Page 23 of Mistletoe Bargain with the Billionaire

“A meeting, huh?” I ask, amused over what important meeting kids might have.

“Yeah, we’re trying to organize the capital to start up our gaming software company.” My jaw drops the same way theirs did a minute ago. “You’re our…” Tysha looks down at her feet and finishes with a mumbled, “…you’re like our hero, Mr. Frost.”

Carol wraps her hands around my arm and beams at me. “Ah, Nick! That’s amazing, isn’t it? Maybe you could take a look at what the kids have in mind while we’re in town?”

The kids’ eyes all go round as saucers, too stumped for words. I’m with them, stumped beyond belief that anyone would consider me their hero.

???

Even before her grandson made a mountain of money with a software application, Augusta Lavinia Frost was a person of high standing and a force to be reckoned with here in Whistler. In fact, for two and a half centuries, there’s been Frosts in this little corner of Maine. Much as I love my grams, she can be a little prideful in that regard.

Barney’s is the best steakhouse in Whistler and both Grams and Marley are dressed to the nines for this little family dinner. Carol’s still tightly holding my arm as we’re escorted to the table but, whereas she was delighted by the Frosties - as Tysha’s group had dubbed themselves and how can I possibly live up to being those kids’ hero? - she’s clearly nervous now.

“Don’t be nervous. You’ve known Grams and Marley most of your life.”

“I wish I’d had time to change clothes.”

I glance down at our travel-worn apparel and her Tevas. I never once thought she looked anything other than fantastic today but I suppose I see her point. I press a swift kiss to her brow and tell her, “You look beautiful to me, Carol.”

The hands around my arm squeeze me tighter and I catch the way Grams’ sharp, old eyes note the casual affection from across the room.That’s right.We’re a couple. This is what you wanted, right? You saw us kiss when we were teens and now we’re here together.

When I’d called my grandmother to tell her I would be bringing Carol home for the wedding and Christmas, she’d sounded surprised. She’d repeated Carol’s name half a dozen times then told me not to pull her leg. Maybe I should’ve questioned what she meant by that a little further.

I reach the table and kiss my sister and grandmother on the cheek and introduce Carol to Jake.

“Carol Wilder,” Marley says, starting things off. “I’ve not seen you since you were what? Eleven?”

“Um, fifteen. But you had already started college so-”

“Carol Wilder, Marley’s told me tales of the trouble you and Nick used to get up to when you were kids,” Jake says next. Apparently, you cannot say Carol’s first name without adding her last name.

“That’s right. Carol and I had a lot of fun when we were kids but now that we’re grown-”

“Carol Gertrude Wilder…” Grams has decided the middle name is necessary, too. “I spoke to your mother over the hedge just last week. And you know what? She didn’t say one peep about you and Nicholas being an item. She didn’t even know you were coming home this year. Said it’s been years since you have.”

“Right. Well…”

“So, that makes me wonder, are you hiding the fact you're dating my grandson from your folks? Are you ashamed of my Nicholas?”

“No, ma’am! I’m-”

“But why wouldyoube ashamed of dating Nicholas?” she asks, looking down her nose.

“Grams,” I cut in, not liking the tone of her last question one little bit.

“What? I’ve heard of her so-called singing career. Her cousin Janey sure had lots to say at the market on Sunday regarding that and it’s hardly as if your success is a secret.”

Carol looks stricken and I want to punch someone. No, not my grandmother exactly but still.

Grams turns the full force of her probing look on me before I can retort… or blow my top and adds, “Or is this some sort of game you’re playing trying to fool an old woman, Nicholas Kristopher Frost? Hmm?”

Oh shit.

14-Carol

“Why wouldyoube ashamed of dating Nicholas?”

I always liked Mrs. Frost even if she was intimidating to me as a child. She didn’t go nutcrackers on us when Nick and I broke that collectible vase dancing like maniacs in her fancy sitting room as kids but, oof, I’d forgotten how quick the old lady could go for the jugular when she felt the need to defend her brood.

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