The Billionaire's Christmas Bride

by Lara Hunter

  Several people in the crowd gasped. Grace’s eyes grew wide as she assessed him, noting the strength of his shoulders, the straightness of his back as he took a stand in the name of what was right. He’d never been more attractive to her.

  “You see, when I asked Grace to marry me, I didn’t do it out of love. I did it because I was single-mindedly pursuing my inheritance. That’s the reason why we’re all here today. Because I’m a selfish, materialistic ass.”

  Several of Michael’s employees tittered at that, clearly unaccustomed to hearing their boss being so honest about himself.

  Michael stepped down to the aisle, where he addressed the employees further. The justice of the peace sighed, his stomach rumbling beneath his belt. “This is not good,” he muttered toward Marie, but she only shrugged her shoulders, eager to hear what Michael had to say.

  “I met Grace when I was eighteen years old,” Michael continued, his voice confident, assured. “I was such a hopeful kid, with only abstract dreams about starting this company. I told Grace about them, knowing full-well that there was an easier route open to me, alongside my father, taking over his business. But she told me to listen to my gut. And so, I did. And we began Johnston Technologies from the ground up. Some of you were there with me from the beginning, and I thank all of you for believing in me, and for trusting in my gut, all those years ago.”

  Some of the men in the crowd nodded earnestly, hanging on their boss’ every word. It was clear that Michael did not reveal his emotions so often. This appreciation of their value was a shock.

  “Since Grace came back into my life, I’ve been shocked at how little I’ve listened to my gut in the years since I started this company, and especially in the years since my father died,” he continued. “I shut down and flung myself into my work. I demanded far more of all of you than you had to give. And I’m guessing that probably affected some of your personal lives, outside of the office. And for that, I am truly sorry.”

  “If I hadn’t met Grace again, only a few weeks ago, I never would have remembered all the wonderful emotions I used to feel—especially those I had when I first laid eyes on her as an eighteen-year-old kid. If I hadn’t seen her again, and if we hadn’t fled to Vermont last weekend to recreate that moment, I might have spent the rest of my life living the existence my father always wanted to save me from. I wouldn’t have allowed myself to experience the beauty of love.”

  Grace felt her heart leap in her chest at the mention of love. She’d felt it brimming around them in Vermont. It was clear that Michael had needed a few days to process his emotions. And now, he was overflowing, bursting with love. He wanted to shout it across the room, from the tops of mountains.

  He turned toward Grace, then, his eyes swimming with tears. “Grace. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. From the minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you were going to be part of my life story. And I will spend the rest of my life thanking fate for bringing us back together again.” He blinked rapidly, trying to push back the tears in his eyes.

  Grace took a step toward him, wanting to wrap her arms around him. Her red lips parted, preparing.

  But suddenly, before she could speak, Michael got down on one knee, gazing up at her earnestly.

  Grace put a hand to her mouth. Her eyes widened, matching Michael’s as they pooled with tears. She hadn’t imagined what this day would bring. She’d felt only doom when marching down the aisle, unable to meet his gaze.

  But now, everything had flipped on its head.

  “Grace,” Michael breathed. “I’ve made a million and one mistakes in my life. Today is the day I get to begin correcting them. I love you. I love you more than I ever knew I could love, in this terrible icicle my heart had become. And I can’t believe I get to say this to you, here, as you stand in the most gorgeous dress, the most perfect woman in the world.”

  Grace blinked rapidly, watching as he lifted his hands toward her. The moment their palms touched, electricity shot up and down her arms and legs, almost causing her to fall to her knees. Her lips parted once more, searching for questions. Could this possibly be real?

  “I don’t care about the money,” Michael affirmed then, cutting through her waves of questions. “I’ll give it all up, if only you’ll be my bride next Christmas, a year from now. We’ll do it properly. We’ll invite the people you love, not just my ragtag crew of computer scientists. Not that I don’t love all of you dearly…” he added, causing the crowd to laugh heartily.

  Grace smiled, her dimples deepening in her cheeks. She held his gaze for several moments, basking in the sincerity of his words.

  “You really mean it, don’t you?” she breathed.

  “I’ve never meant anything more,” he whispered. “You’ve shown me what a terrible idiot I’ve become, Grace. And I want to spend the rest of my life becoming good enough for you.”

  Grace’s eyelids fluttered. She felt her love for him glide over her like a sunbeam. She urged him upward, toward her, and she flung her arms around his neck, kissing him on the mouth.

  She loved this man more than she’d ever loved anyone. And she’d known, even when he’d marched into her office, that she would one day reveal the tender soul that still lingered beneath his hardened, adult shell.

  “So you’ll do it?” he whispered to her, cutting their kiss short.

  She nodded, grinning, tipping her nose against his. “I’ll marry you next Christmas,” she whispered. “Of course I will.”

  “She’ll do it!” Michael cried. “She’s going to marry me!”

  The crowd leaped up from their chairs, overjoyed in spite of their confusion. They clapped and cheered over the Christmas music, whispering to each other that they’d never seen an engagement at a wedding before.

  They peered up at the kissing couple, whose arms were still locked around the other’s body, brimming with passion and life. And they collectively sighed, hopeful that they’d one day find a love as deep and powerful as theirs.

  After a long moment, Michael broke the kiss. He yelled out over the crowd, his eyes bright. “The reception’s still on! We’ll party till Christmas!”

  With that, several reception hall workers scampered toward the chairs, lifting them, and placing several tables toward the outskirts of the hall. They changed the playlist to upbeat party music and quickly set up the bar, with four bartenders and a massive collection of wine, spirits and beer. The workers lined up and ordered their drinks, smiles spreading across their faces.

  Grace peered up at her fiancé, hardly able to believe her luck. Her cheeks ached with happiness. She pressed her forehead to his, feeling the warmth of his skin, and whispered to him. “This is the happiest day of my life.”

  “We’re about to make many, many more memories together,” he told her. “I’m delegating some of my responsibilities to Joey, making him vice president of Johnston Technologies. That way, I’ll have more time for us. We can build a life together. We can start a family, if you want to.”

  Another tear rolled down Grace’s cheek. Her eyes darted out toward the crowd, where she saw Marie standing with two men, holding a glass of wine, her head back, laughing. She felt that everything she’d ever wanted was coming together.

  “I didn’t know I could be this happy,” she breathed.

  Michael kissed her again, holding her close before they turned to the dance floor, spinning around each other, and sipping drinks, having a glittering time, the stress of the sham wedding long forgotten. The night was one of the best Grace had ever had.

  Sometime after midnight, Michael helped her and her massive dress into the back of his driver’s car, and they swept toward his penthouse apartment, kissing as the Christmas lights of the city glittered around them. He led her to the apartment, holding her soft hand, and kissing her playfully, catching her lips with his.

  Michael’s apartment looked out over the park. Grace leaned against the windowpane, crossing her arms tightly, her shoulders shaking with chill. Michael wrappe
d his arms around her from behind and held her close, kissing the nape of her neck.

  “I want our wedding to be with my family,” Grace breathed. She turned, her skirts twirling at her feet. “And our very best friends. I want to feel their love wrap around us. I don’t want it to feel cold, walking down the aisle. Not like it was today.”

  Michael nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. “I can’t wait to meet all of them. I can’t wait to see where such a wonderful woman came from. It’s hard to believe this is really happening. How do I deserve you?”

  He kissed her again, leading her toward the bedroom. He helped her undo her bodice, allowing the dress to fall to the floor, a sea of glittering fabric. Grace stood naked, glowing, before him. He could hardly catch his breath. His eyes traced her curves and looked upward, catching her own, dark irises. “My fiancée,” he breathed.

  He wrapped his muscled arms around her torso and drew her to the bed, where they collapsed in a sea of kisses, of love. They wrapped their limbs around each other, finally allowing their true emotions to soar above all other feelings. They stomped out feelings of fear or anxiety about their pasts. All they had was Christmas, and the hope and rebirth it brought with it.

  When it was over, Grace breathed in his ear. “I love you, Michael. Merry Christmas.”

  Michael laughed, returning the words. “I love you, too. And no matter what happens, I think Christmas will always be a sacred holiday for us. It was when we met, it was when we came back together, and it will be when we’re married, next year. I must be the luckiest man in the world.”

  They collapsed in a heap, allowing half of Christmas Day to float away before they finally arose. They didn’t have presents for each other, but it didn’t matter. They cooked breakfast, sizzling bacon and eggs in a skillet, and they giggled, joking, in their pajamas, finding pure happiness with one another, one they’d begun building over a decade before.

  SIXTEEN

  The following Christmas Eve, Grace stood in the hall of her family’s church in Maine, dressed in a simple, tasteful wedding gown, and holding onto a gorgeous bouquet her mother had helped her pick out. Her mother, Cara, stood in a festive red gown, her eyes filled with tears. She paced around her daughter, talking through a list of reception reminders, ensuring they hadn’t missed anything.

  “Do you think it’ll be okay?” she asked her daughter, her eyebrows high over her wrinkled eyes. “It’s been a while since I did all this. Wedding stuff is never easy. You just have to cross your fingers and hope it all works out.”

  Grace grinned, bringing her palm over her mother’s shoulder. “Trust me, Mom. After everything Michael and I have been through, I have to believe everything will work out. It’s destiny.”

  “But the appetizers—”

  “Will be fine,” Grace breathed.

  Down the hallway, they heard the clattering heels of Grace’s maid of honor, Marie. She appeared in her gold dress, her lipstick slightly smudged.

  Grace tilted her head, giving her a knowing glance. “I don’t suppose you were off with Joey just now?” she asked, her tone teasing.

  Marie grinned. She pressed her fingers to her lipstick, shrugging. “I just wanted to say goodbye before the ceremony.”

  In the previous year, since the cancelled sham ceremony, Marie had begun dating Michael’s friend and vice president, Joey. They were a remarkable power couple, with many of the same attributes as Grace and Michael. They took turns letting their partners, Marie and Joey, supervise their companies when they wanted to go out of town, and vice versa, knowing that they could trust them wholly.

  “Your father finally got into his suit,” Grace’s mother said. “He’s really looking good. Lost ten pounds this month. I refused to make Christmas cookies until after the wedding.”

  Grace giggled. She glanced through a small crack in the church door, noting that her twin brothers, Edgar and Tommy, were standing up at the front with Michael. In the audience, her oldest brother, Nick, sat with his wife, Laura, and their almost 13-year-old son, Everett, who had been born the day after she and Michael first met. She shivered, oddly nervous to say that she’d practically married Michael once before. But this time it meant far more.

  Over the past year, Grace had felt like she was living a dream. Michael had become her life partner, her best friend. She spoke with him about everything, bounced ideas off of him, and even survived buying some furniture with him, when they’d decided to move in together. They didn’t agree on everything, but they knew how to argue. Their points were addressed, their feelings were met with understanding, and they always ensured they made up before they went to bed.

  The church organist struck his first, haunting chord, beginning the ceremony. Grace’s eyes grew wide, searching the faces of Marie and her mother, watching anxiously as they marched down the aisle before her, holding their beautiful bouquets. Their long, festive dresses swept behind them, revealing just the tips of their toes. They smiled broadly, Marie making intense eye contact with her beau, Joey, who sat in the second row. He winked back at her.

  The organist changed the tune from a traditional melody to “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” which Grace had decided to walk down the aisle to. The moment the music began, she felt tears spring to her eyes. Her father appeared by her side and offered his elbow to her, which she accepted, grasping on firmly.

  “Thank you for doing this, Dad,” she whispered. “It means the world to have you all here with me.”

  “We wouldn’t miss it for the world, honey,” her dad whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.

  As they walked, Grace’s eyes met with Michael’s. She was reminded of the moment she first spotted him, from across the parade, as she’d stood with her father and mother. She’d waved to him with her white, gloved hand, hoping, beyond anything, that he’d come see her. She hadn’t realized how much that moment would change her life.

  At the top of the aisle, she passed her bouquet to Marie, and she took hold of Michael’s hands, feeling their warmth and assurance. The same pastor who had baptized her thirty-one years before began the ceremony, blessing them both, and walking them through their vows.

  “Do you promise to love and cherish this woman, from now until forever?” the pastor asked, his voice dignified.

  “I do,” Michael answered. His eyes overflowed with emotion. “This is the happiest day of my life,” he breathed in Grace’s ear, just for her to hear.

  “With that, you may kiss the bride,” the pastor affirmed.

  With zealous energy, Michael and Grace joined together in their first kiss as husband and wife. Grace wrapped her arms around his neck, and he lifted her into the air, her heels sweeping up behind her in a flourish. She felt her heart lift with joy, with adoration for everything they were and everything they could be. She could feel the magic of the next five decades, waiting in her bones.

  The organist launched into “O Little Town of Bethlehem” as the new couple turned toward their family and friends and began to walk down the aisle together, united as one.

  Outside the church, in the moment before she boarded the limousine waiting to whisk them to the reception hall, Grace caught her mother’s eye. Cara was weeping full-force, but she seemed happier than Grace had ever seen her. She knew her mother sensed the love between her and Michael.

  “It was what I always hoped for you,” her mother had affirmed the previous evening, at the rehearsal dinner. “Someone to look at you the way your father looks at me. Thank you for waiting for your Prince Charming, Gracie. So many people settle. But not you, my girl. Not you.”

  At the reception hall, Grace and Michael sat at the head of a long table, laughing with their family and friends over a remarkable Christmas Eve dinner of duck, potatoes and copious amounts of wine and champagne. On the stage, a band played jaunty Christmas songs, and a curvy singer purred into the microphone, jazzing up each tune.

  As Grace and Michael sat together, holding hands and sipping champagne, Grace
’s oldest nephew arrived beside them, wearing a suit that looked slightly too big for him, his smile lined with braces.

  “Oh, Michael. I don’t think you met Everett last night,” Grace said, wrapping the boy in a firm hug.

  “Everett,” Michael said, greeting him with a firm handshake. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

  Their nephew grinned sheepishly. “Mom said that if I hadn’t been born, you guys would have gotten married a long time ago,” he stammered.

  “Is that so?” Michael said, eyeing Grace.

  “Everett was the baby who was born on that fateful day,” Grace laughed. She grabbed Everett’s nose, making him blush beet red. She supposed at the age of thirteen, everything that happened to you was embarrassing.

  “I suppose it all worked out in the end, though, no thanks to you,” Michael winked. “And if you ever want to come down to New York for the weekend, you know you can come stay with us. I’m your uncle now, and you might just be my favorite nephew.” He eyed the other kids, who were all between the ages of one and eight, digging into their mashed potatoes with their fingers, yelling for no reason.