The Billionaire’s Christmas Vows: A Jet City Billionaire Christmas Romance by Gina Robinson Page A
Authors: Gina Robinson
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village, giving me time to screw up my courage. But I could hardly wait!
My breath caught when I saw the gingerbread creation. My heart squeezed. It was truly a winter wonderland. A forest of trees on a hill, sparkling with sugary snow and frost. Birds, rabbits, deer, and all manner of forest animals. A quaint cabin in the woods with a roaring fire that actually crackled and lit up. A couple cuddling in front of it. A Christmas tree in the corner. Santa on the roof.
And best of all, a snowman in the yard wearing a clerical collar and a parson's hat. A happy couple kissing in front of him, the bride with a lacy veil made of frost. The groom with rosy cheeks.
"Look!" I said to Jus. "Parson Brown. Isn't that romantic? They've really captured the theme of the song. I always wanted a winter wedding."
He lifted an eyebrow comically. "You did? I thought our summer wedding was perfect." He had that teasing look on his face.
Our "wedding" was an inside joke. Because, of course, I hadn't even been at it. And he didn't remember it.
I rolled my eyes and kissed him lightly. "That was nice. But a winter wedding has always been my secret fantasy. I think this one has my vote. Jus—"
I was just reaching into my purse to hand him my handcrafted, written marriage proposal card, when he grabbed my hand and pulled me forward toward the next display, nearly causing me to topple into him. Being off center and off balance was hell.
"Not so fast!" he said. "You can't vote until you've seen them all." He gave me a crooked, almost boyishly excited grin.
What was going on?
"Wait! I haven't finished looking at this one yet. There's a lot more detail to take in."
"I'm not a fan of that song." He continued pulling me along. "Is it just me or is it dumb to pretend a snowman is a preacher? Who makes a clergyman snowman in the first place? Soldiers, fireman, police, regular old snowmen, the headless snowman—that's a personal favorite—but pastor? Pretend he could marry me to someone?" He shook his head. "Crazy."
"It's romantic and whimsical in its way." I tried to resist moving on, but Jus was too strong and insistent.
"Look at this! Now this is a classic." He squeezed my hand. "Huh? Good, isn't it? Fairies. Pink spun sugar. Dancing peacocks. Princes. Soldiers. Christmas trees. Representatives from nations of the world?" He glanced at me for confirmation.
I thought he was overselling it. Then I took a closer look. " The Nutcracker ! Oh, it is nice. I love The Nutcracker ."
I forgot myself, and my mission, as I took in the intricate detail of this entry in the competition.
It was good. It was better than good. It was beautiful. Complicated. Evocative.
"Oh, look! There's the Sugar Plum Fairy! And there!" I pointed. "Clara in front of the Christmas tree." I leaned in for a closer look. "Is this based on the new Ian Falconer set?"
Justin's eyes danced. "It is. Kay, how would—"
Just then, a little boy, no more than four, pushed between us, squealing at an earsplitting volume as he tried to get away from his dad.
"Get back here, tiger." His dad broke between us. "Sorry." He looked harried as he flashed us an apologetic smile. "He's a fast one. You turn your head for one second and they run away." He looked at my belly and laughed. "You'll find out soon enough."
As he picked up his son, the boy burst into an even louder round of screams and protests.
Jus, who was normally good-natured and patient with anything having to do with children, looked irritated at the interruption.
He squeezed my hand. "This one gets my vote."
"Not so fast." I looked around again to make sure there were no reporters. "It is definitely nice. But we have to see the front side of the others before we decide. Those are your rules, not mine," I teased.
"Damn the rules. I made them. I can change them," he said. "I like this one." He reached into his pocket, ostensibly to pull out his phone, as I reached into my purse for the card.
I was half expecting him to pull
My breath caught when I saw the gingerbread creation. My heart squeezed. It was truly a winter wonderland. A forest of trees on a hill, sparkling with sugary snow and frost. Birds, rabbits, deer, and all manner of forest animals. A quaint cabin in the woods with a roaring fire that actually crackled and lit up. A couple cuddling in front of it. A Christmas tree in the corner. Santa on the roof.
And best of all, a snowman in the yard wearing a clerical collar and a parson's hat. A happy couple kissing in front of him, the bride with a lacy veil made of frost. The groom with rosy cheeks.
"Look!" I said to Jus. "Parson Brown. Isn't that romantic? They've really captured the theme of the song. I always wanted a winter wedding."
He lifted an eyebrow comically. "You did? I thought our summer wedding was perfect." He had that teasing look on his face.
Our "wedding" was an inside joke. Because, of course, I hadn't even been at it. And he didn't remember it.
I rolled my eyes and kissed him lightly. "That was nice. But a winter wedding has always been my secret fantasy. I think this one has my vote. Jus—"
I was just reaching into my purse to hand him my handcrafted, written marriage proposal card, when he grabbed my hand and pulled me forward toward the next display, nearly causing me to topple into him. Being off center and off balance was hell.
"Not so fast!" he said. "You can't vote until you've seen them all." He gave me a crooked, almost boyishly excited grin.
What was going on?
"Wait! I haven't finished looking at this one yet. There's a lot more detail to take in."
"I'm not a fan of that song." He continued pulling me along. "Is it just me or is it dumb to pretend a snowman is a preacher? Who makes a clergyman snowman in the first place? Soldiers, fireman, police, regular old snowmen, the headless snowman—that's a personal favorite—but pastor? Pretend he could marry me to someone?" He shook his head. "Crazy."
"It's romantic and whimsical in its way." I tried to resist moving on, but Jus was too strong and insistent.
"Look at this! Now this is a classic." He squeezed my hand. "Huh? Good, isn't it? Fairies. Pink spun sugar. Dancing peacocks. Princes. Soldiers. Christmas trees. Representatives from nations of the world?" He glanced at me for confirmation.
I thought he was overselling it. Then I took a closer look. " The Nutcracker ! Oh, it is nice. I love The Nutcracker ."
I forgot myself, and my mission, as I took in the intricate detail of this entry in the competition.
It was good. It was better than good. It was beautiful. Complicated. Evocative.
"Oh, look! There's the Sugar Plum Fairy! And there!" I pointed. "Clara in front of the Christmas tree." I leaned in for a closer look. "Is this based on the new Ian Falconer set?"
Justin's eyes danced. "It is. Kay, how would—"
Just then, a little boy, no more than four, pushed between us, squealing at an earsplitting volume as he tried to get away from his dad.
"Get back here, tiger." His dad broke between us. "Sorry." He looked harried as he flashed us an apologetic smile. "He's a fast one. You turn your head for one second and they run away." He looked at my belly and laughed. "You'll find out soon enough."
As he picked up his son, the boy burst into an even louder round of screams and protests.
Jus, who was normally good-natured and patient with anything having to do with children, looked irritated at the interruption.
He squeezed my hand. "This one gets my vote."
"Not so fast." I looked around again to make sure there were no reporters. "It is definitely nice. But we have to see the front side of the others before we decide. Those are your rules, not mine," I teased.
"Damn the rules. I made them. I can change them," he said. "I like this one." He reached into his pocket, ostensibly to pull out his phone, as I reached into my purse for the card.
I was half expecting him to pull
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