Rebel Without A Claus

“Merry Christmas indeed,” he whispered against my lips.

I laughed breathily and dropped my head down onto the pillow. “Can I go back to sleep now?”

“No.” He kissed me and got up, leaving the covers tossed to the side.

I shivered and pulled them back over me, yawning.

He disappeared into my bathroom for a moment before walking straight back out, completely naked. “I didn’t use a condom.”

“Mhm,” I replied sleepily.

“Quinn. I didn’t use a condom.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Please tell me you’re on the pill or something.”

I forced one eye open and glared at him. “Nicholas, if you think I’d let you fuck me without any kind of protection after I had to watch my sister leak her baby juice all over the dining room floor last night, you are severely mistaken.”

“So you have something.”

“I have an IUD,” I mumbled, yawning. “Got it six months ago. It’s fine.”

“Good to know,” he replied, backing up into the bathroom.

I stuck my hand out of the covers and gave him a thumb up, then tucked back in. My phone buzzed, but I ignored it, until it did it again and again and again.

“Ohhhh,” I groaned, reaching onto the nightstand for it. I made contact with it and pulled it over, noting that it wasn’t even eight yet.

No wonder I was tired.

I pressed my thumb against the screen to unlock it and tapped the message notification. I should have just put it on silent because I had no idea what I was—

Oh, what was that?

It looked like a wrinkly potato.

Meet your nephew xo

My what?

I blinked and focused on the words.

Nephew.

Nephew.

The baby was here!

He must have fallen out of her.

“Ahhhhh!” I scrolled the photos to see that the photos of a wrinkly potato were, in fact, a baby. “Oh, my God!”

“What?” Nicholas burst out of the bathroom at my outburst. “What’s wrong?”

“The baby is here!”

He stared at me. “Fucking hell. She wasn’t even in labor last night.”

I sat up and shrugged, holding the covers around me. “She sent me photos, look.”

He walked over and I scrolled to show him them.

“Looks kind of like a potato that’s been left in the sun too long.”

“I don’t expect you’d look too pretty if you’d just been pushed out of someone’s vagina.”

“And boy am I glad I woke you up first,” he muttered, pulling some boxer briefs on.

I laughed and got up. I was awake now, and even though we’d collectively agreed to delay most of Christmas until Michael and Verity could be here, we’d promised to let Jazzy open her Santa gifts if the baby arrived before dinner. Now that he had, we could video call them and they could be a part of it, too.

That made me happy.

I was gutted they weren’t actually here right now, but a new baby was always something to celebrate, especially if it wasn’t a baby I had to birth.

I could give this one back.

I pulled on some pajamas, and Nicholas dressed in sweats. Mom, Dad, and Jazzy were already downstairs with Gramps when we joined them, and they looked at us with wide smiles.

“Did Verity text you?” Mom asked. “Isn’t he lovely?”

“She did,” I replied. “I was half asleep, so I thought she was sending me a photo of a potato at first.”

Dad chuckled.

“I wasn’t half asleep, and I thought it was a potato,” Nicholas muttered.

Gramps grinned. “It’s a baby. They’re a potato.”

“I’m a big sister!” Jazzy beamed at us. “Best big sister!”

I hugged her and looked at Mom. “Are we calling them so they can see Jazzy open her presents?”

She nodded. “They’re getting settled in their room right now, then I think Verity would like to sleep for an hour. She’ll let me know when she’s ready, but we promised Jazzy she could have a couple of presents not from Mom and Dad.”

“That seems like a good idea, huh?” I chucked Jazzy under the chin. “Why don’t we have some breakfast, then I bet you I can find you the best present ever under there from Auntie Quinn.”

Her face lit up. “You think?”

“Didn’t I buy you a drum kit last year?”

“I lub my drum kit.”

“Quinn.” Dad looked at me. “You didn’t get her anything ridiculous, did you?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” I said, grinning at him. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”

Gramps stood up with a bottle of rum. “Who wants eggnog?”

“It’s eight o’clock in the morning!” Mom admonished him. “Dad!”

I laughed and kissed Gramps’s leathery cheek. “I’ll have one with you, Gramps.”

“That’s the spirit, Quinn!”

***

I found Nicholas in the screened porch, nursing a cup of coffee. He looked up and smiled when I walked in, then patted the spot next to him on the sofa.

“How was your nap?”

“That’s the last time I drink Gramps’s eggnog at eight in the morning,” I muttered, leaning against him and resting my head on his shoulder. “I don’t even know if there was eggnog in there.”