A Billionaire for Christmas

Suddenly a sword fight breaks out and then there’s mass commotion, and the next thing I know, bare-chested muscly pirates are flying towards me on ropes.

“Emma!” one of them yells.

I laugh hysterically when I realize it’s Jesse. All dressed up in a puffy shirt and baggy pants with pirate boots on.

He swings towards me with wide, surprised eyes—then goes right past as all the other men jump off their ropes and land in the rigging around the mast and sail.

I try to turn to see where Jesse is, but I don’t have to look hard, because he comes swaying back my way, still yelling, “Emma!”

One of the more experienced actors grabs his rope as it goes by and for a moment, I’m positive the sudden jerk will shake Jesse off the rope. But he holds tight. Clings to it, actually. And then two guys are pulling him off the swinging rope and onto the rigging. He shimmies up towards me and I know I should be worried about him falling two stories down onto that deck below, but all I can think about is—no one asked me if I knew how to climb a rope!

I don’t.

I suck at rope climbing.

But luckily, Jesse is a sailor, and he’s got this. And I’m just going to assume there’s no rope climbing in my future, because that would not end well and anyway, there’s no time to think about that. Because six hot pirates are all dancing around me now like this is the Magic Mike show.

I laugh.

Best wedding ever!

One leans into my ear and whispers, “Hey there, Emma. Don’t worry. We won’t let you fall. But you better hold onto me tight!”

“Ooo-kay,” I stammer. But then I’m like, “Wait. Should I be worried about—”

Before I can finish my sentence, they’ve freed me from my siren cuffs, and one of them grabs me by the waist.

I see Jesse climbing up the rigging, and he finally gets to the crow’s nest when the freaking pirate I’m now attached to jumps off.

We go sailing through the air.

I scream, “Holy fuuuuuuuuck!”

Jesse yells, “Emmaaaaaaaa!”

Then we land precariously on the rigging and another pirate is there, whisking me into his arms. And before I even have a chance to appreciate his hot, sweaty, muscly body, we jump again.

This time we slide down the rope and I’m sure—like one hundred percent for sure—we’re going to die. But just before we crash into the deck, the fall slows to a stop and when I look up, I see that the pirate holding onto me was using a rope-brake to slow us down.

My heart is galloping with adrenaline inside my chest. I place my hand over it, trying to focus on the show going on around me and figure out where Jesse is now.

It’s fake. It’s all fake, Emma.

I know this, but there’s so much happening my heart is having a hard time believing that.

“Emmaaaaaaa!”

I turn to see Jesse swinging towards me on a rope. His shirt is flapping open and I get a good long look at his beautiful chest. “Jesseeeeee!” I yell back.

His foot actually touches the rigging just above my head, but then another pirate is there, pulling Jesse off. They crash to the deck. Luckily it’s only about six feet and Jesse lands on top of the enemy pirate, and then he’s up on his feet, drawing his sword.

Oh. I get it. He’s the good pirate sent to save me, the damsel in distress.

The other pirate draws his sword too and then there’s a flurry of clashing and twirling.

I’m pulled away—I think this is for my safety—but then… “HOL-LEEEE SHIT!”

A whole group of them lift me up in the air and start running.

I don’t know what else to do at this point but laugh. “Jesseeeeee,” I yell, turning around on my stomach with my arms extended, reaching for him.

He smiles at me, then with one whoosh of his sword, he connects with the enemy sword and that guy falls down to the deck and starts acting out a whole fake death scene.

Meanwhile, I’m set back down on my feet in front of the plank.

They’re not serious, right? I laugh at them.

But then one of them starts dragging me out over the water. This is when I notice the crowd again. Because they go wild and start chanting things like, “Throw her over!” and “Jump! Jump! Jump!”

I look down at the water beneath me, struggling to stay as close to the ship’s deck as I possibly can.

It kinda feels real. Like this bushy-beard head pirate guy really might throw me over.

“No,” I say, shaking my head at him. “Nope. I’m not jumping! I’m getting married!”

He just grins at me. And… is that a gold tooth?

Suddenly a parrot attacks him, landing on his head and flapping wildly. I squeal. The crowd cheers, on my side again.