The Billionaire's First Christmas - A Sweet Christmas Romance (A Winters Love 1)

ROBYN

Once Mr. Pibbs and I finally went to bed and fell asleep, I slept like a log for about seven hours. The hot cocoa had done its job and cancelled out the sugar rush of the cookies and lured me to sleep. I’d just opened my eyes and rolled over to see if Mr. Pibbs was still in his bed or not when there was a rap on my front door. I wasn’t expecting company. I was hoping that Aaron would come for dinner, but that was just a fantasy. Besides if he did show up, he certainly wouldn’t come first thing in the morning, would he? No, it wasn’t Aaron. I wasn’t going to let myself get my hopes up.

I couldn’t imagine who else would be at my door so early on Christmas morning. I looked at Mr. Pibbs who looked as confused as I was. I shrugged and he went to his corner. He was a bit of an introvert, company wasn’t really his thing. I got up and donned my fuzzy robe and slippers and went out to get the door.

“I’m coming,” I yelled out as there was a second rap. When I reached the door I stood on my tip toes and looked out the peephole. Aaron was standing there in the ugliest Christmas sweater in the world, the one I had bought for him as a joke and left on his front doorstep. I told myself that the world must be coming to an end. Why else would he be standing on my doorstep wearing that thing instead of soaking up the sun in Belize? I honestly thought it might make him smile but never in a million years did I expect him to put it on.

“Good morning! Merry Christmas,” I said as I pulled open the door. I was trying not to laugh at his sweater. I wasn’t sure yet if he’d understood that it was a joke.

“Good morning. I’m sorry, did I wake you?” He was staring at me with a funny look and I suddenly realized what I must look like. I’d gone to bed with the tear stains from my movie and now that I thought about it, I could feel my hair sticking up every which way. My robe was a little ratty… not because I couldn’t afford a new one, but because this one was my favorite. I hadn’t expected Aaron to ever see it, that’s for sure.

“Yes, but I was getting up soon anyways,” I told him. “Come in, please. You look… festive this morning. Please excuse how I look.”

With a serious look he said, “You look amazing.” It sounded like he really meant it. Then, he laughed a little about the sweater and said, “I thought it would be rude to show up for Christmas dinner in anything other than the sweater you so painstakingly picked out for me.”

I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I had to laugh. He was killing me in that sweater. It had a knit Santa and two reindeer sitting at a table playing cards on the front of it. It was tacky, to say the least.

“Are you laughing at my sweater?” he said, with mock offense. “My good friend, Robyn got this sweater for me.”

“Well, I hate to tell you this but with friends like that…”

“I know, right? I was hoping it was a joke.” Aaron finally stepped inside and looked around. The apartment was small, but decorated in good taste and very festive with a Christmas tree and a table set with an entire tiny Christmas village. It was warm and welcoming and it smelled like cinnamon and spice. It reminded him of his home when he was a little boy. “Your home is very nice,” he said. “But I thought you were spending Christmas with your family.”

“I am,” I told him. I made my kiss kiss noise and Mr. Pibbs came out of hiding. He’s a twenty pound Siberian cat that had been with me since my first week in New York. I’d found him in an alleyway and begged Melissa to let him stay with us. When I moved out, she begged me to take him. She always accused him of having an attitude. Personally, I think he’s just misunderstood.

“Mr. Pibbs, Aaron. Aaron, Mr. Pibbs.”

He smiled and gave the cat a nod. Mr. Pibbs chose to remain silent. “Have a seat,” I told him. “Do you mind if I go and at least brush my teeth?”

He grinned again and said, “I was hoping…” Silly sarcasm… It was a side of him I had glimpsed that day at the Christmas fair. I’d liked it then, and I liked it even more now.

I went in and got dressed and cleaned myself up. When I came back out, I found Aaron on the couch with Mr. Pibbs curled up in his lap.

“You’ve made the cut,” I told him. “Mr. Pibbs doesn’t usually like anyone but me.”

“He didn’t bother to ask me if I liked him before he climbed up here either,” Aaron said with a smile.

“I’m going to make some coffee, would you like some?”

“I’d love some,” he said.

“How about breakfast? Are you hungry?”

“The invitation only said “dinner.” I’d hate to impose…”

“Well, I’m starving. So, I think I’ll make some Belgium waffles and fruit. If I make more than was intended for only myself, maybe you’ll join me?”

“If it will help,” he said.

“Oh it would, very much. I hate to waste food.” I went into the kitchen and started making the coffee. I couldn’t stop smiling. I couldn’t believe he’d shown up. I was so happy. I had bought two steaks and two lobster tails… just in case, but I’d planned on keeping the other one frozen for New Years. I thought I was kidding myself that he would ever show up. Now, I was very glad that I’d been persistent.

“Cute kitchen,” I heard him say. I turned around and he was standing in the doorway. He had taken off his ugly sweater and was in a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

“Thanks,” I told him. “I like my cozy little apartment.”

“I like it too. And, it looks and smells very festive,” he said. It was funny, because he almost sounded like he approved of the festivity of it all. I finally had to ask.

“So what made you decide to show up? Didn’t you have an Island vacation planned somewhere?”

“I did. I should be basking in the sun in Belize by now. Instead, I’ve re-scheduled it. I have forsaken it for the snow and sleet and numb fingers and toes. But Robyn, this is your entire fault.”

“My fault?” I asked him, as innocently as I could.

He grinned and said, “You got under my thick skin somehow and I couldn’t resist. I had to find out what this Christmas stuff was all about for someone like you who loved it so much. If it’s still okay, I’d love to spend it with you.”

My mouth was stretched out into a permanent smile like I’d slept with a coat hanger in it. “It is absolutely okay,” I told him, excitedly. “Wait until you taste my waffles!”

We ate the waffles and fruit, making casual conversation about work and some of the projects Max had let me take on since I became his assistant supervisor. Aaron seemed impressed by the work I was doing and my knowledge of the company.

“So what did you do yesterday on Christmas Eve?” he asked.

“I went back to the fair and finished my shopping, I passed out the rest of my gifts and I visited my parents. Then Mr. Pibbs and I watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” and ate chocolate chip cookies until I passed out crying.”

He raised an eyebrow and said, “A movie called “It’s a Wonderful Life” made you cry?”

“Oh my goodness, you’ve never seen it, have you?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Well, then it’s on the agenda for today. It’s part of Christmas you can’t have Christmas without it.”

He laughed, “Okay, just keep me posted on the agenda as the day goes by. Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure…”

“I was just wondering about your parents.”

It had been seven years since I lost them, but it still hurt to talk about it. I poured myself another cup of coffee and said, “They both passed away when I was nineteen.”

“I’m sorry for your loss and for bringing it up. I was curious because you speak so highly of them, but you never mentioned they were deceased. I was certain you’d be with them on Christmas if you could.”

“Definitely, my parents were the best. I told you about me and my dad at Christmas. It was our favorite time of year. I don’t talk about them like they’re deceased because I still feel them so strongly in my soul that some

times I honestly let myself forget. I guess it’s just my way of coping.”

He nodded and said, “We all cope in different ways. Do you still do the Santa Claus thing or was my sweater an impulse buy?”

I laughed at that and said, “Definitely not an impulse buy. I put a lot of thought into it. I went to three different stores to get it just right.” He laughed again. I loved the sound of it. “I do still do the Santa thing,” I told him. “It wouldn’t be like Christmas without it.”

“So how do you do it? I mean decide how many to buy for and who and what and all of that?”

He sounded so sincerely interested. It was like he was from another planet and he wanted to know about our customs here. I was so happy to be the one that got to help him learn.

“First, since I’m now the financier, I decide how much is in my budget to spend. I have a special Christmas fund that I give to every month all year. I give to a few charities first and then use what’s left for my Santa project. Once I know how much funds I have available, I do just as my father taught me. I try to think of something that people I knew or saw daily needed dearly.”

“And you clearly saw that I needed an ugly sweater dearly…?”

“It was something that I’m sure you didn’t have and would never buy for yourself, right?”

“That’s for sure,” he said with a grin.

Then seriously I told him, “I saw that you needed a smile dearly. I was hoping to give it to you.”

“It worked,” he said. “I’ve been smiling since I opened it this morning.”

He was looking at me with that intense look that he got that made me just know he had feelings for me. I wanted to kiss him so badly. I wasn’t going to make the first move again though. The ball was in his court. I took a deep breath.

“Anyways, that’s how I do it.”

“It’s an amazing thing you do,” he said.

“You do the same. I passed out all of the gifts you bought, remember?”

“It’s not the same at all,” he said. “I don’t shop for the gifts or wrap them or hand them out. I suppose I only do it to assuage some of the guilt I have for ignoring Christmas the way that I do… So! What about this movie?” he said, changing the subject. I was hoping since he brought up his lack of knowledge about Christmas that he’d go on to tell me why he disliked it so much, but he was obviously not ready for that.

“Let’s go in the living room and I’ll put it on,” I told him. “Mr. Pibbs will probably refuse to watch it again. He’s a little snobby about it because it’s in black and white.”