Page 6 of Merry Kissmas, My Billionaire

“It’s so good,” Rudy praises, clutching her fork in excitement.

“Even the broccoli is good,” Juniper loads another heaping of vegetables on her plate and as a mother, I could cry.

I try the food myself, taking a bite, resisting the urge to moan as the sausage seems to sizzle on my tongue.

“I go to their Cafes often,” I say turning my attention back to Trent. “I thought I recognized here. There really isn’t a better place to get coffee and a pastry.”

Trent, ever the gentleman, finishes his chewing before asking, “Cafes?”

“Mhm, there’s a few of them, around the city. They’ve even got a pizzeria too.” I try to picture Trent eating somewhere other than a Five Star restaurant and snicker.

“What’s so funny?” His foot brushes over my calf and goosebumps scatter across my skin.

I lick my lips as I answer, “Picturing you eating pizza.” His brow knit together, unsure if he should be offended or pleased with himself for being on my mind. “That is to say– You have a personal chef and I imagine you don’t eat anywhere that has the prices on the menu.”

Trent chuckles with me. “You, I can’t say you’re wrong…I don’t think I’ve ever seen a menu with prices.”

“And I don’t think I’ve ever eaten at onewithout.”

“I will have to take you,” he says slowly and what’s close to a smile—at least as close as I’ve witnessed—crosses his face.

There it was. An open-ended invitation. Did he mean it? Are we flirting or making dinner conversation? It’s so hard to read between the lines.

No, it isn’t hard to read, it’s just hard tobelieve. Him and me is preposterous?

Why not him and me?

Bottomless pockets be damned. Single mother syndrome be damned.

I solidify the notion with a soft smile and say, “I’d like that.”

Towards the end of the meal, Hannah returns along with a few other remaining staff.

“Mr. Goldworth, it’s coming down and they’ve closed the interstate.” Hannah clutches her coat and shifting nervously. The others, though older, huddle around the younger chef in hopes she may sway Trent in whatever unasked request they have.

I exchange nervous glances with the twins, how were they going to get home? They certainly didn’t live close enough to walk through a blizzard, let alone drive through roadblocks.

“Ah, I thought it looked nasty.” He sipped his wine, leaving everyone waiting on his say-so. “The second-floor hallway guest rooms should do,” he offers. “It’ll be more work for Tilly.” There’s an unspoken apology for one of the maids in the worker’s huddle behind Hannah. “But please, make yourselves at home.”

“We have plenty of food,” I add as if I have a say. “Come, sit and join us!”

The four of them glance at Trent. There’s hesitation but I give him a pout and he dips his head in silent approval.

“You are also not leaving,” Trent turns his attention back to me. “We have plenty of rooms. I can’t stand the thought of you and your family trying to make it home in this snow.”

My cheeks are warm and before I can answer the girls are squealing, “ Sleepover in a mansion!”

“I can work all night then,” I agree with his offer and try to keep it all business, even if this seems like something far from it.

There are rooms in this house better than in a posh hotel, but how can I imagine sleeping in the same house as Trent in another room when it’s far from what I want.

CHAPTER6

TRENT

How doesone entertain preteen girls? Rudy and Juniper stare at me expectantly, their mother, the growing apple of my eye, runs off to work rather than relax.

“Do…you like to color?” I ask as I shove my hands into my pockets.

---