Billionaire Romance: Out of The Cold (Book One) Read Free

Have a merry Christmas.”
    James nodded. “You too.”
He gave Anna another look, his brows drawing together in what she
swore was worry, and then headed out through the back door. A
minute later, she heard his Jeep engine start up and drive away.
And something in her head went Wait, don’t
leave. A little seed of worry had been
planted inside of her, and she looked up at the sky,
wondering.
    “Damn, James makes me feel
like I’m not the one who should be taking credit on this one.”
Henry rubbed his face as he went to unload some of the bags onto
the counter. “He’s the one that directed the build, and his boys
are the ones who did it all. I just paid for it.”
    “And if you hadn’t been
there with the money, James and his guys would be unemployed and
this place would still be standing up here a roofless ruin without
an access road.” She gave him a pointed look as she helped him
unpack. Then their hands brushed reaching for the same Tupperware
full of gravy, and she got so flustered that she nearly dropped
it.
     
    “ I guess you’re right.” He
caught the container before it could fall and set it aside. Then he
looked at her curiously. “So, James. Is there something going on
there between you two?”
    She stopped dead and
blinked up at him. Oh damn it, don’t ask
me that. Why would you even care anyway? “I...have only ever seen him when I’m with you,” she managed
to stammer out, not meeting his eyes.
    “Oh. I was curious. He
seems interested.” The hard tone that crept suddenly into his voice
confused her, and she shook her head.
    “I barely know
him.”
    “Oh. Well, just
wondering.” He sounded slightly relieved.
    She blinked at him, and
then let the subject drop, though her head was spinning. Was he
jealous? No, he couldn’t possibly be. Not of her. Billionaires
dated supermodels, not round, quiet, shy girls from middle-class
Delaware families.

Chapter 3: Christmas Eve
    T hey fixed dinner together; she prepped what he hadn’t done
already, chopping vegetables and running things back and forth from
the oven while he stirred pots and added seasonings. It smelled
amazing.
    She couldn’t help
noticing, again, how well they worked together, even on such small
domestic tasks. Henry was in a great mood despite the setbacks and
James’s warnings, telling stories about how he’d found the place.
He already had other prospects in mind--including an old barn out
by Woodstock that he planned to turn into a set of artists’ lofts.
“The stables are from the sixteen hundreds. Almost four hundred
years old and still mostly standing except for the roof and some of
the interior woodwork. That’s going to be spring’s project. You
would not believe just how beautiful it is in there, Anna. I’ll
show you the pictures I took on my phone as soon as we’re done
here.”
    She smiled at him and was
about to answer when someone knocked on the front door. Her hands
were clean, so she hurried out to answer it. Standing there was a
smallish, round-faced man with John Lennon glasses and long, dark
hair barely covering a scar across his forehead. He was heavily
bundled in a down coat and jeans, and broke into a grin when he saw
her. “Oh hey! I didn’t know you were up here with Henry this time.
I wanted to bring him his Christmas present.”
    Toby Castleburg was a
local, one of the woodworkers Henry worked with, and very good at
scouting old properties that could be refurbished. He was only a
few years older than Anna, but had the manner of a big kid,
fidgeting a little bit in the doorway as he smiled. She knew that
under the giant jacket he would invariably have some comic book or
video game related T-shirt on over his thermals. “Where’s Henry?”
He peered past her and she stepped aside to let him in.
    “In here, Toby! You
staying for dinner?” Henry’s call was cheerful and welcoming. Toby
was a friend. Henry had this habit of making friends wherever he
went, and he wasn’t classist about