the other hand, had run into some difficulty. Instead of doing his preflight check, he was sitting on Noelle’s leather sofa downing coffee number two and staring at her mantel.

  She’d hugged him.

  Flirting, kissing, sexual aggression, those he could handle. If Noelle had thrown herself at him, he would have gladly reciprocated, and the two of them would be waking up in tangled sheets.

  But a hug? Hugs were tender. Caring. They reached into vulnerable parts of you and offered compassion. How was he supposed to respond?

  He’d hugged her back, that’s how. Hugged her and took the comfort she was offering.

  And when she put her head on his shoulder, it was like all the air had suddenly rushed to his throat. He’d nearly choked on the fullness. The last time anyone had bothered to comfort him was...

  He couldn’t remember. Certainly long before his mother left. God knows, she’d checked out on him long before that. His father even earlier. Was it any wonder he couldn’t take the moment further?

  Or were you afraid she’d say no?

  The thought made his shoulders stiffen. Rejection had never been an issue before. Then again, a woman had never hugged him before either, or left him feeling so...so exposed. That made him want her even more, and he didn’t mean sexually. He wanted to make her smile. Her eyes light up like a Christmas tree. To give her a dose of that magic she believed in so strongly.

  Dear God. His mouth froze against his mug. He sounded like a sappy teenager. Could it be he was falling for Noelle?

  “It can’t be,” he said.

  “Can’t be what?”

  Noelle stood on the stairway in her Wisconsin sweatshirt and a pair of flannel sleep pants. Baggy plaid pants that obliterated her curves. He hated them.

  “James? Everything okay?”

  He blinked. “I was looking at your pajamas. They’re very...” He sought for a decent adjective. “Plaid.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, padding down the last couple steps. Barefoot, James noted. “I wasn’t expecting you to be awake this early,” she continued. “And you’re dressed.”

  “You sound surprised. I didn’t think you’d want me wandering around your kitchen in my briefs.”

  “Now that would have been a surprise. Is everything okay?”

  “Huh?” James missed the question. He was too busy studying her bare feet. They were runner’s feet—no painted toes for her—and to his horror he found them as attractive as the rest of her.

  “I asked if you were feeling all right,” she repeated.

  “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Well, you didn’t look good last night when you booked it to bed. I was worried you overdid it and made your headache return.”

  Dammit. Did she have to ask with concern increasing the vibrant blue of her eyes? It made his chest squeeze again, like yesterday.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “No headache. I got up to check the forecast.”

  “Oh.” Was that disappointment darkening her eyes? “And what did you find out?”

  “Actually...” He’d been too busy arguing with himself to look at his phone. It lay dormant on the coffee table.

  “Is there coffee left?” Noelle asked.

  He nodded, embarrassingly relieved that he didn’t have to look quite yet. “I made a whole pot.”

  “Great. I’m going to grab a cup. Give me yours and I’ll get you a refill.” She held out her hand and waited while he finished the last swallow. “You can tell me about the weather when I get back.”

  Okay, the pajama bottoms weren’t so bad after all, James decided as he watched her walk to the kitchen. Although, he would much prefer her bare legged.

  The woman was definitely under his skin, big time.

  Leaning forward, he picked up the phone and pressed the weather app. As the radar loaded on his screen, he saw it was clear all the way to the coast. No excuse against flying home.

  Fantastic, he thought, shoulders feeling heavy.

  What a difference a few days made. Two days ago he couldn’t wait to get out of the place. Now here he was dragging his feet.

  Again.

  “So, what’s the verdict?” Noelle asked as she came around the corner.

  Handing him one of the mugs, she took a seat in the opposite corner and waited.

  “Smooth sailing,” he replied. “Not a snowflake in sight. I’m back to thinking you had a hidden snow machine yesterday for ambience.”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me if Ned considered it,” she replied. “I know at one point he was l
ooking for a way to make snow in July.”

  “Did he?”

  “Apparently years ago he used soap flakes, but they got in the water and caused all sorts of problems. After that, Belinda put the kibosh on summer snow plans.”

  “Good thinking.” He was beginning to think Ned Fryberg had been more than a little on the eccentric side. Envy twisted in his stomach. “Must have been fun, hanging out at their house as a kid.”

  “More like insane,” she replied with a grin. “Ned was forever coming up with ideas. And they weren’t all for the store. He went crazy at home too. You should have seen the to-do he made over Halloween. One year, he turned their living room into a haunted tableau. Kevin and his mom played haunted mannequins.” James tried to picture the scene in his head. “What were you?” he asked.

  “A flying monkey. Ned thought scary mannequins should be bigger than the fifth graders.”

  “I’m afraid he had a point there.” Turning sideways, James rested his elbow on the back of the sofa, and propped his head with his hand. “I bet you made an adorable flying monkey.”

  “Scary! I was supposed to be scary!”

  “Were you?” He waited while she sipped her coffee, noting her cheeks had grown the tiniest bit pink.

  “No,” she replied. Leaning in, she set the mug on the coffee table. The action brought along the orange blossom scent James had come to associate only with her. He breathed in deep through his nostrils. “I’m not surprised,” he said once she’d left his senses. “I can’t picture you as anything but adorable.”

  “Explains why we decided to decorate only outside the following year,” she said, the blush James had been trying to deepen coming through. “Anyway, Ned was always coming up with something different. The neighborhood kids loved coming to the house to get candy.”

  “They sound like a fun family,” he said. A true Rockwell painting. “My parents had the housekeeper pass out the candy.” Bags of Hammond’s brand goodies assembled by employees and doled out from a silver tray.

  A hand suddenly covered his. Noelle’s eyes were incandescent with unreadable emotion. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to send us down that road again,” she said.

  “Road?”

  “You know, our collective lousy childhoods.”

  James knew. But he wanted to hear how she framed the conversation.

  “Bad enough we opened up all those wounds last night.” She paused, reached for her coffee then changed her mind and pulled back. “I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable when I hugged you.”

  A loaded question. Depended upon her definition of uncomfortable.

  “No,” he lied. “Not at all.”

  “Good.” He could hear her relief. “Because the moment seemed to call for one, you know? I didn’t mean to overreach.”

  “You didn’t,” he told her. You were the first person I’d ever shared my childhood with.

  Her eyes widened, and for a brief second, James wondered if he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. “So, you didn’t go to bed early because you were avoiding me?”

  Yes, I did. “Don’t be silly. I had work to do, and I was tired.”

  “That’s a relief. I... That is, we were...” A frown marred her features as she stared at their joined hands. “I wanted yesterday to jumpstart your Christmas spirit, not make things all awkward between us.”

  “They didn’t make anything awkward,” he told her. “As for the hug...it was nice. I liked it.”

  Soon as the words were out, his insides relaxed with a vengeance, as if they’d been gripped by tension for weeks, not a few days. He played with the fingers holding his. “I enjoyed spending time with you,” he added.

  “Me too,” she said softly. “Even if we did get off on the wrong foot.”

  “More like wrong feet,” James said, smiling. He took a good long look at her.

  With one leg tucked under her body, she looked small and delicate against the dark leather. Only she wasn’t delicate, was she? She was as resilient a person as he’d ever known. Strong, smart, loyal, gorgeous. A rare package.

  Suddenly it struck him. Why he couldn’t leave.

  “What are you doing tonight?” he asked her.

  As he suspected, her eyes got wide again. “Nothing. Why?”

  “Because,” he said, “I’d like to take you to dinner.” And he knew the perfect place too.

  “Dinner? You mean, like on a date?” From the look on her face, the question caught her by surprise. A good surprise, he hoped.

  “Exactly like a date. Two minutes ago, we both said we enjoyed each other’s company. I don’t know about you...” Lifting his hand, he risked brushing the hair from her face. “But I’d like to continue enjoying it a little longer.”

  * * *

  Wow. Noelle didn’t know what to say. She’d gone to bed last night convinced she’d embarrassed both of them by hugging him, that this morning he would be flying back to Boston as soon as possible. Instead, he was asking her out.

  “But you’re my boss,” she blurted out. “Isn’t that against some kind of rule?”

  James chuckled. Noelle hated when he chuckled because the rumbling sound tripped through her every time. “I promise, where we’re going, we won’t run into a single coworker.”

  “Is that so?” Goodness, when did her voice grow husky? She sounded breathless.

  “Absolutely. What do you say? Spend a few more hours with me? We can call it a thank-you for taking me in during my time of need.”

  His fingers were brushing her cheek again. Feathery light touches that made her mouth dry and turned her insides warm and liquid. Who exactly was supposed to be thanking whom in this proposal?

  “All right,” she said, fighting to keep from closing her eyes and purring. His touch felt that good. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

  “Fantastic. You have my word you won’t regret a single second. This is going to make your Christmas Kickoff look like a roadside yard sale.”

  She laughed. Good to know his audacity was alive and well. “I’ll have you know I happen to like yard sales.”

  “You’ll like this better. Now...” To her dismay, he took both his touch and the hand beneath hers away. “Why don’t you go get dressed while I make the arrangements? If we hurry, we’ll have time to walk around before the show.”

  Show? There weren’t any shows going on in Fryberg. The closest performances she knew of were at least a two hours’ drive away.

  “Are we going to Chicago?” she asked.

  James was on his feet and taking her coffee cup. A man in command. “Not Chicago. I’m taking you to Radio City Music Hall.”

  “Radio what?” She’d heard wrong. “Isn’t that in New York City?”

  “Yes, it is,” he replied. “Which is why you’d better hurry and get dressed.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SIX HOURS LATER found Noelle sitting in the back of an airport town car on her way to Manhattan, and wondering when—or if—her head would stop spinning. New York City for dinner? That was the sort of thing they did in movies. Yet there was the Empire State Building on the skyline ahead. And the Statue of Liberty alone on her island.

  James’s hand brushed her knee. “You haven’t said much since we left the airfield. Everything okay?”

  “I can’t believe I’m actually in New York City for dinner” was all she could manage to say. “It’s...”

  “Amazing?”

  “Yes. And overwhelming. When you said dinner, I never dreamed you meant—is that the Freedom Tower?” She pointed to a gigantic building with a large antenna, on top of which waved an American flag. She’d seen pictures of the structure built to replace the Twin Towers, but they were nothing compared to the real thing. “It’s huge. Even from this far away.”

 
; “That was the idea,” he replied before shifting a little closer. “To make a statement to the rest of the world about our resilience.”

  “They won’t keep New York down.”

  “Precisely. New York Strong, as we’d say in Boston,” he replied. He shifted again and unbuttoned the top of his coat. Noelle caught a glimpse of pearl gray. Before leaving Fryberg, they’d stopped at the boutique so he could purchase another set of clothes, the plaid, he’d said, having worn out its welcome. The soft color was a toned-down version of the executive she’d met three days ago. That man, she thought with a smile, would never have flown her to New York.

  His hand slid along hers, breaking her train of thought. “Would you like to see it up close?” he asked.

  “Careful how often you ask the question. I want to see everything up close.”

  Now that she’d accepted the ginormousness of where they were, excitement was quickly replacing disbelief. “I’ve always dreamed of going to New York ever since I was a little girl, but never got the chance.”

  “Never?”

  “I almost went. Once. Right after Kevin and I got engaged. There was a merchandising conference I thought of attending.”

  “What happened?”

  “The conference conflicted with an awards banquet Kevin had to attend. People expected me to be there too, so I cancelled. I could always go to Manhattan another time. Wasn’t like the city was going to go anywhere.”

  “At least not last time I looked,” James replied. “And now you’re here.”

  “Now I’m here.” She sat back against the leather seat and watched the traffic. Despite being the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday, the streets were lined bumper to bumper, with more cars than ten Fryberg Christmas Kickoffs. Everywhere she looked, buildings reached toward the sky. Big, square buildings jammed with people. She could feel the city’s energy pulsing through the limousine’s windows. It was fantastical.

  Next to her, James was watching the window as well, his long fingers tapping on the armrest. He looked quite at home with the traffic passing by them. Same way he’d looked at home in the cockpit of his plane. Noelle had watched him the entire flight, his deftness at the controls far more interesting than the ground below. Surely he knew how gracefully he moved. If he didn’t, the universe really should hold up a mirror for him to see.