Page 15 of A Prince for Christmas

“Straight ahead, and right on the third street. He’s on the left, Miss.”

“Thank you.”

I’d known that we had a couple of gated communities in Bozeman, but I’d never expected that Nick, or any MSU students, to live in them. Especially not someone who needed a job at Wayward Wings. Our tips sure as heck didn’t pay for this.

I’d sort of reconciled my image of Nick with the gated community by the time I pulled up in his driveway. He was suave and gentlemanly, after all. His house was a large, two-story home. What MSU student could afford a house like that? Maybe he had a bunch of roommates. No, I couldn’t imagine the homeowners’ association approving something like that. Did he have a family he hadn’t told me about? How old was this guy, anyway, and what did I really know about him?

I wasn’t about to walk up to his door and knock, so I texted him that I was outside. Nick appeared promptly with two large, overstuffed bags. He waved at me before disappearing back into the house. This time, he came out with two more pieces of oddly shaped luggage.

I wasn’t sure, but it looked like he stopped and talked with an unseen person right inside the doorway. For all I knew, he had a wife and kids!

No, that couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be leaving them to spend Christmas on a ranch with strangers. Maybe he was just keying in a security code.

“Do we have enough room for all this?” he asked as he got to the car with the four overstuffed bags.

“Sure, it’s a Blazer. We can fit anything into it,” I replied, opening the back of the vehicle. “Are you planning on moving in with my parents, or did you pack three outfits for each day?”

Nick blushed a little. “Of course not. It would be rude to show up without gifts for your family, since they’re taking me in for so long. And I wanted to bring a little touch of England to the celebration, so I ordered a few things from home and talked Tommy into cooking up a real Christmas pudding.”

“You didn’t have to do all that,” I said with a smile. “My family is just happy I’m not bringing Fred home for Christmas.”

“Not as happy as I am.” His blue eyes sparkled.

As we both climbed into the front of the Blazer, I asked, “So, who’s Tommy?”

“He’s my…” Nick paused a long moment before continuing. “My manservant.”

Now, I was really confused. “Manservant?”

“Butler. Housekeeper. Occasional cook. I don’t know the American word for it.”

Rich, I thought. The American word for having hired help was rich, which my family most definitely was not. My heart sank. If he was accustomed to that style of living, he was going to be in for a big disappointment at my house. I had no idea how to respond, or even how to think about someone who had their own personal servant, so I concentrated on driving.

“He’s flying home for Christmas,” Nick explained. “Don’t worry, he won’t be alone for the holidays if I go to yours.”

I tried to brush away the thoughts of what a big mistake I was making by bringing him to my family’s ranch. He would have been alone otherwise, so maybe he wouldn’t judge me too harshly for being an ordinary American. “I need to gas up before we leave town for the drive,” I said briskly. “Want to pump the gas or get the snacks?”

It took him a second to answer, and I would swear that he was doing some kind of internal calculation. “I’ll pump. Regular or premium?”

“Regular,” I said with a smile. “What kind of snacks do you like?”

“Something American.” He grinned. “I’m a tourist, after all.”

As I headed into the store, I did the math. He was paying for gas, bringing food, and delivering presents. He had to like me, otherwise why go to so much trouble to impress my family? Or was he just so rich that he did this with everyone he knew?

Having no idea what kind of snacks he would want for the drive out to the ranch, I got all my favorites, as well as each of my sisters’ favorites—Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, Gas Station Pizza, Pringles, Christmas tree-shaped chocolate-covered marshmallows, and hot chocolate to keep us cozy on the drive. I scurried across the parking lot, the icy wind whipping tiny snowflakes against my cheeks. When I was at the car, arranging the snacks as best I could around the middle console, Nick leaned in from where he was getting gas.

“Now that’s a feast,” he said. “Probably what I would have been eating for Christmas dinner had I not gotten such a generous invite.”

I straightened up and started around the Blazer to get in the driver’s side, but before I could, I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of a family figure. What were the chances, and why, oh why, hadn’t I picked some other gas station?

I stopped at the open driver’s side door when Fred waved at me from the next pump, where he was filling up. He had a blonde in the passenger’s seat of his truck. He stepped away from it to sneer at me. “I see you’ve replaced me quick enough.”

I couldn’t help myself.

“Wasn’t hard to replace you.” I wanted to stop, but I just couldn’t help myself. “There was a line hoping I’d see you for what you are.”

That was a lie, and it didn’t make me feel better the way I thought it would.