Page 50 of A Billionaire's Holiday Love

CHAPTER NINE

NOAH

Sulking in a glassof whiskey at an Irish Pub in town, I circled my finger around the rim of the glass. I couldn’t look at myself in the large mirror behind the bar flooded with every kind of liquor imaginable. Brushing my other hand along the cherry wood bar, I inhaled a fresh coat of varnish.

Tourists and the townspeople crowded the bar, filling seats throughout the quaint establishment. I’d planted my ass in a seat here two hours ago. Too long to be away from my woman, who I’d fallen hard for the moment I laid eyes on her. I missed caressing her face and other parts of her body. We hadn’t had sex yet. What was I waiting for?

Her pussy was the last I’d ever stick my dick inside. Maybe I yearned for her to know our relationship wasn’t based on sex.

Why wouldn’t I just tell her what permanently ruined Christmas for me? Well, until I stumbled upon her.

“Noah, would you like another?” the straggly mousy brown-haired bartender asked.

My gaze led to the black piercing in her porcelain nose, then to the abundance of ink on her arms.

“Nice skull tattoo.”

She grinned. “Thanks.”

“Sheena, I’ll have a bottle of canyon and a basket of seasoned fries.”

She slapped the bar. “Coming right up, Mr. Canyon.” Sheena retrieved a bottle of beer from the lower fridge.

“You know this town will never forget your public display of affection with journalist Hope Manning, whom you call Ms. Christmas. You’re front-page news.” She tossed the newspaper on the bar next to my beer.

Luckily, the angle in which the reporter snapped the picture caught my side profile. The townspeople could now put half a face with Canyon Beer, the grandson of Piero Benatti. He was a long-time semi-annual resident of Christmasville. All because of my grandmother Aida, who adored this town. She passed away when I was eight. The two people who made a big deal out of Christmas in my life both died in December. So I was no longer a fan of the Christmas holiday.

I loathed attributing my success to my belligerent alcoholic father. But his dream inspired me to enhance his brew, making Canyon beer a successful brewery.

He belittled my brothers and I over the years and pushed us farther apart.

He ruined last Christmas for mom because he got into a bar brawl in Downtown Aspen. Dad begged mom to bail him out. And I asked her not to. That fucker needed to sit in the tank and dry out.

All the money in the world couldn’t fix my broken family.

Time to face your demons, Noah. Talk to Hope.

I chugged my beer. “I’ve destroyed me and Hope’s relationship before it took off.”

“You need to fix it before you lose her.”

I smirked. “Sheena, you’re right. And I will.”

“Good.” A smile lit up her face.

“Your fries will be out in ten.”

I nodded.

She disappeared into the kitchen.

“Well, what do we have here?”

A familiar voice filled my eardrums.

Bringing the whiskey to my lips, I peered at the man sitting to my right.

“What the fuck do you want?”

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