Page 14 of A Billionaire's Holiday Love

Stalking back into the living room, frustrated as fuck, I sat on the coffee table. I removed each of her slippers.

“What are you doing?” she scowled.

“These ridiculous things have to go. They’re wet. So are your socks.” Meeting her gaze, I tugged off each squishy slipper, chucking them one by one over my shoulder.

“My slippers are adorable.”

“Only to you. Besides, I don’t want you to catch pneumonia. Let them dry out by the fire.”

Holding her soft bare foot in my hand made my cock rock hard.

Noah, don’t stare at her cute brown feet. And no, I don’t have a foot fetish. But one day soon I’ll suck her big toe so good she’ll cream all over my hand.

“Mini elves are stamped in the green nail polish on each toe, really?” A dry chuckle rolled from my throat.

She smirked, stretching her hand out. “Look at my nails.” Hope wiggled her fingers.

“Little black Santa’s are painted on each one.”

I grabbed her soft hand, still cradling her foot in my lap. Careful not to let it touch my hard dick. “This is over the top. Next you’ll tell me you belong to a social media group where you all share Christmas ideas.”

Silence. Hope stared at me and blinked.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Noah, give me the socks. I can put them on myself.”

“Hope, I’m almost done.” I slipped the socks over her feet and up over her calf muscles.

“I’ll place the horrific looking slippers near the fire.”

She snatched her feet out of my lap and tucked them under her bottom. “Thanks.”

Scooping up her damp socks, I picked up the slippers scattered about the floor in route to the fireplace. “Would you like a glass of whiskey to help you sleep?”

“I needed that vodka tonight. But I’ll take the whiskey.”

I screwed the top off the bottle of Makers Mark. “Follow me into town tomorrow so we can pick up supplies.”

I walked over, placing a red solo cup in her hand.

“No problem. That cabin was my first home purchase. I rent a condo back home.”

“Why didn’t you buy a house in Charleston?” I sat at the other end of the ratty black sofa.

“I’m never home. While the cabin is a place where I’ll only spend time once a year, I want to make it count. One day if I ever get married and start a family, we’ll have this little piece of heaven to enjoy every Christmas.” Hope brought the cup to her lips. The second the whiskey hit her throat; her face scrounged up.

“You and Mr. Clause will turn this side of the mountain into Christmas town number two?” I arched a brow, sipping the harsh liquid.

She burst into laughter. “I guess so. We’ll enjoy snowball fights, hot chocolate and S’mores near the fireplace.” Hope stuck her finger in the air. “Oh, and we’ll make a production out of decorating the tree. Christmas tunes playing in the background.” Her eyes glittered with excitement.

“Can’t forget the gingerbread house contest. And finally baking Christmas cookies.”

“You’ve dreamed about this forever I see.”

“Not really. It’s the traditions my sister, brother, and I enjoyed with our parents growing up. My mom passed away five years ago.”

My back stiffened and the urge to hug her crept through my arms. “Again, I’m sorry for your loss, Hope.”

---