Jingle Bell Romance: A Colorado Billionaires Christmas Story

by Regina Duke

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Blurb

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Regina's Books

  Regina's Bio

  JINGLE BELL ROMANCE

  A Colorado Billionaires Christmas Story

  by

  Regina Duke

  Jingle Bell Romance: A Colorado Billionaires Christmas Story

  Copyright © 2015 Linda White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Regina Duke. www.reginaduke.com

  This book is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely in the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any references to places, events or locales are used in a fictitious manner.

  Digital ISBN 978-0-9862903-8-1

  Formatted by StevieDeInk StevieDeInk.com

  Cover Design Copyright © 2015 StevieDeInk

  Cover images © mamastock and Fotolia

  Jasmine Angel has to work through the holiday and can’t afford to see her family. Then she has a fender bender that changes everything.

  Ryan Hutch’s boss is a real Scrooge, and Ryan wonders if there’s more to life than the almighty dollar. Can Jasmine teach him the meaning of family? Find out in this sweet tale of Christmas romance by USA Today Bestselling author Regina Duke.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Eagle’s Toe, 9:32 a.m.

  Saturday, December 19

  Jasmine Angel ran a brush through her short auburn curls and pulled on the black slacks and white blouse of her waitress uniform. Of all the days to oversleep! She’d promised Alice Kate McAvoy that she’d cover for Steve the Fink, who insisted on taking two weeks at Christmas to visit his relatives at a ski lodge in Vermont. Now she was regretting her promise. She missed her own family.

  When Stinky Steve took off for his ski vacation, part of her was crushed. She’d expected to see their casual relationship blossom over the holidays.

  He obviously had other plans, the rat. He didn’t even pretend that he wanted her to come along. Instead she was working through the holiday, stuck in Eagle’s Toe, and she was miserable.

  Miserable and late. She’d stayed up the night before watching Hallmark movies, crying through a box of tissue—hey, they were sad movies—and eating a quart of Cookies and Cream ice cream. Now she was rushing to get ready and out the door. To add to her distress, the roads were covered with just enough snow to make driving on her bald tires doubly treacherous.

  Her little apartment on the north side of Eagle’s Toe was usually enough for her, but this morning, it felt like a white-walled cell. Her plastic Christmas tree looked as pitiful as she felt. At least the Itty Bitty restaurant didn’t open for breakfast, and lunch customers had to wait until eleven to get in. But Jasmine was supposed to be there by nine-thirty to help set up and do whatever little extras needed doing, especially with Steve out of town. Napkins had to be folded and stuffed into rings, table cloths had to be smoothed onto the twelve tables, and all the condiments had to be checked and filled. But today, she didn’t even wake up until nine.

  She’d texted Mrs. McAvoy that she was on her way, but she still felt like a loser. If she’d gotten this job through her brother’s temporary agency, he would be reading her the riot act.

  “Austin!” She slapped a hand to her forehead. “I haven’t shopped for Austin!” Her six-year-old nephew was the light of her life, and the idea of not seeing him this Christmas was devastating. His new mom, Laura, was also about to give birth, and soon Jasmine would have two little ones to miss during the holidays.

  She grabbed her purse, shoved her arms into a jacket, and rushed out the door. Her car, a ten-year-old compact, needed its windshield scraped, and her breath formed clouds in the December air. Tiny flakes of snow promised more to come later in the day. She was already dreading closing time at the Itty Bitty. The doors locked at ten p.m. but it would be eleven before she could head home. She wished she’d moved to Pueblo after college so her brother would be closer. But at the time, that had been the very thing she hadn’t wanted to do.

  As she’d told him at graduation, “You know I love you, Jed, but I need to find my own way. Besides, if I stay with you in Pueblo, you’ll never let yourself meet someone new.”

  Less than a year later, he had met someone, Laura Snow. And they were perfect for each other. Now she was having their baby, and little Austin would be someone’s big brother.

  Jasmine scraped enough windshield to allow herself to see out, then got behind the wheel. The back window heater had melted six strips of ice, enough for her to check her rearview mirror. She debated her route, but decided against the highway. She had to go almost a mile east to get to an on-ramp. Even though she could exit right next to the Cattleman’s Inn, it always felt wrong to drive east in order to go west, so she took her usual route south, through the modest collection of administration buildings that housed the police, the mayor, and the town council, through the neighborhood of ranch-style homes north of the hospital, then past Fineman Memorial and under the highway to reach the Cattleman’s Inn. Her breath was fogging all the glass, so she hit the button to lower her window. Then she cranked up the heat to fight off the frozen air. Only another couple of blocks. Home free.

  The Mercedes came out of nowhere. Jasmine hit the brakes, but her bald tires just kept going, and she slid into the passenger side of the luxury car.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Ryan Hutch barely felt the bump, but he knew what had happened. The cute little number in the old compact had slid into him, and the weight of his Mercedes had stopped her cold. He groaned and shoved the car into park. He should have rented something instead of driving down in his own car. But he’d been so bummed that his Scrooge of a boss wanted him down here in Podunk, Colorado for the Christmas season, he just needed the comfort of his new Mercedes.

  Not so new anymore.

  The street wasn’t busy, thank goodness. He slid out of the car and stood up, unfolding his six-foot-three-inch frame and straightening his tailored navy suit. Tiny flakes of snow landed on his perfectly styled dark blond hair, shining like crystals in the weak winter light. His sharp blue eyes took in the damage. Barely a dent in his Mercedes, but the front of the little gray compact was crumpled.

  The woman was still in her car, resting her forehead on the steering wheel. Her window was open.

  “Are you all right?”

  Her head snapped upright. “Didn’t you see my blinker? Oh my gosh, look at my car!”

  Ryan replied, “You dented my Mercedes.”

  “What a shame. Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” She tried to start the engine. It made a grinding sound, then died away. Her chin trembled. “I’m already late for work, and now my car is totaled.”

  Ryan looked around. “Don’t they have any cops in this town?”

  The woman’s spunk returned. “This town happens to be Eagle’s Toe, Colorado, and we usually don’t need many policemen here because most of the people here know how to drive, thank you very much.”

  Ryan vacillated between irritation and amusement. His Mercedes would be fine, but this poor girl would be walking for a while, from the looks of her front end. He pulled his cell out
of his pocket. Three messages from the boss. He grimaced and tucked it away.

  The woman finally got out of her car.

  A man in a white apron and a baker’s hat came out of The Muffin Man. “Miss Angel? Are you all right?”

  “I’m okay. Just rattled. I think I need a tow truck.”

  “Don’t worry. I just called the police and the garage.” He waved and headed back inside.

  Ryan crossed his arms and leaned against his vehicle. “Is Angel your first name or your last?” He studied her as she dug in her purse for her insurance card. Her peaches-and-cream complexion sported two bursts of red on the cheekbones, and her eyes flashed hazel when she spared him an annoyed glance.

  “Last,” she said, thrusting her insurance card in his face. “Where’s yours?”

  “Jasmine Angel,” he read. “I’m Ryan Hutch. Oh, here comes a police car now.”

  Ryan expected to be stuck in the middle of the street while the small town cop strutted about, taking measurements and making a big deal out of his job, but he was pleasantly surprised. Fifteen minutes later, all the paperwork had been filled out, and a tow truck driver was hauling Jasmine’s car onto the bed of his truck. Ryan’s phone buzzed and buzzed and buzzed. He was ready to throw it against a wall.

  Jasmine spoke briefly with the tow truck driver, gave him her phone number, then turned, shivering, to face Ryan. “You’d better tell him if you need a tow before he leaves. We only have one really good garage here.”

  Ryan walked over to his Mercedes, reached in and started the car. The engine made a barely audible but very healthy hum. “I’m fine.”

  Jasmine muttered, “Of course you are. Look, I have to go to work.” She asked the policeman, “May I leave now?”

  He checked a few pages on his clipboard, then said, “Oh heck, sure, why not? I’ll come over to the Itty Bitty if we forgot anything.”

  “Thanks.” She flashed him a smile.

  For the first time in his life, Ryan wished he were a cop. As Jasmine hurried off, Ryan asked the policeman, “What’s an Itty Bitty?”

  “That little restaurant over there, on the other side of The Muffin Man bakery.” He pointed with his pen. “Say, do you have any questions for me before I take this paperwork back to the station?”

  Ryan shook his head. “No, I’m good. I’m a lawyer,” he added, as if that would explain how he knew all things about the universe. He was still watching Jasmine make her way to the alley halfway down the block. When she finally turned the corner, he sighed like a man who’d lost something he never knew he had.

  “Well, don’t go harassing that young lady,” said the policeman. “You can afford to fix your Mercedes a lot easier than she can replace her car. Who do you work for, if don’t mind me asking?”

  Ryan’s training kicked in and he said without thinking, “That’s confidential.”

  “Sure, sure. Out of towner.”

  Ryan’s brows knit together. “Obviously. I gave you my address. What are you trying to say?”

  The policeman shrugged. “Nothing. Except most of the local billionaires make sure their lawyers aren’t jerks. No offense.”

  Ryan’s phone buzzed again, reminding him why he’d been sent to Eagle’s Toe. “Speaking of billionaires, how do I find Thor Security?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jasmine entered the Itty Bitty through the employee’s door in the alley. Once inside, she clocked in and went looking for Mrs. McAvoy. She heard voices out front. One of them was male. A spark of hope flared inside her. Maybe it was Stupid Steve. Maybe Vermont was snowed in and he was here, working. But no such luck. As she quick-stepped into the restaurant, she saw Mrs. McAvoy’s nephew, George, chatting with his aunt. There was a pretty girl with him. When Mrs. McAvoy turned to look at her, she smiled grimly. As usual, her boss knew in an instant that something was wrong. She came straight over and laid a comforting arm around Jasmine’s shoulders.

  “Let’s go in the back and you can tell me all about it,” said Mrs. McAvoy.

  “I’ll get started on set-up chores right away. Sorry I’m late.”

  Something went bang in the kitchen. “You settle yourself a bit, dear. I’ll go see if Tony’s still alive. Then I want every detail, okay?”

  Jasmine nodded, afraid her voice would break if she talked too much. She was filling condiment jars when Mrs. McAvoy appeared at her elbow.

  “Jasmine, dear, what’s wrong? You look pale as a ghost. And you forgot to put your jacket and your purse in the locker.”

  Jasmine dropped the salt shaker she was filling, and the contents spilled all over the work table. Her knees were shaking.

  “Sit down, dear.” Mrs. McAvoy pulled a chair closer.

  Jasmine sank onto it and gave up on corralling the spilled salt. She felt Mrs. McAvoy’s warm hand on her shoulder. That gentle kindness was more than she could handle, and a tear escaped. She wiped it hastily away. “Fender bender,” she said. “My car had to be towed away.”

  “Oh no!” Mrs. McAvoy pulled her up into a hug. “You poor thing.” When she released her, Jasmine sank back onto the chair.

  “I’m just shaking a bit, but I’ll be okay. I’m so sorry I’m late.”

  “You sit for a bit and gather yourself. I’ll have Tony bring you some tea. Have you eaten? Wait right here.”

  Jasmine pulled in a calming breath. Mrs. McAvoy was definitely one of the reasons she found Eagle’s Toe a great place to live. She scolded herself for thinking earlier that she should move to Pueblo. When her hands would cooperate, she began carefully filling the rest of the condiment jars. A few minutes later, Tony, the chef, brought her a tray with tea and a plate of eggs and bacon and toast.

  “Only for you,” he said, his New York accent still thick after twenty years in Colorado. “Customers get what’s on the menu. But Jazzy gets a real breakfast. You sure you wasn’t hurt?”

  Jasmine smiled up at him. “I’m fine, Tony. This will cure whatever got shaken loose.”

  “Good.” He patted her shoulder. “Mrs. McAvoy says you stay back here and eat. She’ll cover until you finish. Besides, we got twenty minutes before we open.”

  “Did I see George out front?” It was common for George to come and go as he liked, since the McAvoys had raised him as their own.

  “Yeah, and did you see the lady with him? Mrs. McAvoy is all excited. She says it’s about time he got serious about a girl.” Tony pulled something from the pocket of his apron. “Oh, this is for you. It’s one of those blank cards for people to write letters to Santa. You’re eating at the Itty Bitty, so you should get one, too. You can ask for a new car.” He winked at her, then headed back to the kitchen.

  At first, Jasmine picked at her breakfast, but once she tasted Tony’s eggs, she realized she was starving and dug in. With one eye on the wall clock—she didn’t want Mrs. McAvoy to have to cover for her for long—she dug her cell phone out of her purse and contemplated calling her brother. No. That would have to wait for her break. They always talked for twenty minutes or more. Besides, he would be worried sick about her when she told him about the accident.

  Since she was covering for Steve, she’d be working a split shift, another piece of bad news. Usually, she worked dinners and he worked the lunch crowd because he was taking night school. Ordinarily, Jasmine liked the arrangement because her tips were better at night. But working both shifts made for a long and exhausting day. When the lunch customers left, she’d have a couple of hours to call her own. Not that she could do anything without a car.

  She munched bacon and thought about Ryan Hutch. He’d pulled out right in front of her! And she could have sworn he was looking right at her when he did it. How could he see her and still not stop? Then she remembered his preoccupation with his cell phone. She set her cup down with a clatter. He was probably texting. She shook her head.

  The card with the McAvoys as Santa and Mrs. Claus made her smile. What a whacky pair of old darlings they were. Christmas was their favorite time of year. An
d it never failed—at the end of the shift, the wooden box by the cash register always had three or four letters to Santa in it. She didn’t really think they applied to her. After all, she was an employee. And she’d never ask for a new car. That was fantasy land. But maybe, just maybe, she’d think of something. She tucked the card into her purse, put her things in her locker, and got to work.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Angel Temps, 3:00 p.m.

  Pueblo, Colorado

  Jedediah Angel stood, hands on hips, staring his office manager in the eye. Daniela folded her arms across her chest and stared right back.

  “Daniela, as your employer, I insist you take the week off and spend it with your relatives.”

  Daniela humphed. Her softly accented English did not impede her ability to communicate. “Mr. Angel, may I remind you that this is the only time of the year that both my sisters are visiting me? And both are in my kitchen baking and cooking? And both have their own children with them? And they are babysitting my Bridget? Please do not force me to go back to that house full of loving chaos. I really, really want to be at work. Please, let me be your manager. That’s why you gave me that big raise. And thanks to Laura, I know all about the computers now. And we have another employee helping me. No, señor. It is me who must insist that you take the two weeks and go be with your beautiful wife. She’s going to give birth soon.”

  Jed knew he was going to lose the argument. And Daniela was right. She was doing great as his manager, and he certainly understood that she wanted the relative peace and quiet of her office instead of the Christmas insanity going on at her house. He’d come in looking for the same peace and quiet.

  “Laura insists that she has another three weeks,” he said, hoping that would sway Daniela.

  But no such luck. She shook her head. “I have seen a lot of pregnant ladies in my family. Your Laura is very lucky that she carries her baby without gaining any extra weight. But that makes her look earlier than she is. Understand me?”