The Billionaire's Christmas Son - Leslie North Page 0,23

handed him. He ripped the paper away piece by piece, then hugged the cardboard box to his chest.

The box. “Can I help you open that up?” Jonas asked, laughing, but Scott wouldn’t let him have it. “It’s a ball,” he told Rachel. “I have something for you, too.”

“Jonas, you really don’t—”

He reached across Scott and pulled a package from underneath the tree. “Open it.”

She bit her lip and ripped open the paper, revealing a cozy sweater with an elk across the front. Rachel threw her head back and laughed, gorgeous in the twinkling light. “I’m putting this on right now. Thank you.” Her eyes met his with incredible warmth, and then she was pulling it on, tugging it down over her shirt.

“We need a picture,” Jonas announced when Rachel was ready.

She pulled Scott into her lap and grinned, and he turned to sit next to them. He knew in that instant that he would always remember the sound of Rachel’s laughter as he took the photo.

“Aww, it’s good,” she said, leaning close as they looked at the photo on his phone. “We look happy.”

Nobody was happier than Scott, who marveled at the two other gifts. The paper held a certain fascination for him—probably the sound of it ripping—and he demolished the gifts down to their wrapping. One was a teddy bear that sang when you pushed its foot, and it was still in its cardboard packaging.

Scott wouldn’t let Jonas have it to cut it free of the plastic ties. Instead, he tucked it under his arm and carried it around, cardboard and all, while he ran in circles around the living room. Every second or third pass, he stopped again by the tree to lean in and see the lights.

Joy.

It was pure joy, and Jonas leaned back on his hands, marveling at the sight. Every heartbeat pulled him closer until he felt overwhelmed with emotion. The lightness in his chest—it had to be love. There was no other explanation. It was as piercing and as true as anything he’d ever felt.

He took Rachel’s hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles.

She gasped. “Jonas?”

“Thank you.” He looked into her eyes as he said it. It was as if all the electricity in the universe had centered between the two of them. “Thank you so much for coming over.”

“I—” She blinked, cheeks flushing. “You’re welcome.” She squeezed his hand. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about Christmas.”

“I feel strongly about you,” he said. “About both of you having a good Christmas.”

“This is lovely,” she whispered, then cleared her throat.

He couldn’t let them leave. Or—he couldn’t let them leave without at least offering them space in his home. They belonged here. “Please stay for the night,” he asked, losing all the cool that usually accompanied him to his job and through his life.

“Where would Scott sleep?” Her teeth gnawed at her lower lip. “I don’t know if there’s a safe space for him here, and I don’t want you to have to rearrange your entire life just to fit us in.”

“My entire life.” He laughed. “I had a crib brought over from the lodge. It’s already in my spare bedroom.”

Scott stopped by the tree and rubbed at his eyes, a good indication they needed to fix dinner. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be ready for bed. Rachel rubbed his back in small circles, then gathered him in.

One quick macaroni dinner later, he was ready for his PJs and bedtime. “Time to lie down,” Rachel said softly as she carried him to the bedroom.

Jonas hung back, watching as she pulled a spare pair of PJs from the diaper bag, changed him, and then helped him brush his teeth. He dropped a kiss on Scott’s forehead, letting Rachel lay him down in the crib. When she started to sing him a lullaby, Jonas stepped down the hall and took a seat at the edge of his bed.

A few minutes later, Rachel appeared in the doorway, looking as luscious as he’d ever seen her, a fire in her eyes. She came in confidently, pushing his knees apart to stand in the space between his legs. “Thank you for all the gifts,” she said, heat in her voice. “But, Jonas?”

His breath stopped. “Yeah?”

“There’s something else I want to unwrap.”

He put his hands on her waist. “What is it?”

“You.”

10

The fact was—Rachel wanted him.

She’d wanted him from the moment she first saw him three years ago, and she wanted him now, and this man—this man—had created a