Merry Elfing Xmas Read Online Loni Ree

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Billionaire, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 14955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 75(@200wpm)___ 60(@250wpm)___ 50(@300wpm)
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“Not happening,” she grumbles under her breath before heading back to the huge Christmas tree.

I allow my curvy little elf to walk away, but I’m not letting her get away for long. She owns me, heart and soul, and now she’s stuck with me.

“Have you lost your mind?” Easton steps next to me and follows my eyes.

“Yes,” I tell him simply. “Over her. I want to know everything about the little elf.”

Easton doesn’t even blink at my statement. He knows me better than anyone. Since meeting as toddlers at nursery school, we’ve been inseparable. We attended the same high school and university. After college, we used our business degrees to start W & R Investments. Our company steadily grew to be one of the largest investment firms in the country.

“Miracles never cease.” My best friend shakes his head, looking between Noelle and me. “I never thought I’d see the day that a woman could melt the ice running through your veins.”

Exactly. Now, I need to convince my little elf to give me a chance.

The rest of the night, I keep an eye on my girl, making sure no other man gets too close. I originally planned to make a quick appearance at this party and then disappear, but meeting Noelle changed everything. I’m not willing to miss a moment with her.

It kills me to walk away at the end of the night, but I know I need time to think and make plans. Winning my curvy little elf just became the most important acquisition I’ve ever made, and I don’t want to jump in blind.

On the way back to the hotel, I arrange for our in-house investigator to find out everything there is to know about my girl.

Chapter 2

Noelle

Oh my. Mr. Citified Scrooge is hot. Steaming, burn-you-if-you-look-too-long hot. Wow. “Are you okay?” Mr. Elkins glances over at me with a frown on his face. “Are you too hot?” He points at my heated cheeks. “Your cheeks are all red.”

I’ve been having the dirtiest thoughts ever since the two men walked in the door. If you looked up tall, dark, handsome, and full of himself in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of Grey Woodward. The flames glowing in his icy blue eyes send little sparks skittering along my nerves. His perfectly styled chocolate brown hair makes me want to run my fingers through it to mess it up. The tiny bit of stubble covering Mr. Citified Scrooge’s square jawline takes him from smoking hot to blazing.

I glance at Mr. Elkins and croak out, “I think I need something cold to drink. It’s awfully hot in here.” That’s an understatement. I reach up and run my palms over my stinging skin, hoping to soothe away some of the redness caused by the hottie.

While my boss holds down the fort, I race over to the refreshments table and grab a glass of punch. After downing the first glass, I pour another one and slowly make my way back to the large Christmas tree, feeling Grey Woodward’s eyes follow me the entire way.

Oh boy. I’m in trouble here. I’m used to dealing with demanding nine-year-old kids, not handsome men who think they’re God’s gift to women.

“I hope you’re not catching the cold going around school.” Mr. Elkins, my boss, shakes his head. “I’m running out of substitute teachers.”

“I never get sick,” I reassure him while a little voice in the back of my mind tells me I just jinxed myself.

I have taught fourth grade at Blue Spruce Elementary since graduating from college two years ago, and I’ve never called in sick. Hopefully, my good luck holds, and I can keep up my healthy streak.

“I can’t believe those jerks came to the party,” Mr. Elkins grumbles. “After they stole Santa’s Shoppe from the town.” Our small town has been in an uproar for weeks, ever since the large investment firm from Los Angeles announced their intention to buy the local business.

I’ve lived in Blue Spruce my entire life. Matter of fact, you can trace my family back to the early eighteen-hundreds, when my great-great-great-great grandfather moved here. The small midwestern town is known for its love of holidays and its unwelcoming attitude toward outsiders. Everyone knows everyone, and all their business, too.

Late last year, Old Mr. Rudolph suddenly died, leaving the fate of the Santa’s Shoppe factory up in the air. All the town residents pooled their funds, hoping to buy the factory and its Little Miss Suzy doll patents. Before they were able to complete the sale, a huge company from Los Angeles stepped in and snatched the toy factory right out from under the local investors. The entire situation caused an uproar in our normally boring town that I’ve been trying to avoid, but I couldn’t find a way to get out of this freaking party.


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