The Billionaire's Christmas Proposal (Billionaire For Christmas #2)

by Victoria James

  He grabbed her hand in his, because despite everything he couldn’t not touch her anymore. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she walked with him in silence. Their boots crunched against the hard packed earth. He held open the door for her, the aroma of freshly baked pastries slamming into them.

  “Oh my God, this place gets better and better,” Allie said, squealing. She clutched his arm and squeezed. “Come this way.” She yanked him by the hand into the bakery. A massive display of every kind of imaginable dessert was showcased behind the glass. “I don’t even know what to get.”

  “I think the Christmas trees are outside.”

  She shot him a look. “First we need coffee and something from the display. Gingerbread men…or look at those muffins…or those cookies. Cookies. I’m getting two cookies. Do you know what you want?” She turned to look up at him, and he had to stifle his grin. She looked like a kid.

  They walked up to the cash register and Allie ordered two snowflake cookies and a coffee.

  “I’ll have a coffee, too,” he said to the cashier and gave her the appropriate bills.

  Allie frowned at him when the cashier went to retrieve their order. “Why aren’t you getting anything?”

  He shrugged. “I just feel like a coffee.”

  He grabbed their coffees and she took her bag of cookies. “Let’s sit over there,” he said, pointing to a table by the window. It overlooked the fields behind the barn.

  Her bag crinkled as she pulled out a white cookie and then glared at him before taking a bite. “I thought you loved cookies. Hannah dubbed you the Cookie Monster of Christmas.”

  He smiled and leaned back in his chair. He knew Jackson’s wife had given him that name after he’d inhaled dozens of her homemade cookies one Christmas. Allie closed her eyes and moaned. Holy hell. She was crunching on that cookie like it was a sexual experience. He shifted in his chair and took a sip of coffee, burning himself on the black liquid.

  “I feel bad eating if you’re not.”

  He shrugged. “Why? Eat. Enjoy.”

  She finished inhaling one and was eyeing the other one in the bag. After a minute, she closed the bag with a sigh and took a sip of coffee.

  “Seriously, Allie, if you want the other one eat it.”

  “No, no. It’s okay. Why don’t I save it for you on the drive back?”

  “I’m not going to eat it.”

  “I never realized you were so anal about your weight.”

  “It doesn’t have to do with weight.”

  “Dani thinks your smoothies are diet shakes.”

  He sighed and drank more coffee. “I don’t have body issues. I just don’t eat sugar until December. Then I eat it nonstop until January first.”

  “Why?”

  “Self-discipline.”

  Now her eyes narrowed into slits. “Implying I have none?”

  He coughed. What the hell had he gotten himself into? “No. I read a bunch of studies on sugar and decided to give it up for most of the year.”

  She stuffed her cookie bag into her purse and crossed one leg over the other, swinging it in some weird rigid motion. She was pissed at him, or embarrassed maybe. “I think we should hurry up and find a tree. I heard the weather forecast, and they’re calling for snow later on.” She stood abruptly, almost knocking over their coffees as she swung her purse over her shoulder.

  He steadied them and picked them up as he stood.

  “Thank you,” she said, pursing her lips and taking hers.

  “Allie,” he groaned, walking beside her. They exited the bakery and walked out into the fresh, cold air. The sky was gray and heavy, the air damp, and it felt like snow was coming.

  She didn’t say a word as they walked to the area that had rows and rows of Christmas trees. The ground beneath them was cold and bumpy, but Allie marched on until they were farther and farther from the main barn. She zigzagged through the trees and all the while mumbled and grumbled. “So I think we need something kind of like this,” she said, stopping abruptly by a short, somewhat thin tree.

  He made a face. “Not big enough. Too Charlie Brown. Let’s go over there.” He pointed to where it looked like the largest trees were displayed.

  He heard Allie grumble something as he led the way. Snow started falling, and he had to admit the place would look pretty damn magical if he were one to think of magic and Christmas trees. He wasn’t. She shoved him out of the way and ran past him to the largest tree in the bunch. She stood triumphantly beside it like she had won some kind of contest. She was pretty damn cute. The tip of her nose was pink, as were her cheeks. She was wearing a pale blue hat with white snowflakes and a navy coat. He wanted to haul her up to him and kiss her, but he had to remember he couldn’t have anything with Allie other than friendship—and even that was soon to be doubtful if he didn’t find a way to save her shelter.

  “This is it, the perfect tree.”

  He forced his gaze from her to take in the tree. “Are you sure that’s going to fit in the room?”

  She frowned and assessed the tree, one hand on her hip. “Yup, totally. If you think you can manage it.”

  “Me? Of course. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  She smiled smugly. “Perfect. We should probably go find out how much this costs.”

  “I’ll cover it.”

  “We have enough in the budget.”

  “Take it and spend it on something else.”

  She gave him a gorgeous smile, and he grinned in return. Like a sap. He was turning into Jackson. He was smiling whenever he was around Allie. “The kids will love this.”

  And her, too. He wanted her to love it, too. Ah, hell, how were all these crazy thoughts creeping in? Last night had ruined him. He never should have kissed her.

  “I’ve never had a real tree before. It smells so good.” She stuck her head between a couple of branches before yelping. “Kind of prickly.”

  He walked over, tossing his empty coffee cup in a nearby bin. “Real trees look the best, smell the best, and don’t compare to fake.”

  She took a sip of coffee before looking up at him. “So you had real trees growing up?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, a few.”

  “Oh, wow. Like in different rooms?”

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. They were decorated according to the room they were in.”

  “That must have been a lot of work for your family.”

  He stared at her for a moment before answering. “We didn’t do it ourselves. The decorators did it every year.”

  “Oh.”

  “What about you?”

  She looked up at the tree again, turning from him. “No tree usually.”

  “I wonder what’s more pathetic. No tree or a bunch of trees that no one really appreciated.”

  She shot him a glance. “That’s a tough call. I bought a fake tree for Dani the first year she came to live with me. I thought it would cheer her up.”

  “Did it?”

  She nodded. “Yup, a bit. I know she was happy that she was living with me, but I think at that age it’s still hard to leave a parent, no matter how negligent they were.”

  He looked down at the ground for a moment. “How is your mom doing?”

  She took off a glove and ran her bare fingers across a few branches. “The same. She’s one of those people who just can’t get it together, you know? She’s not a bad person, but she probably shouldn’t have had kids.” She said the last part softly and it made him think about things he wasn’t used to. She made him feel things he wasn’t used to. Allie brought out this soft side of him, the side that he could never show his family. Here, with her, it made him think that maybe he had what she needed. White snow clung to her brown hair, and her admission hung in the air.

  Hell, he wanted to identify with her. He wanted to tell her about himself, but he hadn’t talked about those days in years. He didn’t like being soft or reminded of a time when he was so weak and at the mercy of others. But the look
in her eyes when they’d been in his office still haunted him. She’d be a woman he could tell his secrets to. In her own way she’d understand him. If he ever let someone in it would be Allie. It wasn’t only his secrets, his past. He wanted to know about hers. He wished he could be the guy to make it all better, to make promises.

  She walked away from him for a moment and dropped her coffee cup into the bin and then joined him again. “What about your parents? You do anything special for Christmas?”

  He shrugged. “We meet for brunch Christmas morning.”

  “Oh…that sounds…nice.”

  He grinned. “It’s hell, actually. My brother sits there trying to impress our father, my brother’s wife or girlfriend of the day spends the entire time admiring whatever piece of jewelry his secretary bought her, and we all open gifts that none of us even picked out ourselves.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “What do you mean?”

  “Ann, my assistant, buys a present for my father, mother, and brother.”

  “Ethan!”

  He laughed. “It’s a family tradition. Hand over a credit card and you’re done.”

  “That’s kind of sad.”

  “We’re not a close family.”

  She put her glove back on, not looking at him. “Funny, I always thought you came from this great family. Sometimes it’s so easy to assume that when you have money things are so much better.”

  “Well, we don’t have to worry about food or where to live, so in that respect it’s better.”

  “Did you ever imagine yourself with your own family? Having your own traditions?”

  He took a step closer to her and then stopped himself. What the hell was he doing? No, he didn’t think of his own family. He didn’t think of kids. But he thought of her. And maybe in some crazy place inside, where he let himself imagine such things, he’d think of Allie being his wife. A mother. She was staring at him, her gaze locked on his. Even he wasn’t immune to the moment, the scent of cedar enveloping them, the gentle snowfall, the fresh country air. Damn, what was happening to him?

  She must have assumed he wasn’t going to say a thing because she started speaking. “I never thought of that kind of stuff. You know that crap line that little girls sit there imagining their wedding? Not me. I had bigger stuff to worry about. But when Hannah and Jackson got married…that little church in the country…”

  Her voice trailed off and she looked beyond him, a slight sheen in her eyes.

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse. “Those two make it look easy.”

  She looked down at her boots. “He’s a good guy.”

  Hell. Jackson was a good guy, but it still made him feel jealous, because he wanted to be one of those good guys. He wanted Allie. He wanted for the first time in his life to have a meaningful relationship. He wanted a woman for more than a night. Not any woman, Allie. Only Allie.

  He nodded. “He is.” He walked over to where she was, telling himself he was just going to brush the snow off her hair, because they couldn’t be anything more. He wasn’t good enough for her, and he would hurt her. But that didn’t stop him from walking over to her.

  “Allie, is that you?”

  He whipped his head around as some lumberjack type guy came running over. Allie let out some kind of squeal and ran—jumped—into the guy’s waiting arms. Mr. Blueberry. Ethan stood there as jealousy beat through his body in a mocking rhythm. What he wanted to do was walk over and rip that man’s hands off Allie. He checked a temper he wasn’t aware he had and mentally counted down.

  “It’s so great to see you, Sam,” Allie said in that sweet voice of hers.

  He smiled down at her with what Ethan thought were very dopey looking eyes. He would assume that some women would find his outdoorsy looks appealing. “Great to see you, too, honey.”

  Time to insert himself. It was the honey endearment. When he stepped next to Allie and grabbed her hand, she looked up at him. The shocked look in her eyes was either due to the fact that she had forgotten he was even here, or that he was holding her hand. “Oh, Ethan, this is my…good friend, Sam Cromwell.”

  Sam Cromwell held out his hand. Ethan shook it, pissed at what a firm handshake it was.

  “Nice to meet you, Ethan.”

  “Likewise,” Ethan said. “This is your farm?”

  Sam nodded. “Yep.”

  “So, you’re into blueberries?”

  Sam stood a little straighter like he was on to the fact that Ethan thought he was an idiot. “My grandparents started the farm. They named it.”

  Ethan nodded. “How do you two know each other?”

  Sam’s lips parted like a giant whale. “We go way back.”

  Allie looked up at Ethan. “We dated for a while.”

  “Best few weeks of my life,” Sam said, leaning against one of the trees.

  He hoped it would fall over. “Great. So, we’re here for a tree,” Ethan said. He pointed to the tree Allie had already shown him. “I think Allie wants that one. How much do we owe you?”

  “For Allie? It’s on the house.”

  Ethan took out his wallet. “I insist.”

  “Sam, that’s so sweet of you, but I’m paying.”

  “I’ve got it,” Ethan said, baring his teeth like a Neanderthal.

  “No, it’s on the house,” Sam said, standing a little straighter. Dammit if they weren’t the same height.

  “Guys,” Allie said in some primary school teacher’s voice. “I’m paying. It’s going down as an expense for the shelter.”

  Sam held up his hands. “I’ll take it to your car.”

  “I’ll take it,” Ethan said.

  “Company policy. I’ll take it.”

  Ethan shrugged and watched him lift the tree effortlessly. “Fine. I’d hate to go against official Blueberry Hill policy. We’ll be there in a minute.” Once he was out of earshot, Ethan turned to look at Allie. She was currently scowling at him.

  Her foot was tapping against the snow-covered ground, making a crunching noise whenever it hit the snow. “What was that all about?”

  “So he’s the ex?”

  She crossed her arms and tucked her hat down lower over her forehead, but not low enough to cover her scowl. “Yes.”

  “Why’d you break up? Tell me it was you who broke up with him.”

  “I find your attitude very disturbing, as is your barking out all these questions. I refuse to answer you unless you back down.”

  Ethan held up his hands. “Back down? I’m not being confrontational. I’m just curious.”

  “We broke up because he couldn’t give me what I needed.”

  Ethan couldn’t stop the grin from spreading on his face.

  She swatted him with her mitten. “It wasn’t him. It was me. I wanted that all-encompassing love, that desire that makes a person shake. The weak in the knees thing.”

  “I could have told you he wouldn’t have given that to you. I could have spared you weeks of your life.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You’re acting insane.”

  “No, Allie. I’m acting like a guy who has asked you out three times and had you refuse me. I’m acting like said guy who then has to meet some blueberry farmer that you did agree to date. I will also tell you that Weekend Ethan is arriving tomorrow and—”

  Her squeal of outrage interrupted him. “What did you just say?”

  He couldn’t help but smile, even though she was royally pissed, hands on her hips, with a look that told him she was ready to kick his ass. “Yeah, Weekend Ethan. You know, with scruff so appealing you want to lick my face.”

  She yelled as she lunged for him. He managed to duck as she tried to hit him, but he was laughing so hard she managed to get him in the shoulder. “I can’t believe you! I wasn’t dreaming. You’re awful!”

  Her face was bright red, and he managed to grab her hand, tugging her over to him. “I don’t think you really think I’m awful.”

  “Do not quote me again.”

 
“Fine. I don’t need to quote you. Yes, last night was very, very real, and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since. I’ll tell you what I know. That chemistry you wanted with Spam the blueberry farmer? We have it. You’ll know that when I kiss you in less than one minute from now.”

  “Uh, you wish, and his name is Sam.”

  “Your world will stop. Your knees will be so weak you’ll have to hold on to me. You’ll forget where you are, who you are, and everything except wanting more.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and a little sound that sent blood pumping through his veins came out of her mouth. Ethan stepped into her space and cupped her face, every muscle tightly wound in his body. Snow fell around them, and they were isolated amidst the rows and rows of trees on the hill. She didn’t move; her eyes were on his and he knew, could feel the desire running through her.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered, her gaze going from his eyes to his lips.

  “I’m showing you what it’s like to forget where you are, who you are, and everything except wanting more.” He dipped his head and finally tasted the woman that kept him up at night, thinking, wanting. But he wasn’t going to rush this. He was going to savor every second, and he was going to show her exactly how good they could be together. He softly brushed his lips against one corner of her mouth, and she sighed. Her hands clutched his forearms when he said her name against her lips and then sank his hands into her hair.

  That was the end of taking it slow. He kissed her wet and deep, and Allie tasted better than he remembered. She tasted of cinnamon and vanilla…and Allie. And he couldn’t get enough. He fisted his hands in her hair, pulling her closer, kissing her until he was pretty damn sure he made good on every one of his arrogant promises. Her hands went from his forearms to his chest and tugged on the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer, until he was drowning in Allie.

  “Your tree is ready!” a voice called out, sounding like Spam.

  “Wow,” she whispered, still clutching his forearms and moving back slightly.

  “We could have had this for three years if you’d said yes.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes filled with something that looked like insecurity. She let go of his arms and took a step back. “Three years ago I had a hard time picturing you as anything but a guy looking for a good time and no strings.”