Season's Greetings : Christmas Box Set

“Very low.”

“Please, come in out of the cold.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll just—” The baby chooses to sit on my bladder, and my choice is taken away. “Do you have a bathroom?”

His eyebrows fly up.

“The baby seems to think my bladder is a bounce house, so ...”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. It’s just down the hall, second door on the right.” He waves me in, directing me like an air traffic controller with sticks.

“Thank you.” Quickly stripping off my boots, I step out onto the carpet and beat a hasty retreat to the restroom. I can already tell I’m going to have my hands full with the little girl inside of my belly. “You had to choose now to woman handle Mom’s bladder? I was trying to make a smooth getaway, little girl.” I rub the bulge fondly as I step into the bathroom and close the door behind me.

After handling my business, I wash my hands and admire his cleanliness. From what I’ve seen, his house is more than neat. It’s orderly and spotless. He is a doctor, though. Still, his room could be a gross disaster. This is just the area he’d expect others to see. My experience with Preston has left me wary of others. That’s one of the things I hate most about our break up. I can heal my heart, but I can’t change my new perceptions.

I step into the hallway. The sound of metal on metal makes me jump. I cry out, and the baby jerks inside of me. Grabbing my stomach, I try to calm my racing heart.

“Faye.” James is by my side, gently gripping my arm.

“I’m sorry. W-We were both startled.” I place a hand over my heart.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nod.

“Come on, let’s get you onto the couch, and I’ll see what the hell that was.” He ushers me over to the navy-blue couch. I give a grateful moan as the cushion gives me a soft hug.

“Here.” He moves a footstool over and props my feet up.

“You don’t have to—”

“You’re growing a human. Whatever you want is yours when it comes to me.”

My eyes widen. Where did this guy come from? Oh, that’s right, Britain, according to his accent.

A small bark reaches my ears. I smile down at Monty, who rests his paws on the cushion beside my legs.

“You gave me a scare, you naughty little thing.” I scoop him up and onto my lap. “No more of that, okay? Your mama can’t take it.”

His subdued yip sounds repentant.

“You should be sorry.” I bop him on the nose and use a stern voice. He whimpers.

“Faye?”

“Yes.” I turn to find James standing in front of his window. “I have good news, and I have bad news.”

“Give me the good news.”

“The streets have been cleared.”

“That’s excellent. I was sliding on my way in. What’s the bad news?”

“They took out a few cars on the street, and your car was one of them.”

“What?” I sit up and scoot to the edge. Ignoring the exhaustion trying to settle in, I push up off the couch and come to stand beside him. I cover my mouth with my hand and gasp at the twisted, dented metal that was once my car.

“You have insurance, right?”