The Billionaire's Christmas Proposal (Billionaire For Christmas #2)

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The Billionaire's Christmas Proposal (Billionaire For Christmas #2) Page 13

by Victoria James


  She was huddled in the alcove so she wasn’t in anyone’s way. She had waited inside forever, but there was no sign of Ethan. She knew what today was, and she was almost in semi-panic mode. Normally she would have taken in the pretty cityscape at Christmas time. Nearby businesses all had twinkling lights and greenery, the air smelled of exhaust…and of cinnamon…huh. She spotted the bakery on the street corner and promised herself that if he didn’t emerge from the building in half an hour, she’d get herself the most ginormous cinnamon bun money could buy.

  After Saturday night’s interrupted…whatever, Ethan had changed. His entire mood had shifted, and he was distant and preoccupied. Sunday morning he went out for his usual run, but this time when he came back home he just claimed he had a lot of work and spent most of the day in his office.

  Allie first thought it had something to do with his lawyer’s visit, but then she remembered that today was the infamous/mysterious D-Day on his calendar. She’d woken up extra early to try and have a moment with him, but he’d already been gone. She called his office from work at least half a dozen times, but was always told he was unavailable. She then decided she’d have to finagle some kind of information out of his receptionist Ann. Ann was notorious for being private, but after a quick call to Hannah, Allie found out some news: apparently, Ethan was inside the building at some kind of medical appointment. As soon as Allie finished up at the shelter she’d jumped on a streetcar to this address and had been waiting ever since.

  She glanced down at her watch and groaned. She was freezing, and he was nowhere in sight. She had texted him five times, and he normally always texted her back within minutes. Today? Silence. After five more minutes, she decided she’d pop into the bakery, grab her cinnamon bun, and then run back to her perch. And then when she saw Ethan, she’d make sure he was fine, and then she’d yell at him for not returning her texts.

  Ethan looked at his watch and was pissed to notice his hand was shaking slightly. He adjusted his tie and shifted in his seat as he waited for his doctor to arrive. He was running late. Well, he’d been here for over two freaking hours. The first half hour was his fault, because he’d arrived early. But the last hour and a half was pure torture. This was maybe the most torturous year yet and he knew why—a certain brunette that had a hold on his heart.

  Nicholas’s untimely arrival Saturday night had been a blessing of sorts, as much as he hated to admit it. He never should’ve kissed Allie, because he’d end up breaking her heart. Nicholas’s appearance reminded him of exactly why he couldn’t be involved with Allie. It would be underhanded of him. There was no way to reconcile his want to beat his brother and his feelings for Allie. He’d been dismissed long ago, but he was strong and the team of people he had working on this development would prove to be far superior to Carson’s.

  Now all he had to do was get a clean bill of health, which was reason number two he was glad things hadn’t gotten any farther with Allie. All his defenses had been down that night. Yes, he’d wanted her, that wasn’t the part that surprised him. It was the emotional level that floored him. Their conversation, her opening up to him, had rattled him. But he’d abandoned her after in favor of a meeting with his lawyer.

  Since moving in, he’d repeatedly failed her. First was Haven House. If she even knew how involved he was in that mess, she would probably kill him with her bare hands—or get her sister to do it. Second was acting like some sort of asswipe when he caught her in his office. And third was ditching her the night she’d made some roundabout plans with him, and he’d been too stupid to even realize it. But he didn’t want to share any of that with her. He didn’t even like remembering. He never even spoke of it, not to his family, not to his friends, and certainly not to Allie.

  Then again, if there were ever a person he could imagine telling, it would be her. He knew why she was so good at her job, why the kids gravitated to her. She had the wisdom of someone much older and the compassion of a saint. But the last thing he would want was her pity.

  He tensed as the sound of footsteps approached. Seconds later he was staring at the doctor he only saw once a year and looking for any signs of bad news. Before he could dwell, his doctor was smiling and sitting down with a sigh.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting, Ethan. I know you get worried about these tests. I’m happy to say everything looks good as usual. You couldn’t be in any better health.”

  The massive weight of the chains it felt like he’d been carrying the last month slowly eased, his body feeling lighter. He looked into his doctor’s familiar blue eyes, seeing the truth in them. “So, I guess this is it till next year?”

  Dr. Peterson slowly stood. “You have yourself a Merry Christmas, Ethan.”

  Ethan smiled, shook his hand, and left the room. This feeling, it happened to him every year, thankfully. He always came here alone despite his entire family knowing that this was what he did every year. No one had ever offered to come with him, and that was for the best. He didn’t like talking or sharing or feelings. Luckily neither did his parents or brother.

  He pressed the down button on the elevator repeatedly. While he waited for the elevator to arrive he pulled out his phone and noticed the missed messages from Allie, each getting more frantic with the last one in all caps, demanding he answer her. He stepped into the elevator, smiling.

  He frowned as he made his way to the lobby doors and noticed the familiar, gorgeous profile of a brunette standing outside, shoving a cinnamon bun in her mouth. She turned around and made eye contact with him the second he stepped foot on the sidewalk. She stood there, icing on the sides of her lips, her nose red, cheeks pink, and eyes that were filled with…tears.

  “Allie, what are you doing here?” He didn’t want her to know, he didn’t want to share that weakness; he didn’t like feeling exposed.

  She glared at him through her tears and waved her hand in front of her face, pointing to her mouth. It was currently on the verge of exploding. A second later she opened her mouth. “I remembered on your calendar that today was D-Day, and that’s a very ominous thing to write down, you know. I kept calling you at the office, but Ann refused to give me any info until finally Hannah gave me some pointers on finding out details. So I came here, not that I know where here is, but I’ve been freezing my ass off trying to be supportive and—”

  He kissed her, in the middle of the sidewalk, with the crowds bustling by. He kissed her because she was beautiful, she was real, and she actually, genuinely gave a shit about him. He kissed her and tasted the cinnamon, the sugar, and the woman. This would be his undoing—her following him here. He wanted to bury himself in her, absorb the sweetness she embodied. He wanted to feel her legs wrap around him and never let go; he wanted her to keep him here, forever, in this life with her. He wanted to let himself be the kind of man who needed another person. Allie was his greatest fantasy, his greatest weakness.

  “Come home with me,” he whispered against her lips.

  “I live with you.”

  “Where’s your sister?”

  “Sandra is no longer dead. They are BFFs again, so she’s over at her house.”

  “Let’s go.”

  “I feel like celebrating,” Ethan said as soon as they walked into his condo.

  Allie watched as he popped open a bottle of champagne.

  “So everything went…well?”

  “Better than well. Awesome.” He handed her a glass of champagne.

  “I’d love to say a toast, but I have no idea what we’re toasting because apparently you think I’m this moron who follows you around the city and does not deserve to be let into whatever…challenges you are facing.”

  He took a long drink. She waited.

  “Of course I don’t think you’re a moron. You’re the most perfect woman I’ve ever met,” he said, taking a step into her. She backed up and held up her hand.

  “Hold it right there. No attempts at charming me. I want the truth. All of it.”

  The muscles in his jaw
clenched a few times while his gaze locked onto hers, and she wondered if he was evaluating her or if he’d made up his mind already. “I know I can trust you,” he said gruffly. “There are things I can’t talk about to anyone.”

  “Am I just anyone?”

  She held her breath and realized his answer meant the world to her. “You are so much more to me than you could possibly know, Allie.” Ethan’s voice was low, raw, and she felt a warmth spread through her.

  “What’s D-Day?”

  He ran his hands through his already scruffy hair and swore softly, walking over to the windows. The moonlight and city lights illuminated his body as he stood there. He looked like an imposing figure, all hard lines and muscle.

  Ethan’s back was to her. Even the sight of the plump, fluffy snowflakes falling outside the window didn’t distract her. She couldn’t look beyond him or think of anything other than him and what he was about to tell her—if he actually told her. She sat down on the couch and drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, wanting to feel warm again.

  Ethan cleared his throat and finished off his champagne before setting his glass down on the side table. She didn’t think he’d turn to look at her, but he did. His hands were stuffed in his pockets. He looked completely beautiful and completely unapproachable. All the hard lines she’d admired were now taut with the tension of whatever it was he was holding in.

  “When I was eight I was diagnosed with leukemia.”

  A wave of goose bumps and nausea rushed over her. She had known on maybe some level, but she hadn’t wanted to be right. She wanted to go back to the way they were in bed. She wanted to see his face filled with intense passion or laughing. She didn’t want to hear this other voice. It was filled with a hardness she didn’t associate with Ethan.

  Tears filled her eyes immediately, but she forced herself to hold it all in. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, trying not to shake. For a second she wondered if she should approach him, but he looked too solitary, too standoffish to approach. He was looking straight into her eyes now, and she wouldn’t let him see her cry, so she blinked until she pulled herself together. Acid swirled around in her stomach. She searched for the right words, but shock kept her lips tightly closed. The books she’d seen in his office. It all made sense. Finally, she spoke the only words that came to her. “I’m sorry.”

  He gave an almost imperceptible shrug, but his brown eyes were locked onto hers and he stared, assessing. She had the uncomfortable feeling that he was assessing her reaction.

  “But you’re okay now, right?” she whispered after another tense moment.

  He walked over to the liquor cabinet and held up a bottle of scotch in her direction. She shook her head. “Still have nightmares from my spiked eggnog.”

  He almost smiled, but he turned from her and the sound of the liquid being poured into the crystal glass seemed to thunder in the quiet space. She had no idea if he was going to answer her question or just change the subject or walk out of the room. He took a long drink and then placed the empty glass on the end table. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “What’s D-Day?” She knew she was pushing, but he wasn’t offering. She felt as though she was so close to knowing this other Ethan, and if she didn’t uncover all of him now she never would.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and stood in front of the windows. He was all towering strength, at one with the backdrop of the city skyscrapers.

  “I go to a private clinic once a year to get complete blood work and scans done.”

  “Has there ever been…I mean, you were eight? What happened between then and now?”

  He lifted one hand to run through his hair. “I had to do chemo. I had to stay at the hospital. The usual crap.”

  Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. He’d barely told her a thing, yet he was telling her everything in his voice, in the hard lines of his stiff body. “But I got through it. Had to take medication for a couple years to make sure it didn’t come back, had to see doctors for a long time. I don’t think anyone in my family actually thought I was going to make it.”

  “Ethan—”

  “Everyone had written me off. The day I was diagnosed was the one that made me different from Carson, the day my father thought I wouldn’t be worth the time investment because who knew if I’d be around.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  “There are things about my family that took me a while to understand. Appearances are everything. But my mother and father have been living separate lives for years, and the whole family bond thing doesn’t really exist. My brother and I aren’t close. After being sick, it created a bigger divide.” He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re not like you and Dani. We see each other at family functions. He kisses my dad’s ass primarily so he can take over the family business.” He stopped talking abruptly.

  The vulnerability in his voice tugged at her until the tears came back. She remembered the picture in his office. “What about the little girl in the picture with you?”

  He rubbed his hand over his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut. “Cara. She had a brain tumor. We, uh, became really good friends. I corrupted her,” he said with a laugh. “Within days of becoming friends, I taught her how to sneak extra desserts from the kitchen, and taught her how to ride a skateboard down the hospital hallway.”

  She was trying to smile even though tears were rolling down her face. She swiped them as Ethan paused and took another drink. “You do have a way with the ladies,” she attempted to joke.

  He gave her a little half-smile. “She was in there a lot longer than I was. She had a special…” His voice trailed off, and he looked down. “Sort of like what you have. That warmth, that special glow. I guess I realized at an early age how to spot a winner,” he said with a short laugh. “I asked her to marry me while we were eating contraband Jell-O in the kids’ lounge.”

  Her voice was trapped and she stared at him, already knowing what he was going to say next even though she didn’t want to hear it.

  “What did she say?”

  One corner of his mouth curled up. “She agreed, but only after I begged for like a week. I also had to bribe her with Jell-O every day.”

  She laughed softly, picturing the two of them.

  His smile fell, and he downed the contents of his glass. “But, uh, Cara didn’t make it.”

  “I’m so sorry, Ethan.”

  He gave a nod, looking down.

  “The bracelet?”

  He nodded. “She gave it to me when I left the hospital.”

  She was not going to cry again. She wasn’t, even though she thought it was the sweetest thing in the world. Thinking of Ethan as this little boy going through cancer with indifferent and cold parents broke her heart. The whole image he portrayed to the world was not the man he really was. He had a sensitivity and compassion that made her heart ache.

  “And the prayer?”

  He ran his hands down his face with a sigh. “From Nurse Annie. Apparently I was a bit of a control freak, even at that point in my life. I would interrogate the doctors and nurses, and I was always really worried about Cara. I basically drove myself crazy and the medical staff as well.”

  “I can imagine,” she said, forcing a small smile.

  “One night, Annie came into my room and handed me that slip of paper. She asked me to read it aloud.”

  “And?”

  “I didn’t get it. I told her I didn’t believe in God. My parents didn’t believe in God. So I just thought her prayer was a nice gesture, and I thanked her.”

  “What did she say?”

  He gave the faintest hint of a smile. “She sat down on my bed and said that it was okay I didn’t believe in God, and that my family didn’t, and she didn’t want to make me feel bad. In my infinite wisdom at the age of eight, I told her no offense was taken, and I didn’t think any less of her for believing in fairy tales and omniscient beings. And then I told her I wouldn’t let her secret
out, because people might think less of her. It was a hospital filled with doctors and nurses and everyone believed in science and facts, so how could she possibly believe in something that had no scientific evidence? I was worried they’d hold it against her.”

  Allie shook her head, smiling.

  “I know, right?” he said to her with a small smirk. “Talk about ego.”

  “So what did she say?”

  He paused for a long time, staring up at the ceiling, his Adam’s apple bobbing a few times before he spoke. “She said, first off, she wasn’t ashamed in what she believed in, and that we should be proud of what we believe, even if others don’t agree. And then she said it didn’t matter if I believed in God or went to church, but that there are some points in a person’s life when the need to believe in something bigger, something greater, takes over. She said sometimes the burden of carrying it all alone just gets too great. She said it was okay, she was here for me now, but that when I was on my own again, if I ever needed comfort or if I ever lost my way or the burden was too great, all I needed to do was read these words and feel them, believe them.”

  Allie wiped the tears that fell onto her face. When his eyes locked onto hers, her heart squeezed when she saw the tears there.

  “I never thought I’d believe those words. I never imagined being weak enough to need a prayer or a belief in something greater.”

  She didn’t say anything, sensing he wasn’t finished.

  “When I found myself thinking about Cara, I read it. I was scared shitless of dying after I went back home, and I didn’t know who to talk to. So I’d go to bed with her bracelet and with the prayer. I take it with me every year when I go for my checkup.”

  “Do you still see Nurse Annie?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve never been back.”

  “You’ve never been back to SickKids?”

  “I had to go for follow-ups for a few years, but then after that, no. I just…I don’t want to go back. I make donations to them, but I can’t bring myself to revisit that time in my life when I was so vulnerable. I never want to feel that again, Allie.”

 

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