Page 24 of Mistletoe Bargain with the Billionaire

It had always been clear that the Wilders living in the ramshackle house they’d inherited on Frankincense Lane weren’t quite on the same level as the Frosts in their historical manse across the hedge in the opinion of many people in Whistler but I never thought Mrs. Frost was one of them.

Anyway, two minutes into this farce and the jig is up. Someone call Janey so she can crow about it all during the family reunion. I’ll never be able to hold my head high in Whistler again. Why didn’t I call Mom sooner to give her a heads up?

And why is Nick swelling with rage over his grandmother’s very valid point? Why wouldIbe ashamed of datinghim?If it was real, I know without a doubt I’d be over the moon to be dating Nick. I’m still kind of over the moon even with it being fake. After that kiss earlier, I really wish it wasn’t fake.

“You are completely out of line, Grams,” Nick snarls once his momentary ‘oh snow’ face has passed. Can’t blame him for that ‘oh snow’ face. I felt the same. Meanwhile, Nick snarling?Hot.

“There’s a lot I owe you in life but, if you think I’m going to stand here idly for one second while you make snide remarks regarding Carol and the likelihood of us being a couple, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Nick, it’s okay,” I try to say, reaching for his hand.

He’s not deterred. He grasps my hand and pulls it against his chest. “Thiswoman was my dear friend throughout our childhood and, ever since we met again as adults, the sparks and feelings and… “ He gestures wildly with our hands still clasped searching for another romantic-sounding word. Alas, he’s more of a techie than a poet. “…an-an-andsparksshe’s invoked have been undeniable. I’m crazy about her.”

“Nicky,” I whisper softly and I catch Marley and Grams both softening at his words as well. He glances my way and what I wouldn’t give for a shooting star right now to make a Christmas wish that thiswasreal.

“We came home for the holidays to share this news with our families but, if that’s not good enough for you, maybe we’ll just have our dinner elsewhere tonight.”

He actually starts to rise but Mrs. Frost knows when to wave the white flag. “No, please, don’t leave! I’m sorry for my tone, Carol. I’m sorry, Nick. Please, stay and have dinner with us. We have so much catching up to do.”

Augusta Lavinia Frost just apologized. To me.Wow.

“That’ll be up to Carol,” Nick says, brushing his thumb over my wrist and setting off… well, sparks. “But just know that she’s talented and gorgeous and an all-around lovely person who I consider myself very fortunate to be with.”

Do you hear what I hear? The well-known carol plays quietly in the background but it’s not a song high above the trees with a voice as big as the seas that you hear. It’s the sound of my ovaries exploding. In front of your grandmother. In a restaurant called Barney’s, for fruitcake’s sake!

Four sets of eyes turn expectantly towards me, waiting to hear my verdict on whether or not Nick and I are staying for dinner. It’s a little much to be honest. “Could you excuse us?” I say to the table, silently urging Nick to follow me.

But I see Mrs. Frost’s tortured look and I don’t want to cause an old lady who loves her grandson fiercely any additional anguish. We came all this way to see them and wearelying about our relationship so, no matter how she phrased things, she wasn’t totally wrong.

“I could really go for some of Barney’s cheesy toast and whatever wine you recommend if the server comes before we’re back,” I tell her and she relaxes, assured of our return.

Then, I grip Nick’s hand and lead him down the dimly lit corridor towards the restrooms. The song has switched to Mariah Carey belting out ‘All I want for Christmas is you’ and that’s exactly how I feel right now.

“I’m sorry about that, Carol. I know she figured us out but I couldn’t let her hurt your feelings like that or-”

I cut him off with an almost harsh, “Shut up and kiss me, Nicky,” before I plaster my body up against his, showing him how much I appreciate what he just did.

It’s not the sweet passion like in the gazebo earlier. This is rougher, dirtier and fueled by need. Our mouths clash and tongues wrestle like we’ll never get enough. I’m not sure how long we make out in the dimly lit corridor but I know we’re overdue at the table. I don’t care. This will sell our story, right? (Is it still just a story?)

We grind against one, Nick taking control and turning us so that I’m caged between the wall and his sculpted body. “Carol, I’m dying for you.” His impressive bulge proves the point.

“Don’t die,” I tease, shifting my hips to increase the friction. We moan together and, with our mouths centimeters apart, I whisper, “I want you, Nick.”

He grips my waist tighter and gulps, “You mean… here?” I can’t tell if he’s more eager to give it a go or tormented at the thought of not following through considering his family is waiting on us at the moment.

God, that would be so hot and naughty and I’d gladly take a lump of coal for Christmas to experience it with him… but I can’t. If word got out that we screwed over one of Barney’s toilets, the shock might kill poor Grams and I won’t have that on my conscience.

I shake my head, our noses brushing while my fingers are buried in his thick hair. “Not here but tonight at the hotel…”

He nods and, with dark, hungry eyes, his hand trails up my side one last time, teasing my nipples. “I don’t really want to eat steak right now, honey.”

“Me neither but we traveled a long way for this.”

He snickers and I playfully ask what he wants to eat instead of steak. He whispers his response in my ear.Oh my Christmas cookies…

“Steak now,” he says, giving me a final peck. “I can wait for dessert at the hotel later.”

We return to the table, hand in hand, with swollen lips and unabashed grins to find Barney’s cheesy toast and a lovely white wine waiting for us both. Sure, there’s a bit of lingering tension but Grams seems willing to forgive our scandalous behavior since we’ve forgiven her initial rudeness.

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