Page 3 of A Billionaire's Holiday Love

My eyebrows shot up. “Oh, my god.” Felt like my face and neck were on fire. I stared at the hot chocolate and white marshmallow mustache in horror.

I franticly searched for a napkin. The dispenser nearby was empty.

Shielding my mouth with my hand, I attempted to reach across him for a napkin.

“Need something?”

“You’re getting a kick out of this. Give me a napkin, jackass.”

His brow arched. “Ms. Christmas has a potty mouth. Ask nicely.”

“Screw this.” I attempted to rise, and he gingerly gripped my arm. My ass met the seat.

“Relax.” He grabbed a napkin, then pushed my hand aside. “I got it.”

He dabbed the soft skin above my top lip. My heart banged in my chest at a rapid speed.

“The cocoa mustache brought character.” He grinned.

I slapped his hand away. “You aren’t funny.”

“Not joking.”

“You can erase the picture now.”

He shoved the phone back into his pocket.

“Seriously?”

His eyes fell on his computer again. “Who made the gold shimmery festive Christmas sweater? Your elves.” He chuckled.

My back straightened. “Me. Usually my sister Claire designs and sews. But we share the gift.” I slid my hand under the red bow in the center.

“Does that mean you’re a fashionista?” He sipped his beer.

“I only design in my free time, which isn’t often. I’m a journalist.”

“What news outlet do you work for?”

“Oh, I’m my own boss. I’m a freelance journalist. I find the story, then shop it to news stations.”

“Are you on the go all the time? Yes. I rarely have a dull day. It’s the life.” I sucked on the peppermint stick. His eyes stared at my lips.

“How does your boyfriend or husband feel about living with a world traveler?”

“Oh, he loves it. He’s usually right by my side. But he had a last-minute trip.”

His face hardened.

“Just joking.”

“Cute.”

“There isn’t a guy out there willing to deal with my grueling schedule.”

“I thought...”

“Orders are ready.” Delila sat our plates before us.

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