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Only a Kiss with a Billionaire

Only a Kiss with a Billionaire

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She prefers cookies and nights in with Netflix. He's famous and would rather be out on the town. Forced to stage a fake relationship will they keep running toward the past or into each other's arms?



  • Fake relationship
  • Opposites attract
  • Billionaire boss
  • Office Romance
  • Personal assistant
  • Enemies to lovers


She prefers cookies and nights in with Netflix. He's famous and would rather be out on the town. Forced to stage a fake relationship will they keep running toward the past or into each other's arms?

Emma plans to spend the holidays with a pint of ice cream to beat the breakup blues. But with her bank account bottoming out, she reluctantly takes on a Christmas Day gig at a gym and brings her tin of cookies as a plus one. At first annoyed by the big-shot owner’s flexing, Emma discovers he just might have the muscle she needs to work out her money problems…

Will’s playboy reputation is taking a serious toll on his growing exercise empire. Forced to fake a stable relationship, the sharp-witted and quirky Emma seems like the perfect quick fix. But as he trots the globe with the gorgeous girl who loves carbs more than him, he’s surprised to find himself sweating every staged kiss…

With Emma’s financial troubles on hiatus, she hopes to drag out her billionaire hate-love relationship for all its worth. But as their fake feelings turn into truth, lovers from their pasts threaten to blow the whistle.

Can Emma and Will ditch the charade and add some real weight to their relationship?

This is book 2 in the Only Us Billionaire Romance series. Each book stands alone but reading them in order provides a deeper, richer experience. It is a sweet, “clean and wholesome” romance without swearing or mature content and contains a happily ever after. If you like opposites-attract love, sweet chemistry, and a dash of clever suspense, then you’ll adore this heartwarming romance.

Chapter 1 Look Inside

Chapter 1: Emma

For Emma Jones, Christmas was not the most wonderful time of the year.

Not when she was alone.

Not when she was living on her sister’s couch.

Not when she had to start her new job on Christmas Day.

Not when she had a broken heart.

And definitely not when she was out of ice cream. She let out a long sigh, making a cloud with her breath as she poked through the freezer with its bags of frozen vegetables, boxed pizza, and unidentified bricks of food, hoping for some vanilla fudge ripple, chunky monkey, or cookie dough. Her sister was a baker, surely she had cookie dough ice cream.

“Emmaline Catherine Jones, what are you doing in the freezer at nine a.m.?” Penny scolded from the doorway.

Emma startled at the sound of her sister’s voice and in her haste to shut the freezer door, knocked herself in the head.

She reopened the door and reached for something cold so she didn’t get a bump.

“Oh no you don’t.” Penny rushed into the kitchen.

Penny rented a small apartment in New York City she lovingly referred to as the kitchen closet, so it wasn’t far to go. Her one requirement was the kitchen needed to have plenty of counter space, which she traded for space just about everywhere else. Emma was grateful to be able to stay on her sister’s couch after the company she briefly worked for filed for bankruptcy, but it was even more cramped than usual.

Not to mention the Christmas tree and decorations. In the background, L. Ryder’s version

All I Want for Christmas is You played for what seemed like the millionth time.

Emma cupped the side of her head. “I was getting ice. You saw that I’d closed—"

“I saw that you were going for another pint of ice cream.”

Penny’s hand was on her hip and she narrowed her eyes at her younger sister.

Emma tucked her head and responded with a bashful look.

“I just wanted to see if I needed to buy ice cream while I’m out.”

“You’ve gone through two cartons. In two days. Why don’t we bake cookies? Switch it up a little bit.” Penny suggested.

“Maybe get off the couch. Go for a run.”

In the past, a long run helped Emma forget about her worries, but lately, it only provided her more time to dwell on everything that had gone wrong.

“Then you’re not concerned about my waistline?” She felt the hint of laughter on her lips, a rarity when so often lately she found herself with a frown.

“No. If anything you could stand to gain a few pounds.”

Penny reached for a mixing bowl. It was well known between the sisters that baking helped ease her stress, but Emma wasn’t so sure that was the solution, especially right then.

“I can’t now. I have to head over to Apex.”

Clara, their mutual friend, received an amazingly fast response when she asked if there were any openings at the gym where she worked part-time. Apparently, they were desperate.

“Then we’ll bake when you get home. It’s Christmas, after all.” Penny opened her arms for a hug.

“Definitely.” Emma nuzzled into her sister’s familiar embrace, desperate for relief from the empty ache in her heart. She wanted something, anything—ice cream, cookies, Christmas carols—to provide relief, the more she reached out the more it reminded her of how very alone she was.

“There’s a deli with healthy options on the corner by the gym that should be open for lunch.”

Emma stuck her tongue out at Penny. “Okay, Mom. I’ll make sure I eat my veggies too.”
Penny wrinkled her nose back.

“If I were Mom, I’d tell you to find yourself a rich man and that probably won’t happen at the deli.”

“Or the gym,” Emma chimed.

Penny was only a year and a half older, but had a maternal softness that Emma appreciated—though not so much when they were younger.

Whereas their actual mother was somewhere in the Caribbean with her latest wealthy suitor and could only be relied upon to encourage the girls to marry for money.

Emma bundled up in her coat, hat, and scarf—all knit by their beloved grandmother who’d passed away. She hated being cold.

The Christmas carols in the background changed to the Twelve Days of Christmas.

Emma and Penny locked eyes and started singing. It was a tradition that whatever they were doing when that particular song came on, they had to stop and sing it in its entirety. They had it memorized and it would be stuck in their heads so over the years they’d change up the words. Then it got out of hand and they’d email each other a sound bite of the song, leave some snippet of the song in a voicemail and the other sister vowed to sing from the first day to the last, five golden rings and all.

When they got to the final verse, Emma took a deep breath. “Phew. Okay, I have to go or I’m going to be late.”

Penny glanced at the time and then her eyes widened. “Wait.

You have twenty minutes, and I have a great idea.”

“Can you tell me later? It’s my first day, I want to make a good impression.”

“The gym is two blocks away. You’ll be fine. Just listen. Plus, it has to do with your new job.”

Penny waggled her eyebrows.

Emma raised hers, unsure what her sister had up her sleeve.

“Christmas is the most romantic time of the year. Couples out strolling in the snow, kissing under the mistletoe…"

“Um, yeah. That’s a lovely scene, and if you recall I had that with—" She didn’t want reminders of Everett—the guy who broke her heart and her bank.

“Did you have that though?” Penny surveyed her sister.

Emma pulled her hat lower on her head.

“It’s time to move on. You’ve been sleeping on my couch and eating my ice cream for—" Penny started counting on her fingers.

“For two days.” Emma shifted from foot to foot.

“But six months before that, what were you doing?” Penny asked.

“It was seven months, a week, and two days.”

“You’re keeping track?”

“Penny, are you kicking me out?”

“No, I’m just giving you a kick in the pants. A jump-start…

Listen, I want to set you up with twelve dates. It will be like the twelve dates of Christmas, like the song. On the first date of Christmas…" she started singing.

“My true love? Penny, he—" Emma’s chin trembled at the thought of Everett.

“If he was your true love, he wouldn’t have—"

Emma’s shoulders caved and her throat felt thick.

“I want to see you happy again, or at least not miserable. You shouldn’t be the one suffering. Just give it some thought. You might meet some hot, ripped gym guy. That could be date number one.”

No way. Not going to happen.

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