Baby's First Christmas. Laura Marie Altom

Baby's First Christmas - Laura Marie Altom


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sense, of course.”

      He’d forgotten how his wit never disarmed her—she could come right back with her own zinger. “I’m surprised you could find your way back here without a trail of bread crumbs or something.”

      She pulled a checked cashmere scarf from her neck. “The taxi driver didn’t have any trouble finding the Forrester ranch.”

      She wouldn’t even admit that she knew exactly where he lived—er, where her car was. He narrowed his gaze on her. “Make yourself at home, I guess, since you’re here.”

      “Thank you.” Sitting gingerly across from the tree, she studied his efforts. “Just getting started?”

      He’d been at this chore all afternoon. “Yes. I suppose your tree is up and looks like Mrs. Claus decorated it personally.”

      Jessie blinked. “I never did ask you how Brahma Bud was. I hope he didn’t suffer any effects from hitting my car.”

      Zach crossed his arms, taking in the delicate bones of her face and the gentle lines of her features. “You hit him, as I recall. He was minding his own business, entirely unaware that females driving pink cars might be bad for his health.”

      “So he’s fine.”

      Zach sighed. “Yes. Thank you for asking.”

      She nodded. “I was worried about him.”

      “So worried that you called. Say, did you know that some people actually leave a building by helicopter when they’re avoiding someone?”

      Jessie stood. “I’ve come at a bad time. If I could just have my car keys—”

      “Certainly.” Reaching into a cabinet in the living room, he pulled out the keys and handed them to her. “And now that you have what you want, let me show you to your car. I think you’ll find that it’s been kept in the very best possible condition.”

      “Zach—”

      He turned. “The car is this way. I’ll drive you to the barn. I’m sure your schedule doesn’t allow you much time to sit and chat.”

      She looked at him for a long moment. “No. It doesn’t,” she finally said. “And I’d like to pay a visit to the ladies before it gets any later.”

      He raised a brow, surprised. “Pansy and Helen?”

      “Well, yes,” Jessie said. “I don’t expect to be coming this way again, and I’d like to say hello.”

      Of course she wouldn’t come through Tulips again. His heart began a restless pounding as he considered his options, which appeared few and unfortunate. As in none. He couldn’t keep her here: he’d already tried that and she’d shown a remarkable ability to outwit him. He’d tried romance, but she hadn’t been exactly banging down his bedroom door to throw herself into his den of sexual pleasure again. A normal woman would, he told himself sourly, just to keep his pride from ebbing away. “Are you hungry?” he asked suddenly. The silence had stretched long, he was out of options and blurting anything, even the offer of a hamburger, was his brain’s desperate appeal to keep her with him another moment or two.

      “I am,” she said solemnly. “Are you?”

      If she was hungry, he was hungry. Whatever it took. “Ravenous,” he said. “I could eat a horse. And the barn.”

      Jessie looked at him. “I seem to be eating more lately.”

      Her eyes widened. He glanced down the length of her body, admiring her pretty red coat, her winter boots and pantsuit of some soft fabric which went well with her whiskey-colored hair. “You look great to me,” he said. “If you’re eating more, it’s certainly going in the right places.” Her breasts looked great, he thought. Her figure was curvaceous, perhaps a bit curvier than he remembered, but heck, at the time he hadn’t been paying as much attention to the form as the opportunity to…his gaze shot to hers. “Everybody seems to eat more during the holidays.”

      She nodded slowly, her eyes holding his.

      His heart began to beat hard in his chest, nearly stealing his breath, almost painfully choking it from him. “You wouldn’t be trying to tell me in your refined way that you’re…eating more because you’re eating for two, would you?” he asked, his whole body tensing as he watched her eyes.

      Her gaze dropped for just an instant, but in that instant he knew that he had followed in his brother Duke’s footsteps. “I’ll be damned,” he murmured, trying to sort out how he felt. Delighted, devastated, shocked, scared—

      “Actually, three,” she said quietly, her eyes moving back to catch his.

      He blinked. “Three what?”

      She shrugged. “I’m eating for three. Me, and the twins. Merry Christmas, Zach.”

      JESSIE WATCHED as Zach sat heavily, his gaze locked on hers. Helplessness washed over her.

      “So much for your method,” he said. “I could have said no, I could have worn a raincoat, but I fell for you like a starving man for food.”

      She walked out the front door, keys in hand.

      Catching her hand, he turned her toward him. “What’s your hurry? Looks like we’re going to be spending a lifetime together, City.”

      “It’s so annoying when you call me that,” she snapped, wishing she felt more relieved now that he knew but only feeling guilt. “My name is Jessie.”

      “And a wonderful name it is, gorgeous.” He kissed her on the lips, surprising her so much she didn’t pull away. “We’ll be naming the twins together.”

      She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Names had not been high on her list of priorities—figuring out how to tell Zach had been first. “You could take one, and I’ll take the other.”

      “Nah.” He gave her stomach a mischievous eyeing. “Two? How are they both going to fit in that little tiny tummy? Two of my big, strapping sons?” He put a hand on her still-flat stomach. “If they’re anything like Duke and me, they’re going to be fighting for space constantly.”

      “This topic just doesn’t feel as light to me as it seems to be for you,” she said. “I’m still trying to make sense of it. Just the stress of having to tell you—”

      The last two weeks of planning, worrying and stalling had finally worn her down. Tears burst out of nowhere, running down her face before she could compose herself.

      “Uh-oh,” Zach said. “That’s the main difference between pregnant women and pregnant cows, I guess. Emotions.”

      She wiped at her face quickly. “I could tell you were a sensitive male the first time I met you.”

      He wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “You’re cute when you spring a leak.”

      Jessie moved away from him. “Could you direct me to my car, please?”

      “I could, but you’ll probably tell me a few more things you’re keeping from me. You’re kind of like a firecracker that way. If I wait long enough, information just explodes—”

      “Zach,” she said, “are you in shock?”

      “Yes.”

      She sighed. “I thought so. I’ve been a bundle of nerves because I knew how mad you’d be.”

      “Well, I am mad,” he said, “but I’m not going to be upset in front of the children.”

      “The children?”

      “Yes.” He put a protective hand on her stomach. “They need to know from day one that they’re loved, anticipated and cherished. Our family is very close, in our own oddly special way.”

      She looked at him. “So the reason you’re acting so nonchalant is that you’re


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