A Billionaire's Holiday Love - Posey Parks Page 0,2
should gain a special piece of your inner self.”
His words were sweet. Weird listening to him show signs of having a warm heart.
I nodded. “That’s different. I didn’t expect that statement from Mr. Scrooge.”
“Hey, I have my reasons for hating Christmas. How do you like this overdone Christmas town, anyway?”
He bit into the pot roast.
“It’s absolutely adorable.” I patted the black messenger bag hanging off my chair. “The pictures I plan to take for my article will make this Christmas town a bigger sensation.”
He shook his head as he brought the glass to his lips. “Hardly a sensation.”
“Ok, Mr. Scrooge, figures you’re a workaholic. I’ll let you get back to it.” I sipped my hot chocolate.
“My brothers said that recently. Hence why I’m here in this godforsaken town.”
There were more hotties at home who looked like him. Damn.
“I’m not a workaholic. I just need to check sales daily.”
“And if they aren’t to your standard?” I scooped another forkful of mashed potatoes into my mouth.
He flashed his white teeth. Those green eyes sparkled and his olive skin glowed under the cute red-light fixtures hanging above.
“I’ll order an employee to strategize a fix.”
“All right then, we’ve established you’re a control freak. Your girlfriend or wife must enjoy you hovering over your laptop at dinner.” My lips tipped up ever so brightly.
He stared ahead, jaw ticking as he slammed his computer shut.
“Oh, now we’re getting somewhere. She hates that you don’t make enough time for her. And she’s not here.” I tapped my cheek.
“I got it. She threatened to call off the wedding?”
His big firm hand grabbed the back of my chair, spinning me toward him. Almost nose to nose, I peered up into his mischievous eyes as my breath caught in my throat.
“Pretty little Ms. Christmas thinks she has my life all figured out. I am happy and single. No one to answer to about how much I work when I’m at home.”
“Good to know you’re just like the real Scrooge. Now release my chair, you big beast.”
He smirked. “Oh, the things I’d do to you.”
My body shuddered under his smoldering green-eyed gaze.
“I’m not into brooding asshole workaholics.”
“Says the woman working during her favorite holiday.”
My jaw dropped. “I’ll have you know this is not considered work. This opportunity is a pleasure. The mayor of this town called me personally and asked if I’d write a story about the town. More Christmas lovers will flock to this town every year because of my write up.” My finger slammed into my chest.
He stared into my eyes a second longer. Could he see the effect he had on me? How my breasts rose and fell. How my lips parted, begging for his lips to touch mine.
Hope, yes, he’s single, but he hates Christmas. You two aren’t a match at all. Not to mention you’re not looking for a man.
Noah released my chair and turned back to his meal. I did the same.
I waved Delila over.
Her cheeks lifted. “What can I get for you, sweetheart?”
“I’d like a glass of the cinnamon apple beer on tap, a slice of sweet potato pie, and the bill, please.”
She winked. “Coming right up.”
Delila turned her attention to Noah. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Yes, a slice of apple pie.” He wiggled his finger between us. “Both checks.”
“Sure thing, hot stuff.” She walked to the other end of the counter.
My arms crossed my chest. “I don’t need you to pay my bill.”
“I’d like to pay. I enjoyed talking to you. This was the longest conversation I’ve had with a woman in years. Unless you count my mother.”
A small smile rose across my lips. “Thank you. Do you have any sisters?”
“No. My mother had four boys. I’m the second oldest. She’s tough as nails.”
“I bet she’s proud of you.”
“Yeah, she is.”
Our waitress returned. She placed clean silverware and the last of our order before us.
“Thanks, Delila. You’ll probably see my face in here often over the next month. I’m writing a story about the town.”
Her hands flew over her mouth. “You’re Hope Manning.”
I grinned. “Yes.”
“My brother works for the mayor at City Hall. He said Santa was sending his helper to write a beautiful story about our town, which would draw up more business.”
My heart warmed. “What I’ve seen so far is beautiful. So much more to see. You’ll be the first to read it.”
She ran around the counter and threw her arms around me. “Thank you.” Delila stepped back.
“The townspeople make the bulk of their money between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I’ll