Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 277

Chapter 277

“My God, it’s freezing,” I muttered, yanking my scarf up so high it nearly covered my whole nose as the English countryside blurred past the car window. The sky was completely overcast, that heavy gray that promised snow any minute, and the fields stretched endlessly on both sides of the road, dotted with tiny stone cottages that looked straight out of a fairy tale.

“Are you warm enough?” Nate asked, giving me a quick glance before focusing on the road again. “I can turn the heat up.”

“No, it’s fine,” I said, shifting in the passenger seat. “I’m just not used to this December cold yet. Back home, December is summer-beach weather, asphalt-melting heat.”

“And do you miss it?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted, watching a small medieval church appear in the distance. “But there’s something about this scenery that’s… magical. Feels like I’m in one of those British romance movies. All we need now is for it to start snowing when we get to Bath.”

Nate laughed—a warm, low sound that made my stomach flip the way it always did.

“Careful what you wish for,” he teased. “The weather’s perfect for it. And my mother would be absolutely delighted if it snowed on Christmas. She always says it’s the finishing touch for the holidays.”

Just thinking about his family made my stomach tighten in that familiar nervous knot. I’d spent the entire week imagining how this first meeting would go-everything from cozy acceptance to polite-but-undeniable rejection, depending on the version playing in my head.

“Tell me about Tori again,” I said, turning slightly to face him better. “You’re absolutely sure she’s not going to instantly hate me?”

“Annie,” Nate said, slipping into that patient tone he used whenever my anxiety kicked in. “She’s not going to hate you. Tori can be… particular about certain things, but she’s not a bad person. And even if she were, it wouldn’t matter.”

“How would it not matter?” I asked, frowning.

“Because I’m not bringing you home for my family to approve of you,” he said, reaching over with his right hand to take mine, keeping the left on the wheel. “I’m bringing you because I want you to be part of my life. Completely. And they’re just going to have to adjust.”

I laced my fingers through his, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine.

“Very confident, Mr. Carter.”

“When it comes to you? Always.” He lifted our joined hands and brushed a quick kiss across my fingers before returning his hand to the wheel.

We drove in comfortable silence for a while, the landscape shifting bit by bit as we left London behind. Villages grew more frequent, the houses older and more ornate, each one carrying a sense of history I could practically feel.

“I’m hungry,” I announced when my stomach growled loud enough to echo. “And I need to stretch my legs.”

“Perfect timing,” Nate said, pointing ahead. “The Crown & Anchor. My parents used to stop here with us when we were kids and they’d take us on trips around the area.”

The pub looked exactly like the kind of traditional English place I’d pictured-an old stone façade, small thick- paned windows, and a wooden sign swinging gently in the cold breeze. The moment we stepped inside, we were greeted by the comforting warmth of a crackling fireplace and the rich smell of beer, burning wood, and something that definitely involved steak and pastry.

“I’m just going to run to the bathroom real quick,” Nate said, kissing my forehead. “Order us something to eat? Anything is fine.”

I nodded and made my way to the counter, where a friendly bartender greeted me with a warm smile.

“Good afternoon. What can I get for you?”

“Good afternoon,” I said. “Do you have anything quick to eat? We’re just passing through.’

“Of course. Our chicken and mushroom pie just came out of the oven, and we’ve also got ham-and-cheese sandwiches on homemade bread.”

“The pie sounds perfect,” I said, returning his smile. “Two portions, please.”

While I waited, I leaned against the bar and took in the place. A few locals were scattered around the tables, talking quietly about everyday things, and the atmosphere was exactly the cozy pub vibe I’d always imagined England would have.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” a male voice said beside me.

I turned to see a man about my age, blond hair a bit mussed, an easy smile on his face. Nothing threatening about him-just genuine curiosity.

“No,” I replied politely. “Just passing through.’

“Figured,” he said. “American?”

“Verdanian, actually.”

“Oh!” His eyes brightened. “Verdania! Must be very different from here. Much warmer, I imagine.”

“A bit,” I laughed, amused by his enthusiasm. “Especially this time of year.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then that’s her problem, not ours,” he said, firm but calm. “You don’t need to impress anyone, Annie. You just have to be yourself.”

We passed a sign reading Bath – 5 miles, and my stomach flipped like it was trying to roll out of the car.

“What’s the house like?” I asked, desperate for a distraction.

“Big, but cozy,” he said with a little smile. “My mom is obsessed with plants, so there are pots everywhere. My dad leaves music sheets scattered across the piano.”

We started weaving through the more central part of Bath, down narrow streets lined with Georgian buildings that looked like they’d been preserved in amber. Even in the dark, I could see how timeless the architecture was.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, watching the softly lit windows and the understated Christmas decorations along the streets.

“Wait until you see it during the day,” Nate said. “I’m taking you to all my favorite places tomorrow.”

Finally, we turned onto a residential street, and Nate slowed, pulling up in front of a house that looked breathtaking even in the dark. Three stories of light stone, big elegant windows, and Christmas décor that managed to be festive without feeling overdone.

We sat there for a few seconds, me staring at the warm glow behind the curtains, silhouettes moving inside.

“Ready?” he asked, already reaching for the door handle.

I took a deep breath, staring once more at the house where I’d spend my first English Christmas.

“No… but let’s do it anyway.”

Nate smiled, got out, and came around to open my door. When I stepped out, he took my hand and didn’t let go.

“Together,” he said simply.

“Together,” I echoed.

And hand in hand, we walked toward the front door, leaving behind the safety of the car and stepping into what I knew would be a whole new chapter in our relationship.